#i have a tiny vain hope in my heart

[gojoest]

I’m still deep in those meta theories. I barely got any sleep and now it’s Monday 😭

I am confident pookie will be back! I will continue to exhibit madwoman preacher behavior until then 🫡

you've been feeding me so well with them today they literally breathe life into me during these trying times BUT i am still very very sceptical T__T

[romanoffsbish]

Carved With Love

Natasha Romanoff x Wife!R

Yelena Belova x Fem!R (The true love story 🥹)

Yelena’s in town for the holiday season, and who would she be if not wreaking havoc? | WC: 1,986

Warnings: Mentions of Neglectful Past | Siblings

Yelena was a menace; you knew that from the insight your wife gave you before she introduced you to her.

“Y/N, she literally blew herself up and said it was fun,” your wife had reiterated her stance, that being: Yelena was a complete and total maniac. “Sounds like she’d fit right in with you and your band of superheroes,” was all you’d said back while adding pasta to your cart.

The two of you had been together for nearly a decade when they found each other again, and though the blonde was wary of a meeting she quickly agreed after hearing that the two of you were married with kids.

——

You couldn't really blame her for wanting to meet them more, especially your daughter, the eldest, who shared a name with her. They clicked instantly. Then there were your sons that you carried back to back, Andrei and Aleksander, who were bonded like twins. It was like they gained a triplet with their aunt. Then there’s the latest, Flora, who was just turning six months old and who was absolutely in love with the blonde.

The group were nothing but trouble, you adored that.

When you met her, your heart had doubled in size as you realized she was just trying to forget, to be a kid. Something you knew she never got to be, so just like with your own children, you let her get away with it all.

Natasha didn't much appreciate that, well, truthfully she adored just how much you already loved her sister. But, she was a bit jealous that you were so lenient with her, even if she knew you weren’t with her because she needed the structure and redirection you provided her.

As of right now, she thought you were also insane, "Detka, I don't think you thought this through..." Natasha mumbled against your temple from behind, where she stood with you securely in her arms, and you shook your head and softly chuckled. "It's fine baby."

Natasha currently feared for everyone's safety as her sister held one of those little orange carving knives.

"Oh my gosh, Y/N Romanoff, look!" Yelena shrieked, and your wife sighed when she felt your body relax. There was no hope left, you were at her sister's mercy. Yelena held up a stencil and you smiled. "It's cute."

"No, it is badass!" Yelena corrected, only to be met with a glare from her sister. "Watch your language."

"Natasha," you scolded instantaneously, "Lighten up."

"But she —," Natasha went to defend her decisions but quickly cut herself off when you turned with a glare.

Everyone got away with murder, except Natasha. (Well, in this symbolic context that is…)

Yelena smiled smugly at her sister, she even stuck her tongue out to mock her as you weren't looking. The redhead flipped her off, and your daughter gasped. "Mama! That's the bad finger!" Your eyes widened. "Natasha! What are you now? Some sort of hypocrite?"

"Predateli'," Natasha grumbled, making your daughter laugh alongside her aunt who was taping the ghost cat on a zombie dog's head stencil to her large pumpkin.

(Traitors)

"You all behave," you scolded the entire room before leaving to the kitchen to collect the cookies. Natasha tried to follow you, like a hurt puppy, but you made her stay behind to make sure nobody had a carving crisis. 

Which was in vain because when you came back in the room you found Yelena had upgraded to your sharp carving knife, and you nearly dropped your plate.

"Yelena honey, that's too dangerous," you practically shrieked, but not really to avoid her hand slipping. Not that you didn't have faith in her trained hands, but you knew accidents could happen regardless of skillsets. The blonde pouted up at you, and Natasha watched you once again melt into her little sister's charm.

"I can't use the little orange one," she pleaded for your understanding, "It is too tiny and ineffective."

"Okay," you folded instantly and your wife's eyes widened with flashes of shock and betrayal. The one time Natasha had done the same thing years back, before your kids, you'd given her a safety lesson.

“This isn’t fair,” she grumbled to herself, but she also let it go when she saw you sitting with her sister, eyes focused in on the way she carved the pumpkin and mouth at the ready to give her advice or a light scold.

Natasha let her festering resentments go, and shortly after joined you all at the table so that the youngest member of the house could play with the guts. It was a perfect moment of domesticated bliss, and the redhead couldn’t help but to feel at peace in current company.

Then the following morning came, and you learned a few things. Yelena had a new favorite holiday, and in turn a hobby, carving, which piggybacked right off of her other, bugging her older sister as if it was her job.

"Natasha," you tried to calm her, your hands on her tense shoulder as you kept her from lunging at the blonde. "You need to calm down my love, I can..."

"No!" Natasha cut you off, "She will do it, not you."

"She's our guest," you reminder her, but she merely rolled her eyes—something she never did towards you. "More like a pest, Y/N/N, make her leave before I do."

Your eyes narrowed fast, and your wife cowered at the sheer intensity. "Apologize to her, right now Natalia."

The redhead held back a scoff. Yelena had carved a face only a mother could love into her favorite fall leather jacket, yet she was the one who had to apologize here.

"I'm sorry, parshivets," she begrudgingly spat at the grinning blonde across the room. "I accept, cyka."

(Brat / Bitch)

You sighed, and regretfully turned to face the smug blonde. This was partially your fault too for having let the girl get away with murder up until this point.

"Yelena, now it's your turn." Yelena frowned, but then she nodded and relaxed her features. "Sorry sestra," her tone was genuine, "I will buy you another one."

"No, you don't have to," you let the girl off the hook. "Yes she does." Natasha rebuked your words in a flash, then she intelligently rephrased, "No you don't."

You smirked and rewarded her with a kiss that she tried to melt into, but once again Yelena interrupted with a rumbling stomach. "Can we make pancakes?"

Natasha's hands harshly gripped your hips, and you smiled at her in understanding, she missed you. "How about you go get the kids up while we make breakfast?"

The redhead reluctantly let you go with a nod, but before she got too far you pulled her in for another kiss. "I'll be all yours soon, just have some patience."

Yelena was leaving after the holiday's event, and the kids were going to Wanda's for a spooky sleepover. You'd planned accordingly, and your wife smirked at the reminder, chastely pecked your lips then ran up the stairs with a reinvigorated pep in her once glum step.

"Get the chocolate chips," you instructed your sous chef, and she did so with a smile. Yelena was learning to cook from you, you never outright said it, but you worried about her eating habits. All she could make was mac and cheese and that was artery clogging if not met with a balance of other things besides takeout.

Yelena appreciated your concern, it was clear to her that you were the perfect match for Natasha, because you were an even better platonic match for her. The way you let her just be who she was, who she was discovering herself to be with her newfound freedom, meant the absolute world to her. You were a light that she found comfort in, and would never let go of.

Once you showed Yelena how to make the batter you let her ladle it onto the griddle. "Don't flip it yet," you instructed, your back was turned but you were aware of her piqued curiosity and she was enamored by your spy like skills. "You're like a super mom or something."

"It's nice to see my skillset is appreciated," you teased the younger girl as you returned to her side and gently bumped her hip. "I appreciate all of you, sestra."

It took you a second to reel in your emotions, you'd only been hoping that she wouldn't hate you, but it turned out that she actually liked you, and you didn't want to cry and make her reevaluate that judgement.

Instead you settled on hugging her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake as you showed her the indicators for flipping before finally letting her flip the pancake.

Just as you settled a pancake on the plate you heard an obnoxious scraping on the glass. "What the—." There before you was a focused blonde, the tip of her tongue rested on her lower lip as she carved your perfectly round pancake into a ghost cat. You shook your head with a fond smile, "You really love knives, don't you?" Yelena mirrored your expression and nodded as she now carved an eye into a pumpkin. "They are so cool."

"Natasha loves her guns the same." Yelena flinched, "Guns are too rigid, and loud. Knives are fun, you can do flip tricks with them and they're just as lethal."

You noted her clear discomfort with firearms, and filed it away in your mind as a later topic of discussion, and fortunately the kids came barreling into the kitchen. Yelena dropped the knife and, just like every morning, she greeted the little boys with the tickle monster.

Then came your daughter’s greeting, “Yelena Belova!"

Yelena then followed her lead, “Yelena Romanoff!"

You shook your head at their antics, then you returned to your task at hand, and began to set the table. You placed the blondes masterpieces in their designated spots, a pumpkin for each boy, the cat for her parrot, and the torn to bits pieces went to the toothless baby.

You were gifted two perfectly sized hearts, topped with fruit and whipped cream. Natasha got zero change to the shape, but instead, she was gifted icing words.

“I’m not eating that,” Natasha growled, and you bit back a laugh as you saw the script. “What’s it say?”

Natasha shook her head at you, and glared in her sister’s direction as you attempted to read the Russian out loud, “Tvoya zhena lyubit menya bol'she.”

(Your wife loves me more)

“Damn right,” Yelena teased as she sat in front of her own pancake, “Don’t worry sestra, she loves you too.”

“You two, knock it off and eat your breakfast,” your mom voice came out, and everyone was suddenly sat. You nibbled on your food while making sure your baby didn’t choke on hers as she gobbled it down like a cat (Liho and Bob) being fed at the normal time everyday.

Once breakfast was finished you sent the kids to the living room with their aunt to watch cartoons while you and your wife cleaned up the mess left behind.

As you were packing up the fruit you felt two arms snake around your waist, and a kiss placed on your neck that you instantly melted into. You felt her smirk but ignored her smugness as you lazily cleaned up.

"You're spoiling her," Natasha groaned, you shrugged and turned around to face her with a genuine smile. "I'm just giving her the same chances I did you."

Natasha frowned, "I hope it's not exactly the same."

"That’s disgusting!" Yelena groaned from the couch and you giggled into your wife's shoulder. Avoiding the question in your kids eyes, and leaving Natasha to answer it. The redhead smirked, throwing her sister a wink before she completely pulled you out of the room.

Two could play at this game…

—

[harryslittlefreakk]

boyfriends

an extra for late night talking!

summary: a tiny fluffy blurb of harry’s first interview since meeting you, and taking your relationship further 🫶🏼

warnings: pure fluff!!!

a/n: just a little taste of late night talking harry & y/n. more is coming!! i didn’t want to post this just yet but i cannot get the other ones done 🥲

you can join my taglist here! and find much better writing here!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

harry: it’ll be on in 5 😘

You turned up the radio, ready to hear Harry’s beautiful voice. It was his first interview since you’d started dating, and honestly you were quite excited to see if you’d come up. You hoped you wouldn’t, hating how quick people were to invade his privacy, but in the event that they did ask about you, you were curious to see what he’d say. After the last round of photos hit the headlines people had started to mention your resemblance to ‘kiwi girl’, though no one had really put two and two together yet. After all, with a history of dating supermodels, no one would suspect Harry would fall for a fan. Just as you got lost in your thoughts, the radio host's voice came on, introducing Harry for the interview. Even though the radio, his voice awakened the butterflies in your stomach.

He spoke about the success of Love on Tour, the millions of fans who’d seen his shows, the thousands of lives and people he’d touched. Then, he was asked about his personal life, and you held your breath, waiting to hear what he’d say about you. “And your new girlfriend, am I right in saying she’s a fan?”

“I’d hope all my girlfriends have been fans of my music.” You could almost hear the coy smirk playing on Harry’s lips.

“But yes, she is a fan. Although I’m a far bigger fan of her than she is of me,” Harry told the presenter. You smiled at his words, feeling your heart flutter with warmth.

“You seem very smitten in the photos we’ve seen, can you tell us a bit about her?" The radio host pressed, and you gripped onto your mug, eager to hear what he said. The questions were starting to get a little too personal, and it was totally vain of you, but you were completely giddy. You knew how much Harry liked you, knew how fondly he spoke about you to family and friends, but hearing him tell the world was different.

“There’s not much t’say, really. She’s great, she has a heart of gold. I’m extremely lucky to have her in my life.”

You felt a warm blush creeping up your cheeks. Since his tour had ended and you’d been able to spend more time together, not as Harry Styles and his secret, but as Harry and y/n, your relationship had gone from strength to strength. He still gave you the jitters you’d feel around a high school crush, every touch shooting electricity through your veins.

He hadn’t corrected the host when she called you his girlfriend. Whether it was out of ease or not, he hadn’t corrected her. You unintentionally tuned out of the last few minutes of the interview, trapped in your thoughts. Harry Styles’ girlfriend. You couldn’t get it out of your head, the words just echoing around your mind.

It wasn’t until you heard a key jingle in the front door that you snapped out of your daydream. You were still frozen in place, hands still wrapped around your now cold coffee. “Hi darling,” Harry greeted you as he walked around the breakfast bar. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. You melted into his embrace, never feeling as at home as you did in your lover’s arms. You looked up at him, eyes filled with adoration and longing. “You were incredible, H.”

“Thank you, love,” Harry said, his voice soft. “Got asked about you,” he smirked. “I thought you were talking about your girlfriend, not me,” you giggled, eyes sparkling. “Mhm, you are my girlfriend,” Harry grinned, lifting you onto the counter.

“Were you ever going to tell me that?”

“Telling you now,” he said, planting a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled and leaned into him, chasing his mouth for more kisses. “You can’t just tell me, Harry. Got to ask me,” you laughed, outstretched finger poking at his nose. He looked over your face, grinning so wide his cheeks must have ached. “I want to marry you,” he told you softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Wrong question,” you told him, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Just be mine, be all mine,” Harry drawled, eyes trailing over your face. Even with your unbrushed hair, stained pyjamas and coffee breath, you’d never been more beautiful to him. The early morning sun spilling in through the window illuminated every part of you, casting an angelic glow over you as you stared up at him. “Be my girlfriend, and please don’t dismiss my proposal when I ask you again,” he continued, running his hands over your hips.

"I never said no," you whispered with a teasing smile, gazing into Harry’s eyes. His lips brushed against yours with a featherlight touch, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. It was a gentle and tender kiss, filled with all the love and longing he could muster. Every kiss felt like the first with Harry, everything seemed to stand still as his tongue danced against yours, each movement like a silent promise between the two of you. A promise of love, trust and a future.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen

[thecapricunt1616]

Celandine (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Princess” he said his voice cracking a bit and he led you to the bed, sitting and pulling you into his lap “I could never stop loving you. I would have to be warm and dead to stop loving you. Y’hear me? You, and little dude, are the only things in this world that matter t’me…and maybe the restaurant…but-“ he said, just to bring a tiny smile to your lips 

♡ Chapter Inspo: Celandine - Cures depression, brings victory and joy. Serves as a protective ward when worn. Carry to increase self-confidence when facing adversaries. Use in ritual work when you feel trapped in undue negativity. ♡ Summary: You are feeling a bit blue about your body PP, Carmy takes it upon himself to show you just how beautiful you are! :) <3 ♡ W/C: 1.2K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/27/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello! Happy day 2/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24) so get your requests in! Here's another celebration ask on the books! This ask is from lovely @jesscolon529 I hope you enjoy, my darling! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Speaking of pregnancy, Fem/AFAB!reader, No use of y/n, feelings of self hate / insecurity, sad reader, comforting carmy, established relationship, not edited, Pics are just vibes, reader isn't described!! Established relationship

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been 12 weeks since you’d delivered you and Carmy’s first baby, and your postpartum depression was in full effect. It really had not much to do with your baby, and everything to do with you. You felt gross after you delivered, you barely even wanted Carmy to look at you which he took like a stab in the heart. 

When you came home, it wasn’t really different. Even though showering was…very painful, and you could really use the help and would appreciate that help very much - you couldn’t accept it. The idea of your husband seeing your naked body that you considered to be mangled and gross brought tears to your eyes. The idea of him watching blood run down the drain as you carefully rinsed your mangled bits he used to devour nearly every night made you want to throw up. 

There was still a tiny part of you that believed he did this to you, so he shouldn’t be upset with the result - but somehow that just made you more angry because what if he was upset with how your body looked now, and just wasn’t saying anything? And how dare he not like your body after all you’ve done for him, for your family?! 

You were stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom after you showered, observing yourself. You could have sex how, if you wanted. But you had convinced yourself you’d never let Carmy see you naked again in fear he would shriek and cover his eyes and run away, a bit dramatic - but still you couldn’t face the idea of your husband not loving you anymore because he saw what left you have to give after 9 months of hell.

You touch your now jiggly, wrinkly belly, pulling the skin back with your hands and sighing a bit, remembering how you used to look. Tears welled in your eyes, “you’re so fucking vain” you whispered in the mirror. 

“Baby?” Carmy nudged the door open and you shout 

“JESUS CHRIST!!! IM CHANGING! Shut the door Carmen!” 

He jumps a bit at your sudden outburst, a frown coming to his features “why?” He asked and shut the door behind him. You quickly grabbed your shirt, sliding it over your head and pulling it out so it wouldn’t rest over your belly. 

“Cause- cause I deserve privacy?” You snap, angry that he wasn’t just running away like you’d expected him - or wanted him to. 

“Privacy? From…y’husband?” He comes over and rubs your arms gently “baby- are you gonna tell me wha’s up?” He asked. 

Your lip wobbled, more tears coming to your eyes. You shook your head quickly and looked at the floor, squeezing your eyes shut and hot, thick, shameful tears roll down your cheeks. “I’m ruined now” you said, your voice watery and defeated. 

“What?” He wiped your tears and hugged you, rubbing your back “baby what’s been goin on? You haven’t let me see you in months. I miss you, y’know that, right?” He kissed the top of your head as you sniffle in to his shirt

“I- I’m ugly now an-and wrinkly and covered in stretch marks and- and all…different down there. What if you stop loving me?” You burst into sobs. He could barely contain the lump growing in his own throat as he hushed you and rubbed soothing circles into your back. 

“Princess” he said his voice cracking a bit and he led you to the bed, sitting and pulling you into his lap “I could never stop loving you. I would have to be warm and dead to stop loving you. Y’hear me? You, and little dude, are the only things in this world that matter t’me…and maybe the restaurant…but-“ he said, just to bring a tiny smile to your lips 

“Mmm? See there’s that smile” he wipes your tears “what’s been bugging you baby, show me. I promise, I love every bit of you, I love you more every day- I still don’t know how that’s possible, but you make it work somehow” he teased and you blush, hiding your teary cheeks in the crook of his neck as he rubbed your back and side soothingly. 

“You say that but what if you see me and you can’t help it” you sniffled a bit. 

“Not possible honey” he countered. “Cmon- tell me. What’s been buggin you?” 

“My belly. And - and my thighs are so big now. My belly is all…ugh. Wrinkly and has all these red marks on it. And my bellybutton looks all weird” you whine 

“This belly?” He rubs his palm over it “the belly that kept our son all warm and happy n’safe till it was time f’him t’come home?” He asked and you huff 

“Yes but..it’s not…normal anymore” you said and he hums in agreement. 

“Y’right, it’s better, it’s new, it’s gonna take you some gettin’ used to- but I love it. Can I tell y’somethin and y’promise not t’be mad?” He asked and cuddled you into him more, kissing your cheek and hairline, wherever he could reach. 

“Mm” you hummed, sniffling softly 

“Your body now is the most beautiful it has ever been. Because it’s yours. It’s my wife’s body, my beautiful Mrs.Berzatto, it’s your belly, and your thighs, and your new different pussy you’re so afraid of” he said playfully in your ear to which you giggle a bit, cupping his cheek and looking at him with tear rimmed eyes. 

“Y’not just lying to make me feel better?” You asked and he shook his head 

“Nope- all the truth babygirl. Why would I lie t’my best girl mm? My only girl” he kissed your lips gently and rubbed your hip over. 

“And - and you really like it?”  You pouted 

He raised his brows in the ‘are you fucking with me’ Carmy way, “want me to show you?” He asked and you felt heat in your cheeks, looking down shyly. “Okay-“ he laid you back on the bed carefully, pushing up your shirt. “I think-“ he starts kissing from your ribs, over your sternum, down, down, over your belly, making it a point to kiss each little dimple and mark 

“I fed you and little boy sooo good while you were pregnant, so these? You can blame me. But I love them as selfish as it makes me” he kissed over your hips. “And these” he squeezed them with his hands “mmm fuck I looove these- I can’t wait to hold these while I’m fuckin’ you mm?” He traveled his hands up your waist, squeezing gently and continuing to ravish you in kisses. 

“And these” he gently squeezed your breasts together in your nursing bra “are fucking amazing. And a literal life source for our boy. An’he’s growin so well. He’s in the 95th percentile, he’s so healthy, and chunky. Y’doin amazing babe.” He cups your cheeks. 

“The most important thing though baby is you. You’re still my beautiful, kind, thoughtful wife. And I wouldn’t change anything about you, not a single fuckin’ thing, hear me?” He kisses you deeply. 

You felt more tears running down your cheeks, but it wasn’t fear or sadness this time that brought them, 

It was gratitude.

[kookies2000]

A Smile Behind the Crown Chapter 1

Wonderland Au

Au by @endomentendo

Sorry this took so long. It started off as a one shot and kinda turned into a story with over 15 to 20 chapters........... so I hope I make you proud!!!!

…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….

Tik Tok and tok tik

The sounds likes to haunt

Smiling when the time is down

Work with the needs of the royal crown

Hands on the clock move round and round

Wipe wipe wipe, clean windows, clear vision

Chop chop chop, all the way in the kitchen

Sweep sweep sweep, across the halls

Brush brush brush the walls

Cut cut cut the green grass

Tap tap tap the glass

Keep my head

Rest in bed

Repeat

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Day and night

Go to the left and right

Plant the roses in their beds

All of this so I don't lose my head

Do as I'm told so I don't end up dead

Work in the heat and breaking a sweat

Hello and goodbye to the queen and king

Clean through autumn and through the spring

The bounds around my ankles cause pain

They clink and clang as I walk with chains

Voice so loud with screams it's strained

Tears on my cheeks left me with stains

Throat so dry I can't even complain

My emotions are a big hurricane

Family and friends are in vain

I have no one to blame

Started with a flame

Pain hit like a train

Tik tok, tik tok!

LET ME

OUT!

…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….…….

Oh, it didn't use to be like this. No, it used to be magical. A world full of colour and laughter. I would jump from tree to tree, and run on water, all as long as I never let go of his hand. I was always safe and sound throughout my childhood. Running so fast I was lifted into the air. Running on air, stepping on clouds, and falling in the air at record speeds. I didn't care if the ground got closer. I embraced the feeling of the air running through my skin and dress. Arms out as if to hug something that wasn't there. Only to disappear before the ground can hurt me. It was all….. so………. pulchritudinous! And to imagine it used to be all so blurry. Hidden away in my brain with other memories I couldn't remember. Like they were just whisked away into a field of forgotten. Begging to be found.

As happy as I am to finally remember my family and friends, I wish it didn't come at this cost. But I would rather be locked up with my loved ones and rot in here with them, no regrets and in the arms of everyone I love.

Almost everyone. I wonder where he is. Did he escape? I hope he did, he doesn't deserve to be locked in this inky blackness and consumed by sadness. Even if he was a thorn in the side. What I wouldn't give to see his glowing smile again.

24 years ago

Tossing and turning in her bed, she was so excited for today. She couldn't help but smile throughout her sleep, just waiting for the sun to rise. The very second the golden rays rose, she kicked the blankets off her bed and didn't even bother putting on shoes. Her little bare feet created tiny stepping sounds that echoed on the empty halls. She couldn't wait any longer! She had to see if everything was set up. Her head didn't even reach the windows for her to look out. So with every step she would leap into the air to look out the windows. Her heart skipped when she saw a glimpse of silver and white decorations.

Filled with glee, she sprinted across the halls as fast as she could. So fast her feet barely touched the ground and she could feel herself get lifted into the air.

“Where are you going?” Literally lifted into the air. She felt a pair of warm arms wrap around her and lift her up. She smiled knowing who's beautiful voice this belonged to.

“The coronation is today!” She chimed as she flapped her arms and kicked her feet. The woman held her closer and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Yes, it is. But it doesn't start until sunset. There's still lots to do before the princess is crowned.” The lady walked the little girl back into her room.

“But mama!” The little girl groaned in disappointment. Her mom placed her back in bed and went to her closet. Her hands brushing against every piece of clothing as if examining each one.

“No buts Ann, the castle must be neat and tighty.” The mother pulled out a maids dress that was the size of her daughters. Ann groaned again and fell back into her bed, throwing the blanket over her head.

“Mama!” her voice was muffled by the blanket.

“Oh Ann, we don't want our future queen to be crowned in a mess, now do we?” her mother placed the cleaning dress onto the bed and gently tugged at the blanket. She heard her daughter sigh before popping back out of the blanket. Her face had a slight pout and her button eye was covered by her dark hair.

Her eye looked down at the dress before her, blue and white, her favourite colours.

“Ok mama.” she gave in and pulled her dress closer. Her mom smiled warmly at the sight of her little one. So small, so innocent and clean. She ran her plushed hand through her daughter's head full of yarn, pulling it away from her face. She sighed at the sight of her pink button eye, a trait she shared with her aunt.

Once dressed, she held her mother's hand and out of her room they went. She felt her mother's doll-like hand place itself on her back and straightened her out.

“Stand up straight dear, no slouching.” She said in her usual warm voice. Ann nodded and kept her posture straight as they walked the halls. The red carpet below them nudged them along as if it was also in a hurry.

“Yes, yes, we are going.” The mother giggled as the carpet below them kept bending and moving to make them move faster. Curtains to every window moved aside to let in the new sunlight. Blinding Ann for a moment before she was given a sponge to start cleaning the glass. The curtains lifted the young Ann off the floor and higher so she could clean the upper windows.

“Thank you.” Ann smiled politely.

Everyday was the same. Bed at seven, wake up at five eleven. Clean the windows and brush the curtains. Once done, dust the dust bunnies away from the armoured knights. She always felt bad doing this though. The dust bunnies always ran for their lives.

“Dust off the lint from your bow.” Her aunt patted her head as she vacuumed the halls. Sucking up any dust bunnies that tried to make a run for it. The red carpet had to be free of dirt, and so did Ann apparently. That never made sense to the young girl.

The garden was beautiful. Flowers dancing in their pots and singing a beautiful morning song. Bushes and trees ran to their place as gardeners prepared a new hole for them to rest in.

“Arms firm.” Her father helped her hold the shovel. They dug and dug for what seemed like forever. Leaving holes for the new white roses that were impatiently tapping their leaves.

“Snobs.” Ann whispered under her breath, letting her father receive a slap to the face.

“I didn't say anything!” Her father looked at the roses confused.

Then it was lunch time, at long last. She can sit for a while and relax.

“Pinky out.” Her mother whispered gently as they had their lunch break. Maybe not relax. Even in her free time she had to be prim and proper. Even walking across the garden with her aunt was a chore.

“What did we talk about slouching?” Her aunt fixed Ann’s back again and placed her arms behind her back, “No twiddling your fingers dear!”

Ann nodded yes and did as told.

��Open your mouth wide!” Her aunt commanded. Ann did as told and opened as wide as she could, “Now, with proper articulation, what will we say when her majesty speaks to you?”

“Yes your majesty!” She bowed the best a 6 year old can. Her stubby legs felt a little unsteady as she did. Her aunt took notice of her niece having trouble and held her steady.

“Practice, dear, practice.” Her aunt assured her. Ann nodded and kept her balance.

Practice, they told her. Practice everyday. She had to learn how to dance, how to read, how to garden, how to eat like a lady, and how to do everything with grace and elegance. It was repetitive, boring even. But it was peaceful. No risks, no danger, no worries. Just a steady life. And Ann was expected to follow this steady life until the end.

She felt a yawn come as she dusted the library. Quiet, with not a single sound interrupting it. The little girl sighed but a little smile remained. She dusted all the desks from the library, making sure not a single dust bunny remained. She sighed once more as she hopped on her toes to dust the shelves, she could barely reach the second row of books.

“Need help?” Her brother's voice spoke up. He was no taller than her but definitely took more risks. He dragged a chair behind him and slammed it next to her. He took the duster from her doll hands and dusted the second and third row of books.

“Thanks Randy.” Ann smiled her usual sweet smile. He gave a confident thumbs up and climbed the shelf some more to get the rows above.

As she watched her brother help, she looked around the library to see all the books organised and neat. The setting sun shined a radiant red onto them making them look like they glowed. Her eye landed on all the fairytale books she read. Books about magic, witches, dragons, curses, nothing wonderland hasn't seen. Princesses, queens, kings, and of course a prince. She adored these books to death. The excitement they created, the world's they shared, and the beautiful moments of love they told. She consumed every last word her 6 year old mind can process. How she wished she could experience these moments. Run to the mountains, see the world from above, climb every tree in sight and defeat enemies! And find a charming prince on the way that can rescue her from danger.

“It's almost time kids!” They heard their aunt come in. Ann's day dream came to an end and left her in reality. Unlike the books she read, she wasn't destined for a great adventure or even a prince. She was destined to clean and be a maid. Destined to wake up, get dressed, clean the halls, clean the restrooms, clean the windows, vacuumed the carpets, fix the garden, sleep and repeat. All while looking proper. It was near to impossible to do all this but it was more than possible in Wonderland.

But she can't complain, her family loved her.

They loved her so much they finished their chores early so Ann can get ready and wear her best dress to the coronation. A dress her father requested the Chatter family to create for her. She loved that family. They were always so colourful and made her laugh like chimes in the wind.

After she put on her dress, she looked at herself in the mirror to see it consumed her entire body. Forget me not flowers decorated her waist and hair. The dress was blue and white to match everyone else. It puffed out so much she had to raise her arms to not wrinkle the smooth silk. It was time.

She happily arrived at the castle's garden, listening to the trees hum a tune as the birds chirped along. The flowers sang along and swayed back and forth as they awaited the princess. She couldn't wait to see her. Their future queen! Ann kicked her feet and clapped her hands in excitement, she swore she would explode.

Seconds felt like hours to her until finally the horns sounded. She gasped and looked down the altar with everyone else. There she was, the princess soon to be queen. Dressed in a sparkling white and blue dress that outshines the stars themselves. Ann clapped excitedly as the princess walked down the garden with all eyes on her. Graceful, beautiful, magnificent, and elegant. Everything this kingdom needed. Once at the end of the aisle, the princess bowed to her family and the Chatter family. Everyone had proud smiles on as the king began his speech.

“Today is a special day for my daughter!” The king announced. As he spoke, Ann looked over at the Chatter family. An odd bunch, in fact they were considered the oddest of the odd. Their heads were nothing but a pair of dentures while other family members had a deck of cards for a head. But that was the beauty of the Chatter family, they were a colourful and wondrous sight to behold. And mist if all, her friend was there!

A little boy around her age was holding the golden crown. His hat too large for his head, or jaw in this case. The poor thing only had one eye to see with as the other was covered by the ribbon of his hat. His blue eye scanned the guests and he gasped in delight when he saw the doll.

“Hi!” Ann whispered loudly and waved. The young pair of teeth waved back, dropping the crown for a split second.

“Careful Chatter.” His mom caught the crown before it could hit the ground. The young boy could only chuckle nervously as he held still for the ceremony.

“ Please rise!” The king announced. Ann hopped out of her seat just like everyone else. All eyes locked on the scene before them, “Bring me the crown!”

The moment the king announced this, little boy Chatter scurried across the stage and held up the crown high and proudly. The ribbon of his hat covered both his eyes in the process. The king and queen chuckled at the adorable sight.

“Thank you my dear.” The queen smiled and took the crown from the little Chatter. Chatter gleefully clapped his hands and ran back to his family as the king hovered the crown over his daughters head.

“I hereby present my daughter this crown. Which will symbolise power, generosity, kindness, bravery and intelligence. Qualities she worked hard everyday to perfect so she can rule this land! And today, she will be known as the new queen of Wonderland!” The king announced. The very second the crown rested upon the new queen's head, the garden was filled with cheers and claps. People welcomed the new leader with open arms and congratulated her as she and her family walked down the aisle.

As everyone began to move to the ballroom for the celebratory dinner, Ann ran through the crowd to find her friend. Her only friend in this castle really. The castle kids usually had a busy schedule like her so they didn't spend much time together. Or they were higher ups like the kids of the ladies in waiting or the royal family. She never crossed paths with them much.

But the little Chatter lived in the servants quarters with her and her family. He was the son of a simple hat maker and a dress designer. While wacky and colourful, Chatter liked to stay put in the castle.

“We have all we need here!” He exclaimed as he and Ann walked in the garden with other children playing around. The Chatter hopped onto a leaf and tapped his foot. The leaf raised the little boy into the air as he waved his hands in the air like a showman.

“Why, and I do mean why, would anyone want to leave this magical castle?” He chimed. He looked down at a smiling Ann with a smile of his own.

“It was just a thought Chatter.” Ann twiddled with her fingers and looked around the garden. Her eye scan all the smiling faces of every child. Everyone was so happy and content with their lives inside the walls and sometimes she questioned why.

They lived in a world of wonder and magic. A world where normality didn't exist and anything can happen. Yet everyone seemed content in this box they were in. It was almost as if everyone was hiding from something, maybe from someone.

“You know what they say my dear Ann!” Chatter hopped off the leaf and glided his way next to her. His arms out like a proud little boy as he chimed like the cleanest of wind pipes, “A single drop of thought can cause the biggest splash of ideas!”

“Oh?” Ann tilted her head in curiosity, “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea!” Chatter chimed again in glee, “But my mom tells me that every night. If it's important enough to be said by her, it must be true!”

A soft giggle escaped the doll's mouth. She loved her friend to death but she still wished he would see things like her. Oh well, she can be the only dreamer in this castle and she'll still be happy.

“Look out!!!” She heard a kids voice call out. Ann turned around and ducked just in time when an apple flew past her head.

“Ow!” Chatter shouted when he felt the fruit slam against his eye. Ann gave a gasp of concern and ran to her friend.

“You ok?” She helped him sit up. His eyes rolled around like googly eyes, not being able to look at her in the eyes straight.

“Chipper as a sing-song bird!” Chatter chimed happily, giving her a dizzy smile. Ann giggled at the silly sight of her friend. Always so happy, so full of life and never had a dark day in his life. He always wore his best bright red suite and a hat too big for him……… where's his hat?

“Your hat!” Ann patted his empty head. Chatter could only respond with a “huh” and pat his head. He shook his head, finally fixing his spinning eyes, but they were clearly still trying to focus. Ann saw the hat flying away into the woods nearby and looked back at her friend. One pupil was bigger than the other, indicating he still couldn't see well.

“I'll get it for you!” Ann lifted the dress of her skirt and ran off to get the runaway hat. The hat flew into the dark woods and the little doll followed. Her little mind not even thinking twice about what she was running into.

In fact, her little mind didn't even realise she had some eyes following her every move.

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

Girl your writing style is AMAZING OH MY GOD-I’ve been starving for crumbs of Earthspark Bumblebee-could I request some fun time between the bot and a Gn! Human? Specifically Bumblebee teasing his partner about how much their fondness of his height and size?

Again love your work-wish you the best!

Awww thank you so much!! I had a very long day and whipped up this short and sweet little something to wrap it up, I really hope you like it!

It wasn't fair how little he had to try to rile you up.

Something about how powerful his frame felt when he moved in close to your squishy organic body reduced you to a puddle of need every time, and he needed only scoop you up in his servos for a rapid lift to his shoulders to have you swooning over his height.

That wasn't even to mention how you shuddered when his much larger form eclipsed you in shadow, how the rev of his powerful engine sent your heart fluttering, or how often your eyes drifted to his codpiece as you reminisced over just how much he was packing underneath...

Today he'd made his move early, inviting you out for a walk through the woods and eagerly lifting you to his shoulders after you'd agreed. It was only after the house was long behind you both that he'd asked if you wanted to visit the deeper and more private parts of the forest for a change. You'd known exactly what he was getting at, but with his frame so close to your needy body you'd been unable to resist. Your submission to his seduction had him purring with satisfaction all the way to your favorite hidden clearing.

A bed of soft grass and moss met your back as he laid you down beneath his kneeling frame, your tiny form limp and utterly helpless in his grip as he maneuvered you however he pleased. Blocking out the sun above, he bent down to give you a kiss, cupping half your body with one servo just to emphasize how tiny you were. You moaned into the kiss and brought your hands to his chest, sliding your fingertips over the smooth metal of his armor and relishing in the raw power you felt rumbling beneath. From the purr of his engine to the hum of his spark, the mech had strength like few earthlings could imagine, but that you'd experienced in ways that would make the majority of your species blush.

Taking his time now that he had you alone, Bumblebee allowed you to whine as he pulled away from your lips, his amused chuckles humming through you as he carefully nibbled down your jaw and into the crook of your neck, grazing his dentae over the tender skin in a loose love bite. Your helpless keen of arousal made his engine rev against you, the warm rush of his increasingly desperate vents stirring the grass around you in waves. The force of his desire was strong enough to be tangible in the very air, and knowing it was because of you only made your desperation all the more intense. Grabbing his chest, you tried in vain to push him further down your body.

"Not yet." he tut tutted, removing his dentae from your neck just to kiss it. Arching into the touch with a whine of open desperation, you tried to scootch upwards to bring your lower regions closer to his mouth, but a servo gently pinning you over your chest held you in place. He smiled with desire and affection as you squirmed against his grip.

"Bee, stop being a jerk!" you cried with a deeply unsatisfied pout. It wasn't fair how easily he riled you up, but it was even worse how often he made you wait. 

Dropping his mouth to your collarbone and leaving a series of kisses down your front, he let you enjoy the view of his smug grin in between every passionate peck, so pleased with himself his voice sounded like a purr. "You don't have to frag me."

"But I want to!" you huffed in annoyance, making him laugh in more genuine amusement.

"It's adorable how badly you want me." he teased with a kiss to your forehead, being purposefully chaste to drive you ever more wild. You'd have screamed if he wasn't so good at what he did.

An impatient keen was replaced by a moan when he finally nosed his way between your legs, allowing you to grind your crotch against his lips just in time for him to hum against you. Moaning openly in encouragement, you clung to his horns for support, a move that really got him revved up. A growl of desire between your legs had you fumbling for the zipper, fingers struggling to get a grip in your lusty haze. If you took too long it wasn't unlikely that he'd pull them off you in pieces, but at that moment you couldn't have cared less, so utterly desperate for release only he could provide you would have happily torn your own clothes off. 

No one who'd experienced the passion of a very powerful and very much in love mech could have blamed you.

[eikaroulily]

Pure Devotion

Alastor x Reader

(FLUFF with a sprinkle of angst)

` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ °

There's always always this nagging feeling in your gut when you have a tiny crush on someone, a feeling where you'd think that maybe one day you'll both have kids together regardless of the situation your both in. That maybe one day you'll both end up in a cozy room, in front of the fireplace holding hot coco while cuddling close together in a cold winter night.

"Y/n!!! Alastor was just looking for you! Come come" before y/n could even answer, charlie pushed y/n into the small library where alastor would hang out in, sipping his tea while he reads a book he likes or the newspaper to keep him entertained, sitting by the comfy warmth of the fireplace.

There would always be a feeling when we see the person we liked, this sort of feeling where you'd smile and feel excited to see them. But, there would always be a different feeling when you see someone you didn't know you've fallen for harder than you expected.

"Ahh! There you are dear, come and sit here besides my chair, I would like to discuss something with you." Alastor said, looking at y/n's eyes, still having his signiture smile. Y/n's eyes widened, and her heart suddenly pumped fast. She felt a slight ache in her heart, and she quickly looked away aand nods, she walks closer and sat in the chair next to his.

The feeling of looking at someone you unexpectedly love and adored more than you hoped for, the feeling in your heart as if cupid had shot his arrow on your chest, the world slowing down as you stared at the person you loved, your heart beating fast as if it was running into a race. The feeling you simply can not explain, because that person to you looked so beautiful.

"W-what would you like to talk about?" Y/n asked alastor with her shakey voice, alastor chuckles at y/n as he shakes his head a little and puts down the newspaper. "I have heard that you have a little admiration on me, dear." Y/n widens her eyes, her heart suddenly beating fast as alastor confronts her feelings for her.

The feeling where a rush would come in our heart, mind and vain, excitement whenever we would finally talk to the person we love, in our delusion, they were ours to keep, yet in reality, our heart breaks.

"I am sorry my dear, but I cannot return the affection you hold for me." Alastor said in a low tone, but friendly manner, he truly thought that the girl was a beautiful companion, a smart, lovely, well dressed, beautiful lady- wait, what? "Oh, I understand, but I hope to be friends still" y/n said with her half hearted smile, it was obvious she was holding back her tears. "Hmmhmm" alastor nods and resumes reading his newspaper. 'Hmmhmm? That's all I'll say?' He thought.

Rejection, even when our mind says it's enough, the hesrt continues to yearn and hope for the future, the future where two souls would reunite and love each other once again, and for eternity. The battle of the mind and heart was always a tricky one, mind always winning and the heart always losing.

But we'll say;

"I don't love him anymore! It's enough!" Y/n exclaimed, "love him?" Angel dust asked, to which, y/n widened her eyes, she stopped and think.

We'll say we don't, but in the end, we'll slowly realize, all those tears that befallen our cheeks, all those sad thoughts, all those rants to our friends we'll sloely realized those feelings we felt was different. The feeling of cupid shooting an arrow on our chest, the day we laid eyes on them, was something no one can ever feel, a rare feeling, but a beautiful scene.

"I love you." alastor widened his eyes as y/n said those sacred words to him. "Look, I know you rejected me, but I just can't shake this shitty feeling on my chest! It feels too much, and I didn't have the chance to say it the first time and just said that I'd stop, but then I realized that I loved you more than I realized.." y/n quickly explained.

And when we showed devotion to the person, even when rejection already hit us;

"I didn't quite get the meaning of "love", but ever since I've met you and gave me this weird feeling, it's quite.. nice." Alastor said, giving y/n a genuine smile. Y/n widened her eyes with happiness flowing through her heart. "I love you too, dear."

But even so, a soul can take the risk even when they face rejection before. The ending of the story can be beautiful or a beautiful tragedy. Regardless, at least we took the chance.

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XXII

Chapter 22

Wordcount 4,1k

Title Part XXII

Fandom Shummatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, undressing; non explicit sex

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi @telvess @alecfromsaturn (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I don't even know what to say after so long, except that I'm happy to finally come back and put this chapter out 😭🙏 I've been thinking of it for ages and questioning myself whether I'd be able to give these two a proper honeymoon or not, but this is an issue that haunts me every time I sit to write a honeymoon/intimate scene. The potion stuff was something I wanted to include back in the wedding chapter, but it's end up too long so I abandoned the idea. Now I had the chance to use it, and to try to bring some comedy vibes to soothe things a bit 😅

Anyways, hope you have fun! Missed you all 💜🥰

For you were too tired to stay awake after your brother-in-law left, you never saw the moment your husband came back to the private sections of your chambers, as much as when the rays of sunshine first entered the room. When you opened your eyes, the ceiling and the walls were already touched by the warm light, and the people in the tapestry over your head were as joyful as ever.

You tried to move the sheets from upon you and found out you could do it with no problems. You looked around and sensed the room was too quiet. You were also alone in the bed.

You frowned.

Where did he go?

You took a deep breath and, after some effort, you sat on the bed. You felt a strange, but complete relief with that gesture: your strength came back to you, there were no shivers spreading through your skin and no fear making your heart heavy. Was the transformation finished? You couldn’t believe it’d happen so fast, but maybe the hardest part of the process was over and you’d be able to carry on with your activities while it came to its end. Whatever the case, you were content to see you were yourself again.

You left the bed and headed to the bathroom. You closed the door, turned on the lights around the mirror to wash your face… and were static with what you saw there.

It was still you in the reflection, the same eyes, nose, lips and all, but at the same time it wasn’t. You saw a refreshed, cleaner version of you, with an inhuman glow in the lilac of your eyes and a flawless skin to cover each spot. Yes, you were sure it was still you, but more beautiful, more gracious, even without a layer of makeup and a disheveled hair to frame your expression.

So… this is how being a goddess feels like.

You smiled to yourself.

It’s not that bad.

You brushed your hair (which, understandably, took you more time than you were used) and finished your personal care session without taking your eyes off the mirror. You were a bit ashamed for being so vain, but after all the agonizing hours you had to endure to reach those looks, you couldn’t deny yourself such contentment.

You left the bathroom and searched for your robe. You found it on the same chair Hades left his own the night before. You dressed it and looked around, still finding his absence strange. It was when a soft, rhythmic sound reached your ears – his voice, brought by the breeze entering through the balcony, came to you in the form of a song, but you couldn’t recognize the words at first; you frowned and listened for a while, until you realized he was singing in Ancient Greek.

You smiled. You’ve already heard him sing before, but it was never that sweet. From what you’ve learned during his lessons, you were able to understand some verses, which, in the modern language, was something like this:

Under the red skies

Of the first day of Winter

I saw you

Your tiny feet running upon the ruins

Of the Temple of Love

Where after your touch

White flowers would grow

Would you mind

If I took you away with me?

Would you mind

If I hid you away?

As we built our secret place

Out of your flowers

And out of my song...

You followed his voice to the outside and found him sitting on the small table at the balcony, having a filled cup in front of him. He seemed relaxed, in peace with himself like you’ve never seen him before, especially when you remembered the events of the previous night, with his legs crossed and his eyes lost in the landscape.

You sighed at the scene.

Like a King who has his domains assured.

Change came when you took the first step toward him: the ecstatic glow in his eyes appeared and expanded as he turned to you, swallowing your whole form; he raised an unconscious hand and you accepted it, letting him take you to his lap.

You touched his cheek.

– Hi.

– Hi – Hades took your hand on his and led it to his lips – Young goddess.

A heat came up to your face when you heard that treatment. As much as it was flattering, you couldn’t shake the sensation that you were meeting him as if you were a different person now, and it still too soon to know if you enjoyed it. But you wouldn’t ruin the moment with sad deliberations, so you quickly redirected the conversation through sweeter paths.

– Were you singing about a young goddess as well?

– Yes – he curled a strand of your hair between his fingers – One that would touch the ruins of a dark world with her pretty feet, with the sweetness of a damsel and the courage of a warrior.

– And does she reach her fate with such sweetness and courage?

– Her fate, and much more – he approached and kissed your forehead.

You giggled and turned to the table, taking an empty cup and filling it with the same liquid as his cup, which consistence reminded you of milk, but with the color of caramel.

– What song was that? – you put the recipient of the caramel back on the table and grabbed your little cup – You never sang it before.

– It’s a love song in Ancient Greek. The author is unknown, but it was popular among travelers – Hades explained – It’s much longer than this, but this is my favorite part.

– We should learn the complete lyrics, then – you turned to him with tenderness – Then we will sing the whole song together.

– And we can do that during our travels.

– An excellent idea.

The rest of the breakfast went in silence, but after it you two went to the garden at the upper floor. You were were able to walk through it and that made you happy, still Hades didn’t let go of your arm until you decided to sit on a bench. There were some small trees around it, and you saw butterflies and birds sharing their branches peacefully; a couple of birds arrived, persecuting each other, then leaving as fast as they came, their wings making a rustling noise between the leaves, their little voices at their peak. You laughed at this, which reminded Hades of something.

– So how are your ears going? – he brushed your hair behind the left one – You’ve been complaining about the nature noises.

– They’re getting better. I mean, I don’t think I’d stand a lion’s roar right now, but the birds are completely bearable – you smiled.

– That’s good to hear.

You took some time to silently appreciate your surroundings as they displayed what would be a pleasing Spring morning in Midgard. You thought of this for a moment: the plants, the creatures and that whole environment were those of from Midgard, just everything you saw along your stay in the areas reserved to humans in those blessed lands – and all of them were designed by your husband. You felt your respect and admiration for him grow the same way it did when you took your first walk in the Gardens, when you ate pomegranates.

– You thought of all of this before we got married – you said suddenly; and, turning to him, – You thought of everything.

Hades replied with the same modest smile he gave you when you asked if he was there during the planting of the pomegranate tree.

– I wouldn’t say that. I’d say I’ve work with every necessary resource and with the best people I could find, so everything you’ve seen around would have the power of bringing smiles to the young humans’ faces – he raised his fingers to brush your hair – And, as a payment for all this work, yours will be forever on my sight.

Your smile widened at those words before you could notice. You were really content that, more than wishing to see your smile often, he was also creating reasons for you to show it: not so long after that conversation, he took you to take a walk through the depths of the garden, where exotic plants were hidden, and you spent the next hour talking about them and planning how to include your creations at the Greenhouse in the collection.

When you finally went back to the chambers’ interior, you decided you wanted to spend some time in bed, for your legs were a bit heavy. Meanwhile, Hades went to the kitchen to prepare tea. When he came back, you brought out a subject that has been on your mind for days: the travel to Hellheim.

– I’ve been worried about this for a while, but haven’t had the chance to speak until now – you said while accepting a cup of tea from his hands – Is it too long? Is it a difficult path, or an easy one? How does it look like?

He sat by your side with his own tea.

– It’s certainly a long way, especially for the ones who aren’t used to it – and, smiling at your widened eyes, – But I’m not saying this to discourage you, given that the travels between this realm and that one are far from tedious.

You turned on your side to hear more. Now you were completely interested.

– Really? And what kind of things we find through it?

Your husband started describing those strange lands as if narrating an epic story, going from dark skies, menacing rocks, abysses and terrifying natural phenomenons to powerful creatures, brave, minor deities occupied with their work and suspicious wanderers. You learned to love his ability of explaining concepts and depicting scenarios in a way that the images formed in your mind as vivid as if you were inside them; in that particular case, you also appreciated his power of calming your fears, assuring you that the travel was safe despite the things you were going to find.

After the tea, you told him you were sleepy, even though you’ve slept the entire night.

– I’m sorry for this, because I wanted to spend this day out with you – you told him, giving him back the cup – But I’m too tired, though I did nothing that justifies this tiredness.

– This isn’t but expected, little one – he replied before taking the cups to the kitchen – The transformation isn’t complete yet, and it takes an enormous amount of vital energy. You’ll still need some time to regain it, and an even longer period to manage it when your powers start manifesting.

– I see – you slowly laid down on your pillow, feeling both the sleep and the weight of your future responsibilities pulling you to it.

As if sensing your anxiety, Hades offered you some solace.

– But for now you don’t have to think too much about these things – he walked to the kitchen’s door – Th time to take care of them is yet to come.

You accepted those words and closed your eyes, letting the sleep take over your body, which didn’t take long that time.

***

You thought you were going to feel better the next day, and you weren’t entirely wrong in your expectations, but you in fact needed at least three or four days to feel able to walk, stand and do any other activity without a subsequent fatigue, neither the need of sleeping in the middle of the day. During that period, you were visited by Aesclepius twice, and he was content with your progress, something that made both you and Hades relieved: now, as he explained, your body’s tendency would be gathering energy instead of spending it, so that soon you would be as physically and mentally capable as any other god, and the travel to Hellheim wouldn’t be a problem.

On the other hand, Hades, having diligence as his second name, didn’t stay idle: while you recovered, he divided his time in taking care of you, solving small matters with his brother Zeus, checking on your family through Hermes, talking to Aesclepius about your condition and organizing your travel to the Underworld; he exchanged messages with Adamas at least once in a day, to make sure everything was alright in his domains. You, on your part, spent your time alternating between resting and being worried, despite his advice: at the same time you wanted to tell him to take some rest – after all, it was his honeymoon – you couldn’t do much to help him in this sense, neither in any other.

I’ve been increasing his burden since the beginning. He will deny it if I speak to him about it, but I know I’m not helping in anything; even my preoccupation might become an issue. I can’t wait for this to end.

That was why you received the first sign of a complete recovery with great contentment. You noticed it right after you left the bed that day and, taking a chance when your husband wasn’t in the chambers, you went to the arc where you kept your gifts from the ceremony. You’ve searched inside it with nervous hands and took a small bottle from it.

Your cheeks heated up at the sight of the object, its delicate shape involving a rosy potion which perfume was described as having “its own soul, so once it is used, it will always be recognizable by the ones who first sensed it”.

The gift of Aphrodite-sama. I’ve been so curious about its effects, but her explanations were so mysterious, and I was too ashamed to ask enough questions.

You still remembered how she took the chance to approach you while Hades wasn’t around. She passed by your side and stopped before you with such grace, yet so suddenly that you couldn’t help startling.

She giggled, enjoying your reaction.

– You were already a beauty, dear Y/n, but now – the goddess brushed your hair and cupped your face with tenderness – Now you’re the perfect being…

Aphrodite spent a moment in silence, just appreciating what she had in front of her. Then, as suddenly as her arrival, she moved her hands away and took a small object from inside her dress: a bottle that reminded you of the ones in which people sold expensive fragrances in Midgard, filled with some glistening fluid.

She put it in your hands and warned you to not let your husband see it before you had the opportunity to use it.

– Just one drop or two in the sheets, right before you lie down, must be enough – and, surrounding her mouth with her hands, as to whisper a secret – But it wouldn’t be bad if you used a few more.

You stared at the bottle, barely reaching the size of your palm, thinking of those words.

– Aphrodite-sama, I’m very thankful for your gift – you raised your eyes to her – But I’m a bit confused about it. Is it some sort of remedy, or blessing?

She observed you with a mixture of condescension and diversion.

– Most of the times, if used wisely, it will be a blessing, but in other times it will be a powerful remedy – she blinked her right eye.

It was when finally started to understand.

– Oh, this is a love potion, my Lady – you smiled, then frowned – But Hades and I… We’re already in love with each other…

The Goddess of Love laughed.

– I know, my dear. But the purpose of this potion is not making you fall in love… – and lowering her tone – But falling harder.

She approached you one last time and, with a kiss on your forehead, she left you with the potion and a lot of things to think about.

And now you were there, alone with her gift for the second time, and wondering if that was the moment to use it.

I’m torn between the fear of the effects and the curiosity about them.

After minutes of painful deliberation, you decided to open it and smell its perfume… which filled both your nostrils and your soul, drowning you in a wave of powerful sensations: your feelings, thoughts and memories about Hades were all stirred and turned into one, expanding until you had the urge to pour it out; your eyes were filled with tears, and your breath became difficult as your chest would go up and down in ache as you craved his presence. Even as a young goddess, you could tell that the substance held a terrific power.

Now I understand why she told me to use just a few drops.

You adjusted the sheets upon the bed and knelt over them, stretching for the potion to be poured in the center. You slowly turned the bottle to the side, in your best efforts to control your trembling hand, and observed as the first drop fell on the fabric, disappearing so fast that it was hard to tell it has ever been there. More drops followed it in other spots and over the pillows…

When the sudden crack of the room’s door opening made you scream and drop the bottle on the bed, turning the next drops into a whole puddle.

You sat on the sheets, hiding the bottle behind you as you had a confused Hades standing at the door, staring at you without understanding why his arrival got you so scared.

– Is there something wrong, little one? You look a bit nervous.

You were quick to deny it.

– No… No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine! – you shook your hands around yourself as to reaffirm what you were saying – It’s just the noise of these hinges! I can’t get used to it…

With your face on fire, you fell silent after that, praying that your husband would just accept the explanation and change the subject… but, unfortunately, your pairs weren’t willing to grant you this small wish: Hades closed the door behind him and approached the bed, suspicion filling each of his gestures. At the same time, the perfume made its presence stronger than never as the bottle’s whole content leaked to the sheets on your back, turning any attempt of keeping it a secret unnecessary.

– Y/n, what is it? – he looked around the bed – Are you spreading perfume on the sheets?

You shrugged.

– Ah… Sort of.

– What kind of perfume? – he raised an eyebrow – This one seems to possess some sort of spell. Is it one of your wedding gifts?

You shook your head in a positive gesture and slowly brought the bottle to your front, giving it to him with a shy hand.

Once his eyes laid on the object, Hades turned to you with a strange expression, one that you haven’t seen before, and about which you weren’t sure how to feel; your fingers gripped on the sheets: that was the first time you didn’t know what to expect from him.

But you didn’t need to wait too long to figure that out.

You observed as he held the bottle with an attentive gaze, a smile started forming on his lips: he already recognized the nature of the potion. However, it wasn’t shyness or shame that took over your feelings with the understanding: around him and around yourself, you sensed a quiet, yet steady change that grew as the smell spread through the room; you had the sensation that your sight turned a bit blurry, except for your husband’s figure, and that everything was somewhat covered with a rosy light that reminded you of the liquid’s shade. Maybe Hades was under the same impression, for he stood still, staring at you with a glimmer of hunger in his eyes that scared and interested you at the same time. The temperature seemed to elevate in the surroundings even though the balcony’s door was wide open, so you started taking off your robe and moving your hair away from you neck.

The first words said between you after this were his.

– So… Our friend Aphrodite has her own gift for us – he made this observation with a vague, low voice – So clever of her to handle it to you while I was away…

Without taking his eyes off you, he dropped the bottle on the carpet. You didn’t know if it was anger or diversion you sensed in his tone, so you rushed to justify yourself.

– I really wanted to tell you about it, but I couldn’t disobey her instructions – your voice sounded lower than you remembered it, but you kept going – It’s just that, now that I’m recovered… I wanted to do something special… – the air swirled and heated up around you; the left strap of your gown slipped to the side, but you didn’t mind adjusting it – I wanted to have a proper honeymoon…

And that was the instant that changed everything.

Once those words escaped your lips, the blurry wave of sensations poured out of you at last, reaching for your lover and tangling with his own feelings, pulling him ahead, straight to you: without wasting time, Hades got rid of his coat and shoes, throwing himself over the bed as if afraid that you would disappear if he lingered in his place. You were a bit scared by this new impulsivity, but you wouldn’t push him away: the heat that has been increasing since you first smelled the potion, pulsating all over your body, only calmed own when your husband wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his lap, your legs spreading and burying in the sheets on each side, his mouth reaching for yours as you helped him take off his blouse with your little hands.

You moved away for a moment to see the results of your work, and the vision left you marveled: yes, you’ve already seen him undressed once, when he stood with you during the worst point of your fever, but you barely gave his figure the attention it deserved; now, with your strength restored and your sight in perfect conditions, you wouldn’t make the same mistake: from his face, your hands slipped over his skin, across his neck and over his chest, your thumbs drawing circles around his nipples; you smiled when a sigh left his lips. You noticed the vine he had tattooed on his left arm, the same pattern of the one on his forehead.

He is perfect.

– You’re so beautiful… – you murmured to him, your fingers brushing over the tattoo – I’m so sorry for making you wait... I promise I’ll make up for it…

You felt his hands going to your hips and tightening around them, bringing you closer. Your gown slipped, exposing your thighs as your knees were buried on the soft mattress.

– I’ll make sure you will – his lips brushed and smiled over yours – But for you, the wait is always worthy…

You felt his hands caressing your thighs, slipping under your gown and pulling it up. Your heart skipped a bit: that was going to be the first time you’d expose yourself for your husband, so that everything had to be in place: you were now a goddess with a well-built, flawless body, but were you feeling that beautiful now? Were you good enough to appear before him with only your skin to cover you?

Heavens, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but who would say it’d be so scary?

Still, you didn’t stop him, and when the gown was finally taken off, every inch of yourself under his sight, you remembered the conversation you had weeks ago, in that balcony beside the room, and the confidence in it soothed your nervousness, as much as his hands exploring your figure: his right thumb caressed your lower lip, going down to your chin and your neck, where you noticed his hand was able to surround most of it; both his hands went through your shoulders, your collarbones and, finally, your breasts, where he his thumbs caressed you the same way you did to him. A loud moan escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you put your hand over it, your cheeks burning with shame: apparently, erasing one’s shyness wasn’t among the properties of Aphrodite’s potion; Hades laughed, enjoying your spontaneity, and moved your hand away from your lips, putting it around is neck.

– So shy, aren’t we? – and, letting it clear that he had the same conversation in mind as well, – Let’s take care of this together…

He then suffocated any word or moan that might’ve come out from your mouth with a deep kiss, pulling you tighter against himself as your hands tangled in his hair.

Outtake

Part XXIII

[winniethewife]

I know I'll be living in vain (Poe Dameron x reader)

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Angst to fluff, injury, Hospital scene,

Words:664

Poe was looking everywhere for her. The battle had been difficult, he had lost track of her in the fray, and he just kept hoping that she was fine, that everything was okay, that just this one time he wasn’t going to lose someone so important to him, and to loose her before he had a chance to tell her how much she meant to him. In his frantic search he hardly noticed Finn calling his name, it takes the other man grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him to get Poe’s attention

“She’s in the infirmary.” Finn says with a steady voice as he looks at Poe. Poe feels the color drain from his face.

“No. No. No,no,no.” His mind starts to race, what happened? Will she be okay? How did he let this happen? He has to get there now, Finn knows that and after a soft squeeze he lets him go. Poe starts to sprint through the base with determination. When he made it to the infirmary he was met with his worst nightmare.  She lay in a bed unconscious, her midriff wrapped in bloodied bandages, Poe felt weak in the knees. He moved to her side taking her hand in his. And there he stayed, all night and every day, waiting for her to wake up. After several days at her bedside he was afraid to lose hope.

“Come on stardust, Give me something.” He softly pleaded, kissing her hand as he looked at her with tear stained eyes, and as he watched her eyes fluttered open.

“What is happening to me?” she groans as she starts to feel the pain from her injuries. Poe is so excited that shes awake he crawls into the bed with her, except only about half of him fits with her on the tiny bed, She laughed slightly as she moved slightly to let him have a little more room. Poe cuddled up close to her.

“Thank the maker you’re awake. I was so worried.” Poe muttered into her shoulder as he nuzzled her. She runs her fingers through his hair as She looked on him with adoration.

“Its going to take more than the first order to take me out.” She laughed quietly, she was pleasantly surprised to have him so close and affectionate. She had a feeling he wanted to tell her something, but she wasn’t going to push. They lay close together for a few peaceful moments. Poe looked up at her and realized he couldn’t wait another moment.

“I don't wanna fit wherever, I just want to be here with you, I…I got one thing stuck in my mind. You. You are the only thing on my mind” He looked at her, his eyes wet with tears. “When I got back to base and couldn’t find you…I thought lost the love of my life… I can’t spend another day with you not knowing how I feel about you.”  His confession warmed her heart she, leans in and gently kisses his fore head.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that? How I just wanna keep calling your name? How many times I see you around in all these empty faces?  You mean…everything to me Poe.” As she said this Poe could hardly contain his excitement, forgetting for a moment where they are and what had lead to this moment he moves to have his body hovering over hers, He leans in and kisses her gently, but with every bit of passion he can give. He’s so soft, so real, she can’t help but kiss back, mustering the strength to reach up and hold his face. anything to be closer to him. after a long, beautiful kiss, they pull apart to catch their breath. Poe’s dark gaze taking in every inch of her face.

“I’m going to stay here by you side, all night and every day…Until you come back home… home to me.”

~

Series Masterlist

[romcomeon]

「 ꨄ︎ 」 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

⁀➴ a dirty, dirty chastity.

⋮ NOTE DETAILS — asmodeus. heavy on religious themes. an allegory for what happened during the celestial war. wc ≈ 1K .ᐟ

⋮ SINCERELY, ME — this is not like anything that i've shared before, and i won't deny that i was debating whether or not i'll post it here or let it forever rot in my drafts. there shall be a part two to this.

And there he stood.

Dashing. Renowned. Utterly Beautiful.

Once upon a time, the realms knew his face by heart. In a fairytale story where the harmonic melodies of his voice bewitch faithful ears, falling to their knees while their spirits are shaken by an overwhelming symphony. Trailing along the outer lip of a large delicate shell, tiny droplets of ambrosia sliver and trace a pathway of gold. Rising from salty waters was a figure as marvelous as a precious pearl.

Atop the bejeweled pedestal, crowned in the finest material melded into the shape of a fragile tiara. Bearing the weight of the finest celestial silk, ivory feathers puff themselves to the tune of poetics jousted by cupids. Covering only the gateways of temptation, the angel raised his chin high.

Hair sharing the colors of a warm sunset, carefully curled in reflecting a carefree nature of ravishing ideals. A face adorned by a charming smile. His poise wass rather sultry yet modest. In many accounts, he was a virtue.

For centuries ago, everyone had him memorized.

Asmodeus lived in bliss. Acknowledged by the Lucifer Morningstar as the beloved Jewel of Heavens, ever the celestial sweetheart, the spotlight had always followed where he walked. Peasants merely worship the ground he lands his feet on, seeking prayers and guidance from a pure, benevolent savior; a beautiful soul. He, the angel who can turn away from the light. Whose radiance emits brighter rays than the sun. He, the muse of arias, the subject for painters, the perfect altar for a desperate devotee. Asmodeus, the angels hark, their precious star.

The fairest of the land—and Asmodeus enjoyed the attention.

While not as much to prevent dragging by the chains of hubris, he sees outward validation as a testament to his being. How praise became synchronized with his actions, carrying himself in an air of gracious allure. Does one think when Asmodeus raised their own chins up with the raise of a finger, cooing a gentle dalliance that they are well-deserved of such? 

Nonsense. They aren’t.

It then became common for one to not speak of these desires. In fear that simple acknowledgement turns into banishment, worried to have a gem grow bored of their show-pretend antics. Slowly, praises were silenced by fear. Or worse, by one’s clouded sense of authority, urging to demand the other’s love when all attention goes to others.

Constant surveillance turned to be tiring. If one never appreciated his art then they lack an incentive to be chastised. Thoughts like these should never plague a virtue's mind, however in ever instance where there was the misuses of what he stood for—better times. There will be better times.

It's fine. He was a treasure among a sea of fool's gold. This shouldn't affect him. Afterall, it wasn't what he stood for.

The sadness of the world locked in amber pools swirling around golden irises. Shards of pink pierce through the dark realities, raining glass on an open wound. "Oh, but the glass was beautiful," one may argue.

"To be struck by Venus is worth any trace of blood." 

The rain of glass turned to be an army of spears. Pouring the reigns of heaven's wrath, unleashing judgment to those that went astray. In the scale's eyes there was no value for beauty, as even questioning one's actions spirals down the path of sin. Light clouds of hope darken with thunderous strikes. Temples of stone and marble are reduced to rubble, materials falling off the highlands and plunge towards the oceans. For their hands that promised to not kill in vain were left tainted over one’s incompetence. 

Sharpen weapons scratch mounds of unwounded porcelain, sinking deeper until somber weeps bleed from a golden husk. Prayers for guidance hung themselves above the angels, and seeking enlightenment for one's wrongdoing strides itself on higher accord. The bright morning pulls the sun to a redder sky. Hope sinking until darkness covers the lands, silently burying his brothers and sisters who may find themselves lost in their second life. 

Asmodeus nearly drops the weapon, his eyes wavering around the chaos. God’s grand kingdom became the front of a massacre. A slip of his hand and it would alert the other angels; ones that have abandoned all morale upon the light’s orders. The angel couldn’t bear the thought of death by his own hands. A hand that swore to never hurt a fly clings to the shaft of a great weapon. A hand that kept itself away from impurities hurriedly washes the stains with remnants sprouting from the holy fountains, muttering curses with each burning sting.

He was a virtue. A virtue of chastity, protected from the forbidden acts of lustful pleasures. But above all, a virtue of abstinence. In all his life until now, he embodied the spirit free of sin. He was what pious worshippers aspired to be: clean of any dirt marked by the devil. To be clean. To be pure.

"God gave us all," another soul remarked. "Demanding more is heresy."

That day of judgment, As he sinks while gasping for air, even when it surrounds him. Or was it gasping? It felt suffocating. The same ivory feathers wither away from its frames, as these twist and churn into smaller, duller set of bat-like wings. Like metamorphosis, bet the butterfly never escaped its cocoon.

Never like the humble journey of a whimsy butterfly, whose body enlarges to one more akin of a spider. Instead of its precious, glass-like wings instead were turned into large, crab-like claws. And instead of a presence that evokes serenity, replaced by a horrific recoil at the sight of a hideous, venomous stinger. God’s precious butterfly, a shining pearl emerged from the sea, a jewel outshining the brightest stars morphed into an unrecognizable creature. Purity became a symbol of vain. The butterfly forcefully transformed into a flock of scorching terror.

Asmodeus was an idol. Loved by all. Cherished. 

Pinkish strings guiding his sanity to pursue a trait stripped away from him were now chipped away. In one snip by life's cruel scissors. From everybody's beloved, he was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Fucking ass bullshit stupid hoe of nothing.

Too much? Of course it's too much. It's always too much here too much there to much shit to deal with and when someone's being bitchy about it they go leave you alone because every. body. has. to. do. everything.

To cling his now blood-ridden hands through silken hair, screaming as loud as he could watching himself sinking along with the sun.

From the safe yellows turned to a dangerous red. That said, more demonic edge welcoming them to the world where he was welcome with sin.

It became a wonder how the fall felt. Although, perhaps, it made sense for rising stars to then fall as meteors.

And it made sense for them to lose nearly all before hitting the earth.

masterlist | dividers by fairytopea

[lemonswoop]

Stray is one of my top 10 games of all time, so I decided to do a little replay to remind myself why I love it so much.

Full journal entry under the cut

Stray

Start date:8/18

End date: 8/27

Platform: Steam Deck

Hours played: 14

Rating: 5/5

On the day I finished Stray I sat back and said "I can feel this game is going to be very special to me." It's an odd game to be in my top 10 games of all time. I knew the simple concept of playing as a little cat (with me being a huge cat lover) would be an instant favorite, but I didn't expect that the message of the game would hit a particular soft spot in my heart.

What I thought would be a silly little cat sim set in a cyberpunk city turned out to be a twist on the classic dystopian future filled with hope, love and the beauty of the human spirit.

The game starts off with a cat falling into a walled slums of a domed society where humans have been dead for thousands of years. Our tiny cat protagonist meets the very last known human in existence, B12, a scientist whose consciousness gets uploaded into a tiny drone. Disease and plague ravaged the futuristic city, leaving nothing but memories and the robot companions programed to serve its lost inhabitants. But something special happened;

In the forsaken slums, gritty and filled with despair, hope thrived before the humans passed. When energy was capped, rebellion lit up the city with neon lights. When things seemed bleak, humans created art, tended to thriving plants, and hugged their loved ones tight. They went to bars to get sloppy drunk and laugh off the dark times with friends.

They Lived.

"Humans often said that making art is important in desperate situations. There are certainly desperate times."

Humans may have passed, but humanity lived on in the companion robots who gained sentience. The only models they had was what humanity had left behind for them. In the lowest levels of society is where the beautiful parts of humanity survived. The robot citizens didn't need to eat, wear clothes, love one another, but they did so because of the examples that were left for them. They fostered a community to protect one another all while dreaming of it all being better somehow.

The main goal of a small group was to open up the domed city, see the blue sky and go back to the long abandoned outside. It's what the humans would have wanted, and a place the robots have only ever heard about in stories.

One of my favorite aspects of the game is that while it reaches far beyond the scope of a little cat plot-wise, the cat represented a larger theme of hope for better still existing and it was time to start trying to reach it again. The cat inspired brave and bold actions in the robots, all resulting in finally reaching the top of the walled city. A sterile place where the rich and powerful operation controllers all lived; now gone. And in that city no culture, no art, no humanity survived. The robots were just robots, forever following the last directive they were given before humanity perished.; A pristine wasteland.

B12, the last human, sacrifices himself to take down the system and open the walled city to the bright blue sky. No longer did B12 feel the need to carry the weight of humanities past because they never left. They just belonged to a new society lovingly passed down. A future existed where our best qualities as a collective are what survived.

Sometimes I feel as if the beautiful message of this game gets overlooked, which is a shame when its a message I feel we all can use when the world at large feels bleak.

Nothing is ever wasted or in vain. The beauty of humanity is in what we leave behind. Even the small and whimsical things that only exist to bring us joy; they all matter.

Making music, art, reading, tending to a garden, hugging a loved one, holding onto hope... and yes, loving and finding companionship in a little cat.

"But I see a future in the companions, and in you."

[chestcongestion]

Losing Your Grippe- Ch.1: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Chapter one of the Ha/zbin Flu Longfic here we go! I'm having so much fun already with this one and I'm excited to see where we go from here. I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 4,432

Content Warnings: Contagion, Really Really sad Cha/rlie (not triggering, but I know it broke my heart to write sometimes, it's hard seeing her sad)

“Eh’ptschew!” 

Charlie pinched her nose using her non-dominant hand and rubbed at the sensitive skin with her fingers, shuddering under the harsh air conditioning of the elite boutique where she was being fitted for a dress by two succubi- a pair of twins named Isla and Irma. 

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, was I holding the tape measure too tight?” Isla asked, sheepishly backing away and examining Charlie’s skin. 

“No, no it’s okay!” Charlie replied with a chuckle, “My nose was just itchy… snff! Can I have a tissue?” 

“Of course, Your Highness,” Irma- who had a measuring tape around Charlie’s thigh- replied, snapping her fingers and whistling for a tiny female imp who was standing against the wall, “Clover! Go get the box of tissues from my office!” 

Clover nodded, scurrying into the back room and coming out with a freshly-opened box of lotion-soft facial tissues, hopping onto a step stool and presenting Charlie with the box, her head held down to avoid meeting the princess’s eyes. 

“Thank you,” Charlie said, plucking a tissue out of the box and wiping the underside of her nostrils before attempting to blow her nose. The attempt was in vain, and after a short burst of moisture Charlie’s sinuses yielded nothing. 

“E-Eih’KtSchhew! ‘KzZsHEW!” Charlie sneezed, her nose trickling slightly as she plucked three more tissues from the box in Clover’s hands, trying and failing once again to blow her nose. 

“Please try and hold still, Your Highness, I’m almost done with your measurements,” Isla pleaded, measuring Charlie’s hips with the tape measure before measuring her inseam. 

“sNFF! Sorry,” Charlie giggled, sheepishly, dabbing at her nostrils while trying to keep still, “Thank you for accepting my order on such short notice, I promise I’ll pay enough to make it more than worth your while.” 

“Oh of course, Your Highness, it means the world to us that Hell’s heir apparent chose our little boutique to make her first ever overlord summit dress!” Isla said cheerfully.

“I wanted to be sure I got something that looked nice, this is my first time getting invited to the overlord summit, usually my dad just sends the sovereign and lesser overlords one of his advisors in his place,” Charlie explained, “This is going to be such a great advertising opportunity for the hotel!” 

“Well, we’ll make sure that you look absolutely stunning on the big day,” 

“Thank you so much!” Charlie said, her voice straining slightly, words grating against a suddenly-scratchy throat in a way that made her cough. 

Stepping down from the measuring platform and getting dressed, Charlie scrolled through her phone while the boutique staff charged her bank card for the cost of the dress. 

“Hey… I just remembered, the seamstress who I made the appointment with, the taller succubus with the star-shaped tail… is she on vacation? I wanted to speak with her about where I could buy a pair of shoes to match my dress… E-Eiih’kShhuu! E-Ehh…Eihh’ksSs-CHEW!” Charlie asked, still holding the tissues underneath her slightly-runny nose before moving a piece of her hair out of her face. 

“Oh, Zurie? She’s been out for a couple of days, she has the flu,” Irma said, nervously fiddling with the buttons on her shirt.

Charlie wilted a bit, frowning, “Aww, that’s terrible, I hope she feels better.” 

“We hope so too, the flu really seems to be going around,” Isla replied solemnly, “Hope you have a lovely day, Your Highness, your dress should be ready by tomorrow morning!” 

“Thank you, I’ll be back to pick it up,” Charlie said, finger-combing her hair and leaving the boutique, muffling an irritated cough with her fist as she climbed into the backseat of her car. 

“Where to now, Your Highness?” the driver asked. 

“Uhm-” Charlie paused, still overcome by her cough, letting a few more loose before the scratchy sensation in her throat settled down, “- Sorry. I need to go to the shoe store across the street from the Richest Cup, please!” 

“Understood, we should be there in fifteen minutes,” the driver replied, turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from the curb. 

Later that afternoon, back at the hotel, Husk was taking inventory of the liquor behind the bar counter, writing down the bottles and fullness quantities on a clipboard as he went through the roster. While he was eyeballing the amount of liquor in a bottle of blue curacao, the front doors to the hotel swung open. 

Razzle rushed through the lobby holding an array of shopping bags, scurrying to carry them upstairs so they could be put away in Charlie and Vaggie’s bedroom. Trailing slowly behind him, visibly overwhelmed, was Charlie, who quickly flopped into a stool at the bar, planting her face against the counter. 

“Rough day?” Husk asked, writing down the amount in the bottle of blue curacao on his inventory sheet. 

“Mmphhh,” Charlie muttered, her shoulders vibrating slightly as she shivered, turning her head so that her voice wasn’t muffled by the countertop, “I have so much to do to get ready for this event.” 

“You’re workin’ yourself up over the overlord summit?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow, “Pfft, it ain’t even worth the trouble. Then again, ‘suppose I’ve never had to go to a formal event as a lady, let alone one who gives a shit about lookin’ nice.” 

“I’m so nervous, I’m getting my dress made and I looked everywhere for a pair of shoes to match my dress, and I found three pairs but I don’t know which one I’m going to go with because they’re all different heights and they have different decorations and they’re all going to be so uncomfortable on my feet and-” Charlie’s rambling was interrupted by an aggressive hacking cough that she had to quickly cover with her forearm. 

Husk winced, scooping up some ice into a pint glass and pouring Charlie a glass of water, sliding it over to her on a coaster. 

“Thanks,” Charlie choked out, guzzling down half of the glass before turning away to cough again, “My throat’s been so scratchy, it’s killing me.”

Husk frowned, going back to examining the bottles of liquor, “Maybe your body’s shuttin’ down because of how much you’re stressin’ over the summit,” he remarked casually, writing out the amount of cointreau behind the bar counter onto his sheet. 

Charlie polished off the rest of her glass of water, shuddering a bit as she tried to compose herself, “It’s just so hard… I want this to be perfect, I have to examine all of my jewelry and figure out which pieces would go with my dress and whether or not they’d also match my shoes, and I still want them to complement what Vaggie’s gonna wear and I still have to figure out which hairstyle I’m gonna choose and whether that’s gonna go good with my outfit and my shoes and.. And…-” Charlie’s stressed rambling began to falter as tears welled in her eyes. 

Husk stopped working on taking inventory and focused instead on Charlie as she tugged at her blonde locks, her face suddenly coated in a thin sheen of sweat and bags forming under her eyes. 

“I still have to- khff!- have to decide whether or not I’m- Khff! Khff khff!- carrying a purse or not and-” Charlie paused, taking a wheezy inhale and turning away from Husk to release another hacking cough, and another, and another, barely having time to stop and take shallow inhales as her cheeks flushed a pinkish-red and sweat trickled down her face, dripping from her chin and nose to stain the neckline of her suit jacket. 

Husk walked around to the other side of the bar, resting a hand on Charlie’s back and feeling her lungs spasming in her chest with each unproductive and throat-scraping cough, “That cough sounds rough… you alright?” Husk asked, gently patting Charlie on the back in the hopes that it would help. 

Charlie’s coughing fit stopped for a moment and she gasped, finally able to fully catch her breath, wiping at her watery eyes and looking at Husk with a pitiful, exhausted expression on her face, “H-husk?” she whimpered, shivering and leaning into his touch, “I don’t feel well.” 

“I figured,” Husk replied, feeling Charlie’s cheeks with the back of his hand before pressing his heart-shaped palm against her forehead, “Damn… you’re burnin’ up. Here, I’ll help you get to bed.” 

Husk gently grabbed hold of Charlie’s wrists and pulled her onto her feet, not noticing Charlie’s wobbly legs and weak, staggering stance until she collapsed to her knees once he let go of her. “Charlie!” he exclaimed, panicked as he leaned down to the floor and gathered Charlie in his arms, “I’m sorry, I thought you could stand, did you hurt anything?” 

Charlie shook her head weakly, coughing into her fist before wrapping her arms around Husk’s neck, “My hips hurt… and my thighs hurt, but they were hurting before I fell down,” she mumbled, “I don’t wanna go to bed, I just need to lie down… I just… just… E-Eihh’PtSsHEW!” 

Husk cradled Charlie in his arms, rubbing her back as she coughed, before setting her down on the softest sofa in the parlor and watching as she struggled to settle into a reclined position, wincing with every movement as though she was in pain.

“I’m cold,” Charlie said, her voice wavering as she wiped away tears, biting her lip when her febrile shivering only aggravated the aches and pains in her body. 

Husk hurried into the hallway, grabbing a plush blanket from the linen closet and returning to the living room to spread the blanket out over Charlie’s shivering form, “That any better?” he asked, his stomach twisting in knots at Charlie’s discomfort. 

Charlie took in a sharp breath, letting out another aggressive cough, “A little, I’m still f-freezing,” she mumbled, her teeth chattering as she attempted to relax under the blanket, her eyelids drooping, “My head hurts.” 

Husk panicked, fiddling with one of his ears as he wandered back over to the bar and soaked one of his clean dish towels in cool water, wringing it out and returning to the sofa to place it over Charlie’s eyes. For a moment, out of concern and a deep desire to feel somewhat helpful, Husk gently brushed the back of his hand against Charlie’s face, a bit of relief blooming inside of him when she sighed out of comfort.  

“Better?” 

“M-mhmm… E-eihh’kSShuu! Eih’KsSshew!” 

“Alright, you try and get some rest, I’ll make sure you’re alright,” Husk said, gently patting Charlie’s back as she began to cough again, her eyes watering and her cheeks growing flushed again as she struggled to catch her breath. 

“Vaggie…” Charlie whimpered, blinking away her tears and clutching her abdomen, “KHFFF- Khff!” 

Husk’s heart swelled in his chest, and he crawled onto the sofa, gently moving Charlie until her rocket-hot and shivering body was resting against him as she sat in his lap, coughing violently over his shoulder. 

“Vaggie’s still out shoppin’, she’ll be home soon, I promise,” Husk whispered, patting Charlie’s back, “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.” 

“My… chest hurts,” Charlie said, her voice growing hoarse from her constant coughing as her nose began to trickle, the skin on her nose bridge flushing pink, “I can’t… can’t be sick, have to go to the- KHHHFF!- overlord summit… already bought my dress.” 

Husk sighed, gently cradling Charlie’s back as she phased in and out of consciousness, occasionally shooting awake to cough violently for a few minutes before dozing off again, still clinging to Husk like a feverish koala. 

Three hours later, Vaggie returned from her shopping trip with Alastor, and Angel returned from his shift at the porn studio at the same time. The three were flanked by Niffty, who had accompanied Vaggie and Alastor on their excursion but was hopped up on sugar from chugging slushies out of boredom while waiting for Alastor to pick out a new bowtie. 

“Fuckin’ finally, you’re back,” Husk groaned, still sitting on the sofa and bouncing a barely-conscious Charlie on his knee as she coughed weakly over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, took longer than I thought, I wanted to pick a dress that would match Charlie’s but I ended up just getting a couple in each color, I tried to text her to ask what dress she’d picked but she never… texted me back,” Vaggie said, her voice trailing off as she noticed her shivering girlfriend still clinging desperately to Husk, her suit jacket draped over the back of the sofa and her dress shirt soaked so heavily with sweat that her bra was visible through the sheer wet fabric, “What happened?” 

“She came back from shoppin’ and faded fast, she hasn’t stopped coughing since I got her on the sofa,” Husk explained, patting Charlie’s back as another violent series of hacking coughs ripped through her chest and scraped her raw throat. Briefly, Husk pressed the back of his hand against Charlie’s neck, frowning at the searing heat of her skin. 

“How long have you been sitting here with her?” Vaggie asked, raising an eyebrow as Alastor watched in anxious silence from several paces away. 

“Few hours,” Husk replied, “She wouldn’t let go of me and she can’t stand up without fallin’ down.” 

Vaggie chewed on her bottom lip, her stomach twisting a bit with worry as she reached out to feel Charlie’s forehead, her cool fingers sending such a wave of relief across Charlie’s hot and sensitive skin that tears of joy trickled from her eyes, “Holy shit…” she said in a hushed voice. 

“Yeah,” Husk said before bracing himself to stand while still keeping a firm grip on Charlie, rising to his feet while Charlie still weakly clung to him in spite of their noticeable height difference, “This ain’t just a cold… somethin’s wrong, I think we should take her to the hospital.” 

Charlie whimpered, pushing away from Husk, forcing him to hold tighter onto her to keep her from crashing and slamming her head against the hard floor, “Noo… no hospital… ‘m not sick- K H FFf- khff-khfff!- mkay, I’m a little sick… but I-I’m okay… KHHFFF-KHFF-KHFF! KOFF-Khhff-khff!- I’m fine,” she pleaded, sweat still running down her flushed cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath, her voice hoarse and her nose slightly runny. 

“Sweetheart, you look awful, I just want to be able to take care of you and make you feel comfortable, and we might not be able to do that without a doctor’s help,” Vaggie said, brushing her manicured fingers against Charlie’s face and smiling when Charlie managed a small, weak smile in return, “Don’t you want to feel better?” 

“Mmhm,” Charlie nodded. 

“Okay, it won’t take too long, we’ll be back before you know it, mkay?” Vaggie explained, smiling when Charlie gave her another weak nod, “Alright, c’mon Husk, let’s go to the urgent care center.” 

“Right behind you,” Husk said, following Vaggie back out to the car with Charlie still in his arms, leaving Angel, Alastor, and Niffty to their own devices. 

“Awww, poor Charlie,” Angel crooned, combing out his fluffy pompadour with his fingers, “I oughtta make myself useful while they’re gone, c’mon Niff, let’s go make sure she’s got somethin’ to eat when she gets back.” 

“Okay!” Niffty cheered, speeding past Angel to the hotel’s kitchen, still riding on a bit of a sugar high. 

“You comin’ Alastor?” Angel asked, resting a hand on his hip as he scrolled through his phone with another hand for a notes app folder filled with recipes he saved. 

Alastor shook his head, sticking out his tongue and shuddering as he pictured the parlor and lobby to be crawling with microbes, practically feeling them on his skin, on his clothes, in his hair, “No, I’m a bit preoccupied… I’m going to go have a bath and then have a few refreshing shots of disinfectant,” he grumbled, snapping his fingers and vanishing into his own shadow. 

Angel shrugged, “What a wimp,” he said with a teasing smile until he heard pans clattering to the ground in the kitchen, “Niffty, don’t break anythin’, I’m comin’!” 

An hour later, Angel and Niffty were looking at silly videos on Angel’s phone after making a large pot of tomato soup that was simmering quietly on the stove, when they heard the sound of Charlie’s coughing as she, Vaggie, and Husk entered the lobby. 

“Welcome back, that was quick,” Angel said, leaning against a wall as Niffty ran in a tight circuit around his feet, still a bit hyperactive. 

“Urgent care was packed, but we got seen pretty quickly once they realized who we brought with us,” Vaggie explained, holding Charlie upright even as her legs shook independent from her febrile shivering. 

“Nice, so what’d they say was wrong wit’ Goldilocks?” Angel asked, reaching out to help Charlie stand as she struggled to stay on her feet. 

“They did a swab test and found out she has the flu,” Vaggie said, “According to the doctor we spoke to it’s been going around like crazy.” 

“e-EIih’KTtSsSHEW!” Charlie sneezed, rubbing her nose with the heel of her palm, “I’m tired…” 

“I know, I know, let’s get you a cool shower so you can get nice and comfortable in bed, Hmm?” Vaggie offered. 

“Okay,” Charlie sighed, leaning against Vaggie and grimacing in pain before turning to cough into her fist, “I’m sorry… it’s so hot… everything hurts.” 

“I know, Babe, I’m so sorry you’re sick,” Vaggie said, gently patting Charlie’s back. 

“I’ll carry ‘er upstairs for ya,” Angel said, scooping Charlie into his arms and glancing at her with concern when he felt the overwhelming amount of heat radiating off of her feverish body. Pushing that sensation aside, Angel held onto Charlie and slowly climbed up the steps toward Charlie and Vaggie’s shared bedroom, Charlie occasionally taking a shaky inhale and coughing into Angel’s shoulder while clinging to him with her arms and legs. 

“You took good care of her while everybody was gone,” Niffty said almost teasingly, standing on Husk’s shoulder, “That was nice.” 

“What? I can’t be nice?” Husk scoffed, tossing Niffty to the floor as though she were a clingy kitten, watching as she climbed him again effortlessly and accepted defeat, letting her use him as a perch. 

“You can… it’s just rare that you’re this nice to anyone… even to Angel,” Niffty observed, “But that’s good, you’re a good kitty.” 

Husk rolled his eyes, “I’ll wear it like a badge of honor, thank you Niffty,” he said, poking her before setting her back down on the floor, “I gotta finish inventory on the bar and I’m sure there’s cobwebs somewhere inside the roof or the storage attic that you can clean up until the sugar wears off.” 

“O o oo! You’re right, that sounds like fun! Bye bye Husk!” Niffty giggled, sprinting up the stairs and vanishing on her way to crawl into the hotel’s makeshift-attic storage space, leaving Husk at the bar with his bottles. 

Relishing in the quiet, Husk scanned his inventory sheet and decided to pick up where he left off, “Okay… I finished cointreau, onto the next one,” he muttered to himself. 

Upstairs, in Charlie and Vaggie’s bedroom, Charlie had gotten out of her cool bath and was wearing a pair of lightweight cotton pajamas. Exhausted, Charlie climbed into bed and curled up under the covers, still deeply frustrated that she’d managed to fall ill so close to such an important event.  

“You comfortable?” Vaggie asked, pulling a thermometer out of the drawer in her nightstand and turning it on. 

“I guess,” Charlie sighed, opening her mouth and letting Vaggie slide the thermometer under her tongue, suppressing the urge to cough until the thermometer beeped, “What’s it say? K HFF- koff-koff!” 

Vaggie squinted briefly at the viewing window on the thermometer, “104,” she said, cupping Charlie’s face with one of her hands. 

Charlie sniffled, a pitiful frown on her face as tears ran from her eyes and trickled down her fever-rouged cheeks. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I- I’m so mad at myself for getting sick- snFF!- I feel hot and everything hurts and I’m so tired and I’m going to miss the summit and it was so important that I got to go this time and the overlords are gonna be mad at me and they aren’t going to invite me again and I paid so much for that stupid dress and now I’m not gonna get to wear it and-” Charlie rambled fretfully as tears continued to fall, hiccuping sobs interrupting her as she struggled to keep it together, “This is the worst and there’s nothing I can do about it and nothing can make it better!” 

Vaggie leaned forward, embracing Charlie in a tight hug as Charlie sobbed violently, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sure the overlords will understand and you’ll be able to go to the next summit… and we can go on a date when you’re better so you can wear your dress!” she said, rubbing Charlie’s hand in an attempt to comfort her. 

“KHFF-Koff! I don’t wanna wear my dress- SnFF!- I-I wanted to wear a pantsuit but the ladies at the boutique said a dress would look better,” Charlie sobbed. 

“Okay… well, I’ll call the boutique and tell them to make a pantsuit instead!” Vaggie said cheerfully, her heart aching desperately at seeing Charlie in such turmoil, “Does that help?” 

Charlie sniffled, wiping her eyes with a tissue, “I-snFF! Snff!- I guess… I’m sorry Vaggie, I really don’t feel good,” she said, her voice still hoarse and weepy as she tossed the tear-soaked tissue into the trash. 

“I know, Honey, I know… you’re really sick, I completely understand,” Vaggie said with a comforting smile, “What’s one thing I can do to make you feel better before you take a nap?” 

Charlie coughed violently into her forearm, struggling to catch her breath afterward as she rubbed her chest with a splayed hand, “Uhm… E-eihh-KtSshheww! Could I have a glass of apple juice? I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast but the thought of food makes me queasy.” 

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” Vaggie said, giving Charlie a thumbs up and hurrying out of their bedroom and down the stairs, pouring a glass of apple juice into a large plastic cup filled halfway with ice cubes before turning to head back upstairs. On her way toward the staircase, Vaggie was interrupted by Husk, who had gotten to the letter T on his inventory list. 

“She gonna be alright?” Husk asked, his tone slightly curious as he tapped his lengthy claws against bottles of tequila, counting them in his head. 

“I think so… I’m not too worried about anything happening to her, if an explosion can’t kill her I don’t think the flu’s got a chance… but it’s still heartbreaking to see her so miserable,” Vaggie said solemnly, “She’s really upset that she’s going to miss the summit and I’m trying to calm her down.” 

“She’ll be fine, there’ll be others… she isn’t missin’ much,” Husk scoffed, turning to shoot Vaggie an amused smile, “Best of luck, lemme know if there’s anything I can do to help while you’re takin’ care of her.” 

“Will do,” Vaggie replied, rolling her eyes playfully before saluting Husk and walking back up the stairs with the large glass of apple juice in hand.

Alone again with his bottles, Husk began writing down the amount of tequila bottles behind the bar on his inventory sheet when he felt a looming presence around him and scoffed, completely unfazed and unamused with the perpetrator’s antics. 

“Alastor, if you’re gonna skulk in the shadows like a dick, I’m not gonna humor you, either get up or fuck off,” Husk grumbled, looking over to the left of the bar as Alastor appeared out of the shadows, dusting himself off. 

“Euch, no amount of bathing managed to get me clean enough,” Alastor gagged, sticking out his tongue, “Charlie is a lovely young lady, very kind, but also the thought of her germs being on me makes my skin crawl.” 

“Oh please, you weren’t even near her, if anyone should be worried about gettin’ sick it’s me, and you don’t see me freakin’ out now do you?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms, smirking when Alastor gave him nothing but a flustered mess of indignant grumbling in response, “Mmhm, exactly.” 

“I’m half inclined to avoid you for the foreseeable future if that’s the case,” Alastor said, taking a couple of steps away from Husk and wrinkling his nose in disgust, “Catching this is absolutely not in my plans for the upcoming week… or ever.” 

“You don’t gotta worry about me, I’m fine,” Husk said, looking at Alastor with an unbothered look in his eyes and a playful smirk, “Nobody else is sick, not even close, you’re just a fuckin’ germaphobe.” 

“Indeed I am, and I wear it with pride,” Alastor said, turning his nose up in the air, indignant that Husk was mocking him for his sense of caution. 

“Well, can you wear it with pride someplace else? I’m busy,” Husk said, going back to counting bottles, his heart-shaped nose twitching slightly as he focused. 

“Hmph! If you insist… I’ll be back,” Alastor sighed, retreating into his own shadow and vanishing to go back to whatever he was doing, leaving Husk alone behind the bar with nothing but his own breathing and the quiet ambience of the evening to keep him company. 

For a moment, Husk pondered Alastor’s overblown concerns, realizing that for him the concerns were much more realistic, he spent the better part of three to four hours neck-deep in Charlie’s germs… and the flu was known for being particularly infectious… 

“Nahhh, I’m fine, Alastor’s got the immune system of a wet sock in a wind tunnel, I’ll be fine,” Husk said in a futile attempt to reassure himself, “It was only a few hours, it takes longer than that to catch it from somebody… yeah.” 

Husk paused, going back to examining his inventory sheet in silence when a violent tingling sensation from an unknown irritant radiated through his nose, causing his adorable heart-shaped button to twitch and wiggle. His nose grew itchier and itchier and itchier until- 

“HRrr’SsCHOO! H-hRrr’SSCHUHH!” 

Husk gave a damp sniffle, wiping at his nostrils with the back of his hand. Slightly nervous, Husk swallowed, choosing to ignore the fact that he felt a faint tickle in the back of his throat. 

“I’m fine… I’m fine,” Husk insisted, chasing his willfully ignorant affirmations with a swig of whiskey. 

[wilbursprincess]

October 9- Dadbur’s New Neighbor

Dadbur x Charlotte

Warnings: Voice kink, praise kink, size kink (if you squint), so much dirty talk, dominant Dadbur, bratty Charlotte, some mentions of alcohol/drinking, Belle being very out of her element

Y’all, I have a confession to make. This is my favorite fic from the entirety of Fictober. I dipped my toes into character creating for Charlotte, and I hope you guys love her as much as I do!

Fic below cut!

“I got you, Daddy!” Wilbur’s daughter, Tallulah, says triumphantly, her gap-toothed smile melting any annoyance he might’ve had for loosing the third consecutive round of Candyland. “I got you!”

Wilbur chuckles. “Well done, sweetheart. Another game? We’ve got time for one more before it’s your bedtime.”

Tallulah shakes her head, her favorite red beanie almost slipping off her head. “I don’t wanna go to bed!” She protests in vain. “It’s not even dark out!”

Sighing, Wilbur pulls his daughter’s hat back on her head. “Why don’t I make us some cocoa, and we can go catch lightning bugs?”

All Tallulah’s annoyance at bedtime vanishes. “Yes!” She gasps. “Can we, can we?”

“Only if you don’t complain about going to bed afterwards.” Wilbur laughs, kissing his daughter on the forehead and standing up from the living room floor. “C’mon, ‘Lulah. Do you want whipped cream or marshmallows on yours?”

The 7 year old girl smiles, taking her dad’s hand as they walk to the kitchen. “Both?”

“Only for my precious little girl.”

Wilbur has plenty of time to think as his daughter runs around on the grass of their backyard. It was barely a year since Tallulah’s mum had walked out on them, and he was glad to see it hadn’t affected her too much. Wilbur’s mum took her for a few days each week now that she was finished with school for the summer, which was just as much fun for her as it was a break for him. Being a single dad was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he loved little Tallulah so fiercely, it made it all worth it.

“Daddy! I got one!” Wilbur’s pulled from his musings by Tallulah jumping onto his lap, a glowing bug crawling around on her palm.

Wilbur grins, wrapping an arm around his daughter. “That’s my clever girl. You want to let him go now?”

“Do I have to?” She asks, looking down at the light loosely held in her hand with a quivering lip. “Can we keep him? At least for tonight?”

His heart aches at her childhood carelessness. Even the little things are the biggest deal, since your world is so small.

“Don’t you want him to get home safely to his family?” Wilbur gently retorts, prying Tallulah’s fingers from around the tiny bug. “You wouldn’t want his dad to worry.”

She considers it for a moment, before letting him go. “Bye, Mr. Lightning bug!” She calls into the darkening sky. “Have fun with your family!”

“Time for bed, darling,” Wilbur says, both of them watching the lightning bug fly away. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Tallulah yawns, snuggling closer into her dad. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

“I was thinking we could go to the park and then bake some cookies,” he replies, carefully scooping up his weary daughter and their empty mugs. “What do you think?”

Her eyes are closed, little arms wrapped tightly around Wilbur’s neck. She nods sleepily, and he can’t help but smile to himself as he carries her to bed.

The next afternoon, Wilbur’s just lifting Tallulah up so she can pull the cookies out of the oven when they hear what sounds like beeping from outside.

“What’s that, Daddy?” Tallulah asks, wide-eyed with curiosity. “What’s making that noise?”

Turning off the oven, Wilbur’s curiosity is piqued. “I’m not sure, darling. Let’s check it out.”

When he peers out the front window, he’s surprised to see a massive truck reversing into the neighbor’s driveway, red block letters spelling out Moving & Co on the side.

“That’s a big truck!” Tallulah observes. “What’s it for?”

Two men jump out of the truck and start to haul boxes out of the back. When Wilbur squints, he can see them labeled in colorful sharpie- ‘living room’, ‘office’, and ‘kitchen’.

“We’re getting a new neighbor, ‘Lulah!” Wilbur tells his daughter, who gasps exctedly.

The house next door to Wilbur and Tallulah’s was a tiny little one-bedroom, and had seen a series of young couples and college students over the years, but hadn’t been lived in for at least a year now.

As the men continue to unload the truck, a baby blue Volkswagen Beetle pulls up to the curb outside the house. The driver door opens, and Wilbur sees a woman step out. Short, curvy, and ginger, she bumps the door shut with her hip, purse swinging from the crook of her arm.

“Is she the neighbor?” Tallulah says, sounding a little disappointed. “I wanted someone with a kid my age. I want someone to play with.”

“Shh,” Wilbur replies, a little harsher than he intended; he’s more focused on his new neighbor.

He watches her walk up the driveway, long hair swinging with every step. She’s dressed simply- t-shirt, jeans, and a cardigan, looking a little travel-weary, but Wilbur finds her beautiful.

“Can we go say hi?” Tallulah begs, tugging on Wilbur’s sleeve. “Please?”

Wilbur starts to say no, but realises he’s just as curious about this woman as his daughter.

“Of course, sweetheart. Why don’t we plate up a few of those cookies for her?”

“Hi!” Tallulah yells across the yard as she sprints towards their new neighbor, and Wilbur’s very glad he insisted on taking the cookies.

The woman turns around, and her face lights up at the sight of them. “Hi, sweetie!” She says warmly. “To who do I owe the pleasure?”

Tallulah stands in front of her, spinning around to point at Wilbur, crossing the lawn at a normal pace. “My daddy.”

“Your daddy, hm?” She says, flicking her eyes up and down Wilbur’s body so fast, he can’t tell if he imagined it. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you both. I’m Charlotte.”

“I’m Wilbur,” Wilbur replies, offering her a handshake and the plate of cookies. “And this is my daughter Tallulah. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Tallulah is still gazing in awe at Charlotte. “I made those cookies with my daddy,” she says proudly.

Charlotte smiles fondly down at the little girl. “That’s so sweet of you both,” she says, bending down to take the hug Tallulah is offering.

“Where are you from?” Wilbur asks his new neighbor once Tallulah sits at her feet.

“London,” Charlotte replies, sitting next to Tallulah and motioning for Wilbur to do the same. “I wanted to get out of the city, and it was too bloody expensive for me, living alone. I’m enjoying the silence already.”

Wilbur laughs. “I lived in London for awhile, too,” he says. “I agree. Too bloody expensive.”

Tallulah nudges Charlotte. “Try the cookies!”

She reaches for a cookie and breaks it in half, offering half to Tallulah before taking a massive bite. “This is delicious,” she mumbles around her mouthful. “I’m starving.”

“Do you want any lunch?” Wilbur offers as Charlotte reaches for another cookie. “I was just about to heat up some leftovers, there’s plenty for you too.”

“Really?” Charlotte stops mid-chew. “You’d do that?”

Wilbur smiles at her. “Of course.”

Tallulah runs ahead of Wilbur and Charlotte as they step through the front door, leaving the two new aquantances in an awkward silence.

“I love this wallpaper,” Charlotte offers. “Your house is really nice.”

Wilbur tries to keep his face neutral. “Thank you. Tallulah’s mum redid the whole place when we moved in.”

Charlotte’s silent, nibbling her bottom lip and clearly embarrassed. “Sorry,” she says finally. “Thought wallpaper was a safe conversation starter.”

Her little joke lightens the air considerably, and Wilbur can feel affection blooming in his chest for his neighbor already. “You’re fine,” he laughs, leading her to the kitchen. “She left us just over a year ago. Tallulah took it pretty hard, but it’s nice to see her smile again.”

“She’s such a sweetheart,” Charlotte grins. “What’s on the menu?”

Pulling open the fridge with a flourish, Wilbur proudly holds up a glass Tupperware container. “Leftover spaghetti with about 3.5 meatballs. Tallulah ate most of them last night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Laughing, Charlotte shakes her head, auburn waves flying around her face. “She’s so cute, I can’t complain. Thanks again for lunch, Wilbur.”

“Call me Will,” he replies, almost without thinking. “And maybe don’t thank me until after you try my cooking. I’m not the most adept in the kitchen.

Charlotte snorts. “Why would I complain about a free lunch?”

Wilbur slyly observes Charlotte as she taps her foot against the leg of the chair, seemingly lost in her old world. The red hair he had observed when she stepped out of the car isn’t actually red like he thought- it’s a shiny auburn, almost brunette now she’s out of the sun. Her eyes are a fierce, sparkling sapphire; the deep blue of the Brighton sea.

“Are you going to ask me about myself, or just try and read my mind while you stare at me?” Charlotte’s sweet voice makes Wilbur jump, and she giggles at his shock. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

Wilbur turns around to open the fridge to hide his flushed, embarrassed face. “So, Charlotte, tell me about yourself,” he deadpans. “Better?”

When he looks back over, his new neighbor is grinning; a genuine, beaming smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “There we go,” she laughs. “My full name is Charlotte Hughes, I was born and raised in London, I like to crochet, read, and garden in my free time, and my favorite color is blue. I think I covered most of the questions, no?”

“Not a bad summary,” Wilbur agrees. “My turn. My full name is Wilbur Soot, I was also born and raised in London, I like to play the guitar and write music in my free time, and my favorite color is teal.”

The microwave beeps- lunch is ready. But Wilbur’s not focused on the lunch, he’s focused on the enigma of a woman sitting at his kitchen table.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Tallulah’s voice snaps Wilbur to his senses as she runs into the kitchen, clutching a piece of crayon-scribbled paper. “I drew us!”

Charlotte smiles at the little girl. “Aww, you drew you and your daddy! Can I see?”

Tallulah excitedly shows her the drawing, and Charlotte looks amused, shooting a look at Wilbur, who’s scooping spaghetti onto three plates. “Why don’t you show him?”

“Daddy, look!” Wilbur’s daughter says, pressing the paper into his hand. He glances down at it and does a double take. It’s a drawing of the two of them- and Charlotte.

“You clever girl,” Wilbur says, forcing his face to hide the shock. “You drew Daddy’s new friend!”

Charlotte shoots a look at Wilbur. “Your new friend, hm? What an honor.”

A few days have passed since Wilbur met Charlotte, and he can’t stop thinking about her. He focuses on keeping Tallulah fed, entertained, and happy, but it’s when he’s alone that he lets his mind wander next door.

On the third day after Charlotte moved in, Wilbur heads across their shared lawn with a nice bottle of wine, a massive bouquet of flowers, and a few bags of crisps. A welcome gift, he’ll call it, blaming himself for not knowing her move-in date and having it ready then.

Charlotte opens the door right away after he knocks, almost like she was waiting for him. “Will!” She greets him warmly, beckoning him inside. “What’s all this?”

“A welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift, several of them,” he says, trying to sound casual as he slips off his shoes. “Tallulah’s at my mum’s, so I thought I’d keep you company for a few hours.”

She grins. “Aww, how thoughtful. Just let me get the dirt off my hands, I was just out in the garden.”

Charlotte’s wearing a simple blue sundress today, auburn waves pulled back with a crochet bandana that looks handmade. While she washes her hands, Wilbur glances around the little house. There’s not much more than a bunch of boxes, the only furniture he sees is a slightly tired couch, a worn coffee table, and Tallulah’s drawing from the day they met taped to the wall.

“I haven’t done much unpacking,” Charlotte says apologetically, like she read his mind. “Actually, since you’re here, I could use a hand bringing some boxes upstairs?”

Wilbur smiles. “No problem. Any chance to show off my muscles,” he deadpans, flexing his bicep and stifling a giggle. Charlotte blushes, holding a hand over her mouth as she laughs. “Where are they?”

Charlotte points him to a stack of boxes next to the staircase, and motions for him to grab the top box. Wilbur’s arms ache immediately, the box heavier than expected, but feigns indifference and starts to walk up the stairs.

“Oh, Will,” she gasps, taking half the box’s weight in her hands, fingers just brushing Wilbur’s. “Those are my mystery novels, and they’re super heavy! Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he lies, some strange feeling swirling in his stomach at the feeling of Charlotte’s fingers on his. “I didn’t pique you as the type to like mystery novels!”

She giggles. “Oh, there’s plenty for you to still learn about me, Will.” She clearly means it lightly, but his brain immediately spirals down filthy alleys. “My bedroom’s straight ahead, by the way, you can set it down there.”

Charlotte’s bedroom doesn’t have more than a mattress on the floor, sheets piled in a heap and pillow askew.

“You really haven’t done any unpacking, have you?” Wilbur jokes, setting down the box.

She shakes her head. “I got a new bedframe and furniture from Ikea… but I haven’t felt like putting it together yet. Not on top of everything I’ve already had to do.”

Wilbur pauses. “Well, since I’m here…”

An hour later, they’re halfway through a bottle of wine and devoured a bag of crisps, Wilbur’s neglected toolbox between them and a half-finished bed frame on the floor.

“Thanks again for the help, Will,” Charlotte murmurs, kneeling on the floor holding a screwdriver. Wilbur’s right next to her, holding the box of screws. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem, Char.” The nickname slips from Wilbur’s lips without him thinking, and he instantly bites his tongue.

“Did you just call me Char?” Charlotte fixes him with her beautiful blue eyes, a gorgeous flush rising through her freckled cheeks.

Wilbur pauses. “Depends on if you like being called that.”

She nods. “I do.”

Her tongue licks at her bottom lip, then she nibbles on it, a tiny thing that drives Wilbur mad.

If he didn’t know before, he knew now. He knew just how badly he wanted her, knew that they could get as far as he wanted in the two hours before he had to pick up his daughter, right on the mattress he was practically sitting on. He wonders if she’s wearing panties under that adorable little sundress.

Then he catches himself.

“Didn’t quite think you were the type to be called Lottie,” he says, forcing himself to keep his mind on the task at hand.

If Charlotte is disappointed, she doesn’t show it. “Not one bit,” she laughs. “Primary school is one thing, being in my mid-20s is another.”

She’s sitting with her legs tucked under her, dress spread out over her upper thighs, breasts straining against a scoop neckline. Tiny bow earrings match the rose gold wireframes of her glasses, and when she leans down to fasten a leg to the frame, a chunk of hair falls in her face. Wilbur resists the urge to push it back, tuck it behind her ear, and kiss her senseless.

“Is that a record player?” Wilbur asks, hoping to change the subject. “I didn’t know you were into music.”

Charlotte follows his gaze. “It is!” She says happily. “I’ll show you my record collection. It was the first thing I unpacked.”

She plonks a heavy box in Wilbur’s lap, leaving him to go through it while she gets back to work on the bed frame. evermore and folklore by Taylor Swift; Hello Sadness and Romance Is Boring by Los Campesinos!; AM and Favorite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys; Dreaming Out Loud by One Republic; Divide, Multiply, and Subtract by Ed Sheeran, and many others, both familiar and unfamiliar to Wilbur.

“This is an amazing collection,” Wilbur says after awhile, and Charlotte nods in agreement. “I didn’t strike you as the type to like the Arctic Monkeys or Los Camp.”

“You can put one on, if you like?” She replies. “We need a break from building.”

After a few moments, the record player crackles to life, the intro to By Your Hand starting to play. Charlotte smiles when she recognises it.

“This is my favorite song from Los Camp,” she says, standing up and offering her hand to Wilbur. “Will you dance with me?”

He couldn’t say no, even if he was trying to keep his thoughts PG, or at least PG-13.

Wilbur takes her hand in his, her tiny hand obscured by his as he spins her around, dress raising dangerously high. Charlotte takes his other hand, trying in vain to spin him around, too.

“You’re too tall,” she pouts, making him laugh as he dips her back over his arm, dramatically pointing her leg in the air like a ballerina. “Can you tell I have no clue what I’m doing?”

“That makes two of us, love,” Wilbur says, turning his face away as they start a clumsy tango so she can’t see how red his face is.

“You’re a lifesaver, Char,” Wilbur says, rushing into his jacket and shoes, giving little Tallulah a peck on the forehead. “Sorry for the last minute babysitting. Call me if you need anything, my number’s on the fridge.”

“Don’t worry about it, Will,” she says, flicking her hand as if to brush away the apology. “Go look after your mum, and Tallulah and I can have a girl’s night.”

Tallulah blinks up at her dad, tears pooling in the corners of her dark eyes. “Granny’s going to be ok, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Wilbur promises. “She’s just had a bit of a fall, and needs me to pick her up from A&E and help her settle in back home. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Charlotte hands Wilbur his car keys. “Don’t worry about us, Will,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand. “You worry about looking after your mum, and I’ll take care of your little angel for you.”

When Wilbur glances over his shoulder after shutting the door, he sees his daughter clinging to Charlotte’s leg, who appears to be wiping her tears and trying to make her laugh. She waves, Tallulah following suit, and Wilbur immediately feels the wave of love he’s been trying to ignore for his sweet little neighbor flooding back.

Typical of the British medical system, it takes much longer for Wilbur to get his mum discharged and settled at home, meaning Charlotte calls him so he can tell Tallulah goodnight.

“Daddy and Granny love you so much, darling,” Wilbur promises his daughter through the phone. “You’ll see me in the morning.”

Wilbur: thank you so so so much again

Charlotte: it’s no issue! tallulah’s a sweetheart.

Charlotte: she’s fast asleep btw

Wilbur: seriously i cannot thank you enough

Wilbur: make yourself at home, you’re welcome to anything in the fridge and you can stay in my room for the night if you want

Charlotte: really?

Wilbur: it’s the least i can do

When he does finally get home, it’s 4am, and the house is silent. Wilbur first checks on Tallulah, who’s still asleep, and then walks into his room, where Charlotte is dead asleep on his bed. Wake me when you’re home, a note on the nightstand reads, so you can get some sleep.

“Char,” he whispers, gently shaking her shoulder. “Char. Wake up.”

She groans, rolling from her stomach to her back and blinking at him in the dim light. “How’s your mum?”

“Better,” Wilbur sighs. “How’s ‘Lulah?”

“Been asleep since around 9pm,” Charlotte replies, yawning. “She misses you.”

“You’re welcome to the couch if you’re still half asleep,” Wilbur whispers, but there’s no reply. “Char? You awake?”

A snore is his only reply.

“Daddy!” Tallulah’s voice wakes Wilbur up, but the tiny body leaping directly onto his stomach makes him even more awake. “You’re home! Why’s Charlotte still here?”

“Hm?” Wilbur manages to reply through the blur of sleep, looking over with a jolt to see Charlotte’s on the other side of the bed.

“Because your daddy woke me up when he got home, and he kindly let me stay over when he saw how tired I was,” Charlotte murmurs. “How’d you sleep, sweetie?”

Tallulah leaps over onto Charlotte. “Great! What about you guys?”

Wilbur groans and buries his face in the pillow.

“Your daddy is really sleepy, baby,” Charlotte gently explains. “He was up all night looking after your Gran. Why don’t I make you some breakfast and we let him sleep a bit more?”

He tries to murmur his thanks to her, but he falls asleep again before the words leave his mouth.

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” laughs Charlotte, hands on her hips as Wilbur walks down the stairs several hours later. “Feeling better now?”

“She made me pancakes,” Tallulah announces to nobody in particular, running up to Wilbur and smearing her sticky, maple syrup face all over his pajama pants.

Charlotte’s sipping from Wilbur’s favorite mug, hair lazily twisted into a knot on top of her head. She’s still in the clothes she came over in last night, baby blue sweatpants and a white tshirt, but looks fresh as a daisy.

“Did she, now?” Wilbur smiles, scooping up his daughter and kissing her on the forehead. “You two had fun yesterday?”

Tallulah nods. “She did my hair, and we colored, and we made muffins, and we played outside, and we-”

“I made you coffee, Will,” Charlotte interrupts, handing him a steaming mug.

Wilbur blinks.

“Your daddy’s still tired, Tallulah,” Charlotte giggles. “Why don’t you go play in your room for awhile and let him wake up?”

When Tallulah’s gone, she takes him by the arm and sits him on the sofa.

“You’re really good with Tallulah,” Wilbur manages after he takes several gulps of the coffee. “You planning on a family of your own someday?”

To his surprise, Charlotte shakes her head. “Nah. I could see myself either marrying someone with older kids, or maybe adopting. They’re only bearable when they’re not vaguely sentient potatoes.”

Wilbur snorts, almost spilling the coffee. “You’re not wrong. I love Tallulah, but man, I don’t miss the baby phase.”

“Her mum was still in the picture then?” Charlotte asks, somewhat awkwardly, and he nods. “I still can’t imagine being a single parent. You’re a great dad.”

Wilbur sips his coffee to hide the flush in his face. “You make great coffee, Char,” he says, changing the subject. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Charlotte’s mouth drops open, and he realises with a lurch what he just said. “Shit, you knew what I meant,” Wilbur adds quickly, and wonders if he’s imagining the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

“I mean, you did technically wake up next to me this morning, so I’ll allow it,” she teases after a moment of silence.

“At least I don’t snore,” Wilbur retorts, and Charlotte giggles, undoing her topknot and leaning towards him with a gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t hear you snore either.”

She winks. “You’re lucky I didn’t roll right into your arms. I’m a pretty restless sleeper.”

“I’d just have to hold you tight if you did, so you wouldn’t roll onto the floor!”

“With those strong arms of yours?” Charlotte pokes his bicep. “You’d crush me!”

Wilbur shoots her a sly grin. “Wanna bet?” He asks, barely hesitating before scooping her into his arms. She’s tiny, not even coming up to his shoulder when standing, but feels even tinier when he holds her.

“Oof,” she giggles, wriggling around, trying in vain to get free. “You’re too strong!”

They’re laughing too hard to notice Tallulah coming downstairs until she’s standing in front of them. “What are you guys doing?” She asks curiously. “Are you two wrestling?”

“Yes, we are, sweetheart,” Wilbur says awkwardly, all too aware of what that euphemism usually stands for, and Charlotte snorts.

“Yay!” She yells, jumping onto the two of them. “I want Auntie Charlotte to stay forever!”

Wilbur glances at his daughter sitting happily in Charlotte’s lap.

Me too.

Wilbur and Charlotte’s platonic-yet-flirty friendship continues. She’s over for dinner more often than not, and Wilbur spends the afternoons Tallulah’s out of the house at Charlotte’s, helping her unpack and build her new furniture.

She’s mostly platonic around Wilbur and his daughter, but there’s always a comment or two that sticks in his head when he’s in bed at night.

“Your mum was a very lucky person, sweetheart,” she’d said to Tallulah one night, stroking the little girl’s hair while Wilbur cooked dinner for the three of them. “Your daddy is a wonderful man.”

Wilbur had to turn away so Charlotte didn’t see him blushing a fierce red.

Another time, likely fueled by the bottle of wine they were sharing, she got bolder. “Are you seeing anyone right now?” She asked, eyes looking anywhere but his face.

“Uh, why do you ask?” He replied curiously. “I’m not, no. Not really looking to while Tallulah’s so young, but I miss getting laid.”

He immediately regretted the last line, but Charlotte burst out laughing, spilling her wine down her shirt. “Just making conversation, Will, don’t fret,” she said, patting his knee affectionately. “I get what you mean though. God, I haven’t had good dick in ages.”

Wilbur had gone home after that, desperately rutting into his hand as he pictured Charlotte’s bright eyes, the wine seeping across her ample bosom, and her delicate little voice repeating God, I haven’t had good dick in ages.

He was ashamed afterwards, roughly cleaning himself up with a tissue and managing to miss the bin when he goes to throw it out. Before he can catch himself, he wonders if she ever did the same thing while thinking about him.

After Wilbur drops Tallulah off at his mum’s house a few days later, he heads over to Charlotte’s, as per usual. He doesn’t even have to knock anymore- just opens the door to see a smiling Charlotte uncorking the usual bottle of wine.

“Will!” She greets him, handing him a glass. “How’s your mum doing?”

“A lot better,” he reports happily. “I think Tallulah’s helping her out.”

The two of them head into the living room, where Charlotte’s got her TV set up. It’s midway through a Star Wars movie.

“Ooh, Return of the Jedi, nice,” Wilbur says, sitting next to her and grabbing a handful of crisps. “My favorite.”

“Mine too!” Charlotte gasps. “No way.”

Wilbur laughs. “Who’s your favorite? Mine’s Han.”

“Leia. She’s a badass who gets to date the hottest guy,” she replies, a flush rising in her freckled cheeks. “I see why Han’s your favorite.”

He snorts into his wine. “And why’s that?”

“Han doesn’t open himself up to affection or love, but when he does, he gets the princess.” Charlotte rests her chin on his shoulder. “Sound familiar?”

Wilbur shakes his head, puzzled. “Should it?”

“Christ, you’re as thick as it gets,” she sighs, taking his face in her dainty little hands and kissing him.

It takes him a second to react, but when he does, he kisses her hungrily, scooping her into his lap in the desperation to get her closer. Charlotte’s hands stroke down his chest over his shirt, Wilbur’s finger hooked into the belt loop of her jeans, tugging her closer.

“Char, my goodness,” he murmurs against her lips.

“Mmm, that sounds so nice when you say it,” Charlotte sighs happily.

Wilbur pulls back slightly, a smirk playing on her face. “Someone has a voice kink.”

“So what if I do?” She answers playfully. “Like I told you, there’s plenty more for you to still learn about me.”

He starts to undo the buttondown shirt tucked into Charlotte’s jeans, exposing her lacy bralette just as she unbuckles his belt.

“Is this a good time to tell you I have a crush on you?” Wilbur teases, tossing the buttondown onto the floor along with his belt.

Charlotte laughs, reaching for his shirt and practically tearing it off. “Is this a good time to tell you I love giving head?”

“Oh, really?” Wilbur grins as she slides onto the floor and unbuttons his fly. “You love giving head?”

She kneels in front of him, biting her lip and nodding.

Wilbur pulls his jeans down to his knees, smirking. “Well, then, prove it to me.”

Charlotte winks, reaching into his boxers and pulling his cock out. Her eyes widen.

“I know, it’s big,” he tells her, giving himself a few long, slow strokes, precum dripping down his fingers. “You can take it.”

She bends her head down, slowly circling her tongue around the very tip. Wilbur groans, pressing his head against the back of the sofa. The edge of Charlotte’s tongue traces down the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, then lazily back up, tiny fireworks of pleasure exploding in the very pit of his stomach.

“You look so good down there, Char,” Wilbur praises, tilting her chin up so she’s forced to look at him, resting a thumb glistening with precum on her lower lip. Without hesitation, she licks it off, swiping her tongue around her lips. “You like how I taste, hm?”

“So good,” Charlotte whispers, pressing a kiss onto the crest of each hip bone, then licking down his happy trail.

Wilbur’s hips jump up as she finally takes his length into her soft, warm mouth, roughly grabbing a fistful of her hair to guide her head up and down. One of her dainty little hands is stroking him where her mouth can’t reach, the other tracing circles on his thigh.

He tries to at least somewhat keep his composure, but Charlotte knows exactly what she’s doing, and as the pleasure gets more intense, he can’t keep it up much longer.

“Oh- fuck, Char, baby,” he manages to gasp out, toes curling, eyes rolled back in his head. He’s making an effort not to thrust down her throat and choke her, legs shaking from both the effort and pleasure.

Wilbur’s a shaking, whining, pathetic little mess, and Charlotte can tell. He knows she can tell. The way her sapphire gaze fixes him as she bobs her head, the smirk escaping even with his cock stuffed in her mouth.

It takes every single last ounce of strength in his body to not give into the climax, the fury of it building up, hot and explosive, shivers running through his entire body. Just before he spills deep down Charlotte’s throat, he pulls her off. Every single cell in his body is screaming from the ruined orgasm, and he can’t stop himself from thrusting his hips into the air, desperately searching for more stimulation.

“Don’t…” Wilbur gasps in a breath. “Don’t want this to be over yet.”

Charlotte looks at him slyly. “Wanna head upstairs? I have condoms in my nightstand”

He’s standing up before the sentence fully leaves her mouth, taking Charlotte’s hand and letting her lead him up the staircase and into her bed.

Feeling her underneath him, bare skin on bare skin, is better than Wilbur could’ve ever imagined. He wages a brief, successful war on the clasp of her bra, dropping it on the floor and drinking in the sight of her.

Kissing a line down her chest, Wilbur tweaks one of her nipples with his teeth before circling it with his tongue. His hand snakes into her jeans, effortlessly undoing the fly and creeping into her soaked panties.

“Mmm, you’re drenched, love,” he murmurs, somewhat muffled by her tit in his mouth. “You’re going to feel like heaven when I’m finally inside you.”

Charlotte moans softly, weakly grabbing his wrist as his nimble fingers find her clit. “Fuck, keep talking,” she pleads.

“You’ve been driving me crazy since we met,” Wilbur whispers into her ear, biting her earlobe and leaving a hickey on her neck. Her nails dig into Wilbur’s back as he slips one finger inside her, then another. “Want you to be nice and ready for my cock, darling. Want to be able to feel you come undone around me, moaning my name.”

Charlotte’s hips shift, grinding down as she tries to ride his fingers. “No, no, Char,” he gently chides. “The only thing you should be riding is my cock. This is just the warm-up.”

He pulls his head back, slipping his fingers out of her and licking them clean. “I wanna see you. I almost came in my pants when I took your bra off, and couldn’t resist seeing the rest,” he says, tugging off the rest of her clothes

Charlottes’s even better than he imagined under her clothes, a pile of freckled heart shapes and soft curves. Wilbur kisses her collar bone, each freckle on her chest, her belly button and each hip bone, hands nestled into the curve of her waist.

As he takes his boxers and jeans off, he thinks there’s been enough foreplay for the time being, and she clearly agrees. “Hang on,” she breathes, rolling over to dig in her nightstand and pulling out a condom. “May I?”

“One second,” Wilbur says, gentle pushing her hand away. “Before we do this, Char… no matter where this night takes our friendship, my daughter will always come first.”

Charlotte nods. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Will,” she murmurs, kissing his nose.

“Thank you,” he replies, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. “I knew you’d understand. However… now that that’s out of the way-”

She smiles, tearing open the foil packet with her teeth and rolling it onto his cock with an expert hand.

Wilbur lines himself up, and the first thrust makes them both gasp. “Fuck, you’re so big,” Charlotte whines, arching her back under him. Even through the latex, he can tell she’s absolutely soaking wet and stuffed to the brim with his cock.

She’s letting out a tiny moan each time he thrusts into her, one of Wilbur’s massive hands supporting her lower back and the other caressing the nape of her neck, kissing her so softly compared to how he’s fucking her.

Charlotte’s nails leave tiny half-moon dents along his bare back, her body practically trembling from the overwhelming pleasure. Wilbur’s sure she’d collapse onto the mattress if he wasn’t holding her up.

Her face is otherworldly, plump pink lips in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes rolled so far back, Wilbur can barely see the blue he loves so much. He moves his hand from the nape of Charlotte’s neck, slipping it between their joined bodies and stroking her clit in time with his thursts.

“Will!” She practically screams out, sinking her teeth into his lower lip as her entire body tightens. He doesn’t change up a single movement as he pushes her through a shattering orgasm, in awe of her perfect body in the aftermath of what just hit her.

“Did you-” Charlotte starts to ask, chest heaving, sweat dripping.

Wilbur shakes his head, dropping onto the mattress next to her. “No, baby. I’ve got enough left in me to give you another. Ride me?”

Her face lights up like she’s been waiting her whole life for him to ask that very question. Before he can react, Charlotte’s hovering just above his achingly hard cock, hands resting on his chest for leverage.

Wilbur’s hands paw at her hips, and he has to hold his breath as she sinks herself down, willing himself to hold off for at least a few more minutes.

“Fu-” he groans. “Char, holy shit.”

She somehow looks even better from this angle. Perfect tits bouncing against her rosy, freckled skin as she adjusts to his cock, auburn waves hanging over her flushed face, curvy hips starting to move as she rides him.

“Just like that, baby,” Wilbur murmurs, starting to thrust up into her once she finds her pace. “Just like that.”

She’s riding him like her life depends on it, so wet that she’s soaked her sheets and Wilbur’s lower stomach. He can practically feel her throbbing with sheer, desperate lust.

Their two joined bodies rock in unison, so smoothly it’s hard to believe they were strangers not even a month before. They’re both slick with sweat, flushed with arousal; bodies littered with nail marks, nibbles, hickeys, and other blatant signs of sex. It’s a good thing summers in England are dreary- turtlenecks will be their friends for the next few days.

“Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, Char, there, right there, just like that, fucking hell,” Wilbur moans, all inhibitions out the window as he teeters on the edge of an explosive climax.

“Oh, my God,” Charlotte groans, entire body trembling as he pushes her into her second high. Now that he’s satisfied his girl, not once, but twice, Wilbur can let go. And let go he does- riding out possibly the best orgasm of his life, pressed against Charlotte’s tits as he fills up the condom, grasping at her body for leverage against the aftershocks.

Laying back against Charlotte’s pillow, he dimly realises she’s climbed off him, leaning up to wipe his sweaty brow with a tender hand.

“You alright?” She asks tentatively, stroking a finger down his cheek.

He manages to nod.

“Holy shit,” Wilbur murmurs. “Char, that was… something else.”

She kisses him softly, hands caressing the hickies she’s left all over his neck and chest. Somehow, even after all she’s put it through, his cock twitches. She really was that incredible.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” he murmurs, and Charlotte laughs softly, coming to lay against him. Her smile-dimpled cheek is pressed against his stubble, one leg swung lazily over his waist. “I could spend the rest of the night with you, just like this.”

“Don’t you have to pick up Tallulah?”

“She’s staying at my mum’s tonight. How do you feel about a sleepover?”

The morning after goes exactly as expected. Wilbur and Charlotte wake up together as a pile of tangled limbs, and when she makes a sly comment about how good morning wood feels, he can’t help but bend her over and pound into her until she’s almost sobbing from pleasure.

And the days after? Nothing between them changes… in front of Tallulah, of course. Tallulah is overjoyed at her Auntie Charlotte being around more often, and Wilbur’s mum is loving the extra time with her granddaughter when Wilbur and Charlotte want some alone time. The sex is mindblowing, their friendship is close. Not bad for someone who just happened to move in next door.

[sakurasnowfall]

hi, Idk if i’m doing This right, but could you please write Some angst that turns into fluff about Reader x anime sanji? reader can be Afab or gender neutral, i don’t mind. You can also choose the scenario, Full control :)

thank You 🤩 and its ok if you don’t get to this, LOVE your writing by the way it’s So beautiful

Hi! As regards to your *Idk if im doing this right* no worries fam, neither do I (your request was perfect, though, so no worries!) 😭

Here is the story. I brain stormed maybe 7 ideas for this starting the night I got this request. It stumped me so freaking bad, and it took a couple weeks to get an...almost complete draft down. I let it sit for way to long, hence why it has been nearly a whole month. So here is what I am gonna do. I just wrote the missing 1/4 of this. I am going to post what it now. I WILL BE GOING BACK TO EDIT THIS AND MAKING IT BETTER. My anxiety was screaming at me to at least put out SOMETHING. So, I hope this is okay FOR NOW. I know it sucks, but I promise eventually I will improve it for you!

Thank you thank you thank you for the compliment!!! Lots of love <3

Tw : Blood, syringe mention, death mentioned

Established relationship, fem reader, and () used as a name placeholder.

Sanji usually loved red. Maroon roses. Vermillion wine. Scarlett sunsets. Ruby hearts. But now? He hated it. He hated it so much. Seeing it, dripping from every spot on her body. Covering her in a sheet of sickening crimson. Imagining what he would give to swap their places was not a thought for the faint of heart. All he could do was watch as Chopper gently cleaned the blood off of her arms and her face. As the tiny doctor wrapped her torso in bandages, her hovered, almost like a ghost with how pale and silent he remained. Ironic...that the chef of the crew himself was the only one who did not eat. Actually, that was not quiet true, as he forced himself a few forkfuls of food, guided by the phantom scolding he heard from () about neglecting his self care. He spent that night in the infirmary with her. Listening to the fragile, feathery breaths that balanced her on the edge of his world and the next. He thought that was the worst sound he would hear that day. This was not the case. Sanji learned that the worst sound was not the sound of her anguished screams. It was not the sound of her painful, labored breaths. He learned it was not the sound of her unconscious cries.

Sanji learned that the worst sound was no sound at all.

No amount of force on the Grandline could be guaranteed success in trying to restrain him. Sanji couldn't see Chopper scrambling to her bedside or hear him shouting. He couldn't hear Luffy's yelling. He couldnt hear Zoros grunts as the swordsman tried in vain to hold the cook down, slamming him to the floor after narrowly avoiding a kick to the head. If he couldn't see Robins powers prop up various instruments for Chopper, then certainly couldn't have seen one of her hands stabbing a syringe into his arm.

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

When the cook awoke, it wasn't his head, or his knees - which had been bent underneath his weight - that hurt the most. It was his heart. His ever-bleeding heart, over flowing with the love that gushed and overflowed. How he found the strength to stand, he wasn't sure. But when he did, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. A place that held a bright, white shimmer and a peculiar haze about it, yet for all it's light gave off no warmth. He rubbed the back of his head, turning to better gauge his surroundings. That's when he saw her. Standing, maybe 200 feet away from him. Standing. Almost shimmering, radiant. Alive. If his legs had ever held a purpose other than carrying him to her, they didn't remember, as he sprinted toward her. She was just about to turn to him, when shadow, greater than anything he had ever seen, was summoned forth from the white ground, casting an ugly contrast, dragging whatever twisted world he was in from chilled to ice-cold. Sanji knew what this shadow was. More sure than he had been of almost anything in his life. It wanted her. Maybe it wanted him as well. He had run from it more times than he could count. But there was no running this time.

Rage guided his motions, and his love refined them to a deadly point, spearing the sheer power of his attacks into his opponent's core. If fighting death itself was all that stood between him and his life, then he would gladly fight it. Death wanted his life, and it would not have her. His fire lit it's shadows, extinguishing them, bit by bit, piece by piece. Until there was nothing left but air.

By the time he was done, adrenaline had rewarded him with the energy to run the remaining distance to her. When he reached her, he stopped. He reached out, his hand shaking. "()........" His voice failed him, his hand attempting to make up for his words by softly coming to rest at the side of her face. She had not broken her silence, but he could see her returning to him. Shutting her eyes and leaning into his touch, a few stray teardrops escaping her eyes, his own eyes mirroring the action. Her kissed her softly, hoping to regain his words through his actions. He pulled back after a brief moment, resting his forehead against hers. His hand had now moved to intertwine with hers. When his voice returned to him, in a whisper "let's go home......"

When Sanji woke up, his eyes had hardly opened before he sprang out of bed, scrambling into Chopper's office. He saw () sitting up, awake, eyes locked on him. He paused, before carefully approaching her, perhaps afraid that THIS was the dream.

"Are you.....how are you......feeling? " the blonde came to gently sit on the edge of her bed, carefully reaching out to cup to side of her face. () placed a hand atop his.

"I'm okay." He nodded, a few stray drops of bittersweet relief sliding down his face, quickly whisked away with a small laugh.

[priincekin]

Hyuluka Oneshot - Of Warmth and Withering

Luka, now an Alien Stage victor, comes to Hyuna's door in the dead of the night seeking a place to stay; Hyuna is more than reluctant to agree.

CW for an unhealthy relationship dynamic.

For in-depth tags, please check the AO3 upload! Apologies for any formatting issues, this is my first time ever posting fanfic on Tumblr.

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS NOW AN OLD VERSION. If flow and quality of writing is important to you, I implore you to check the AO3 link.

“Miss Hyuna?”

In her room, Hyuna lay on her stomach, gripping a pillow tightly. She pressed it against her ears, trying in vain to block out the irritating sound of Luka’s quiet, yet persistent. knocking. Each knock sounded like nails against a chalkboard, each making her more frustrated. Clenching her teeth, she prayed that the knocking would stop soon so she could retire for the night.

“Miss Hyunaaaa.”

Another knock, louder.

“Hyuna, please, hear me out. My quarters are freezing tonight, and I cannot sleep. I understand the need for discretion given our situation – rest assured, I can be quiet. A little secret between us, perhaps?”

He trailed off, mumbling the last part more to himself than to her. Hyuna rolled her eyes in response. As far as she was concerned, he could keep talking to himself forever for all she cared. She was determined not to let him in, not this time.

"Hyuna," he said, his voice growing more desperate by the second. "I know me winning Alien Stage might have put us at odds. It's bitterly cold out here, and frankly, you’re the only one I feel I can approach. Could I perhaps trouble you for a bit of warmth and company, just for tonight?" At odds? What an understatement.

Hyuna shut her eyes tight, nails digging into her pillow as memories flooded her mind. She could see little Luka in her mind’s eye, outside her door, tiny and shivering in his too-big white fur coat, his cheeks flushed from the cold. Those memories hit her hard - all those nights when a scared, sniffling Luka would tiptoe into her room, looking for the kind of comfort only she seemed to know how to give. He'd huddle close, his small hand holding hers, feeling safe only next to her. Things were simpler then, their friendship a little haven from the hell they lived in. But now, well, things had changed, and he had no place in her room.

Still, Luka persisted, each knock slowly gnawing away at her resolve.

‘He doesn’t deserve your sympathy’, she reminded herself. ‘Not after everything.’

Hesitantly, Hyuna sat up, her heart torn. Could one more night really cause any harm? She wondered. Dewey and Isaac had advised her to be firm, but they wouldn't know about this. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Shaking her head in resignation, she pushed herself up to sit on the edge of her bed. Hyuna reached for a cigarette with trembling fingers, her hands fumbling slightly as she lit it, the orange glow briefly illuminating her conflicted expression. Taking a deep, steadying drag, she let the smoke swirl around her, hoping it would calm her down and let her think straight, Finally, with a heavy sigh, she stood up, shuffling toward the door.

Hyuna yanked the door open with a force that echoed down the hallway, her eyes instantly locking onto Luka's pitiful form. He looked up at her, his cheeks unnaturally pale. Right. He never did do well in the cold.

She propped herself against the doorway, an eyebrow raised. Taking a long, lazy drag from her cigarette, she let the smoke billow out, watching it hang in the air; really, she would rather look at anything other than Luka. “Alright, Luka, out with it. It's too late for your shit. What's the big emergency? Lost your teddy bear?”

Luka flashed a disarming smile, the kind that usually got him what he wanted. “Ah, depriving me of your charming pet names? You wound me,” he quipped, effortlessly sliding past her into the room. With a flourish, he removed his luxurious coat, which now fit him perfectly, draping it over her rickety old chair. He let out an exaggerated sigh, as if shedding the weight of the world along with his coat. “Though I believe I made my situation quite clear. My room is cold, and I cannot sleep, and that is all there is to it.”

“Right. Riiiight. Because the segyein would totally let their precious little pet become an ice sculpture, huh?” Hyuna scoffed and put her hand on her hip. If looks could kill, Luka would be on the ground writhing in agony. She watched, half-amused, half-irritated, as Luka practically sashayed over to her cluttered vanity. He began fussing with his hair, his reflection preening back at him.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t ya?” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh wait, you already did. What’s next, Luka? Gonna raid my beer fridge too?”

“Ah, making myself at home? If you insist,” he retorted, catching her sarcastic tone. “Though, I'll pass on raiding your beer stash. Not quite my taste.” He picked up her scarcely used lip gloss, examining it with a curious eye. With a subtle smile, he admired the glitter's shine in the soft light.

“Your thoughts, darling?” he inquired, turning towards her as she sat on the bed. His tone was light, yet there was a sharpness in his gaze, a hint of calculation in his seemingly casual demeanor.

“Call me darlin’ one more time and I swear I'll superglue your lips shut.” Hyuna sat down on her bed, inhaling more smoke. She watched Luka like a hawk, deeply anxious about his every move. Obviously, she couldn’t trust him to behave himself. Why the hell had she let him in? Since when was she that stupid? Between the power he held over her and the shit he pulled in the last round…

“I must admit, I’m not too fond of your recent attitude.” Luka hummed, turning back to look at his reflection like it was a long-lost friend.

“Piss me off one more time and you’ll get more than my attitude. I don’t have the time for your bullshit.”

“It seems to me you have nothing but time for your dear childhood friend.” Luka’s voice dripped with a mocking sweetness as he gazed at her reflection in the mirror. He batted his eyelashes with an exaggerated innocence, a smug smile playing on his lips, fully aware of the irritation it would provoke in Hyuna. She clenched her fists, but kept them squarely at her side, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her anger.

“Oh, please. My childhood friend? That guy’s long gone. This person in front of me? I don’t even know who you are anymore, Luka. You’ve changed, and not for the better. So do me a favor, take your drama and get out of my room. I’ve got no space here for strangers.”

As he did with everything he disliked, Luka ignored her and instead sat down closely next to her. His perfume, a mix of white musk and sugar, was uncomfortably familiar to her.. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "You're right, I have changed as of late. It’s for the better. I’m no longer the fool you had to protect in your youth.” He paused. “But some things haven't changed at all..." His hand brushed against hers, a bold, yet seemingly casual gesture coming from him.

Hyuna's heart raced, but she quickly pulled her hand away, glaring at him once more. What an asshole, having the nerve to try and flirt after everything. "Don't play games with me, you bastard. I'm not one of your fangirls. You don’t get to whisper sweet nothin’s and expect to get away with it, you hear me?”

“I’m not playing games, Miss Hyuna. I genuinely miss us… I miss what we had.”

"Ya can't just waltz back into my life and expect things to be the same," she said, her voice quivering slightly.

Luka extended his hand, his touch unexpectedly tender as he cupped Hyuna’s cheek. “I know I’ve made mistakes, more than I can count. But here I am, darling, trying to make it right..” His thumb traced a soft line across her cheek, a gesture so familiar and yet new at the same time. For a fleeting second, Hyuna found herself yielding to the warmth of his touch, her resolve wavering. It was getting harder and harder to be angry with him.

Anakt, it was awful, the way he could sway her with a few words and a bit of touch. She knew damn well what was happening, that this was the very reason they kept going through this cycle. But she could never bring herself to stop it.

The tense moment was broken by a sudden knock on the door, followed by Dewey's voice. "Hyuna, you good in there? Heard voices."

Hyuna jerked away from Luka as if burned, the sudden intrusion of Dewey’s voice at the door snapping her back to reality. “I’m fine, Dewey! Just… talking to the walls, you know how it is,” she called out, forcing nonchalance or something resembling it.

She moved to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between herself and Luka as possible. His gaze lingered on her, loaded with an unreadable emotion that only added to her agitation.

As Dewey quickly agreed with her and walked off, Hyuna began to pace the perimeter of the room like a madman. Luka’s eyes watched her every. She bit at her nail, her body tight with tension, her mind racing with thoughts she dared not voice. The urge to lash out at Luka was overwhelming, but she bit back the scathing remarks teetering on the tip of her tongue. She knew all too well that throwing him out would only escalate the situation. The segyein were always looking for a reason to come down on her, and Luka, their prized victor, would make the perfect catalyst for her downfall.

“Luka,” Hyuna choked out, finally, after what must’ve been five minutes of awkward silence. “you know damn well we can’t do this. Not here, not now, never. After what ya pulled in the finals, I can’t trust you. Literally pushing that guy to his death?! You played it off as an accident, but I know you! You had a weird-ass look on your face as you approached him, and your elbow jutted out, and-- Anakt, how did anyone fall for that shit?!--“

“Because, Hyuna, no one else sees through me like you do.”

Hyuna whipped around to face him, jaw on the floor. “You… you actually… what?”

“Yes, I admit it. It was no accident, though I prefer to call it insurance for my victory.” Luka’s voice was chillingly calm as he stood up and closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate. Hyuna’s breath hitched, her body instinctively recoiling, but she was rooted to the spot. As his hand reached out, brushing through her hair with a disgusting tenderness, a shiver ran down her spine. “I pushed him off the ledge. I knew I had solid rapport with the segyein, and they wouldn’t think twice about the chain of events. Why, one of them even said that it was delighted with me for getting him out of the competition. You know well how much of a pain he was. He was not victor material. And neither are you…”

The room felt colder, the air heavier. Hyuna’s mind raced, grappling with the revelation. Her first instinct screamed at her to lash out, to confront him with the full force of her rage. Yet, fear and shock stifled her, muffling her voice to a choked laugh, one that sounded hollow even to her ears. “… well, at least you’re being honest for once, huh? That’s rare for you, nowadays…” Her words were laced with sarcasm, but her voice quivered nonetheless.

Luka tilted his head, scrutinizing Hyuna's reaction. "You seem calmer than I expected.”

Hyuna let out a long sigh, sinking down to sit on the edge of her bed once more. "Oh, I'm pissed as all hell. But not surprised. I always knew you had it in ya to pull some underhanded shit like that." She shook her head, a bitter smile crossing her face. "I just didn't think you'd take it that far. Guess you really have changed."

"It was necessary for my success," Luka replied matter-of-factly. He sat down next to Hyuna, tentatively snaking an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened, but didn't pull away. “I’m now in a position of favor, Hyuna. Think about it — they’ll treat me better, and naturally, I’ll ensure you’re taken care of too. Our lives, they’re about to change for the better. You’ll see, it’s all going to work out in our favor.”

Hyuna turned to look at him incredulously, her face turning the slightest bit red. From anger or embarrassment, she had no clue. "Our lives? I want nothin’ to do with your success, Luka. Especially when I know you’d throw me under the bus if it helped ya. Or should I say, under the stage light?!”

Luka's confident expression faltered. He brushed a strand of hair away from Hyuna's face, his voice softening. "You know that's not true, darling. I had nothing to do with your accident.”

"Don't lie to me! You've always been obsessed with fame, you don’t give a shit about me, deep down.” Her voice broke as she gestured down at her prosthetic leg. “Look what you did. That had to have been your fault.”

"That was not me. I haven’t any control over the stage lights."

“Really?! Or did you sabotage it like everything else so that I couldn't beat you?"

Wordlessly, he shifted closer, reaching for her hands, but Hyuna backed away until her back hit the wooden headboard.

"I don't know anymore," Hyuna said bitterly. "Just leave me alone. I don’t wanna talk about this."

Hyuna pressed the release button on her prosthetic leg at the knee joint, disengaging the lock. She gently slid the prosthetic off her thigh, setting it next to the bed. All the while, Luka tried to whisper more sweet nothings in order to change her mind, but she pretended like he wasn’t even there.

With a huff, she threw her covers over her head and laid her head on her pillow; a clear dismissal. If he didn’t get the idea from this, he was hopeless.

She waited for Luka to leave, but instead, he quietly lifted the edge of the comforter and peered in. Hyuna curled up into a ball, pray

Despite Hyuna's closed off body language, Luka crawled into the bed beside her, encircling her waist with his arm. As he curled against Hyuna's back, she tensed, conflicting emotions rising up. His familiar touch, though cold, brought back memories - both sweet and painful.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hyuna said through gritted teeth.

"Nothing,” Luka mumbled, pulling her closer and hiding his face in the nape of her neck.

Hyuna drew in a shaky breath, resentment warring with lingering affection. Silently she covered his hand with her own, not pushing him away or pulling him closer. They lay in silence as the minutes ticked by, bodies entwined, her thumb slowly stroking over his knuckles. Hyuna slowly relaxed in his arms, leaning back into his touch.

“I can’t believe I’m lettin’ ya do this.”

“I can. I know you’ve missed me just as much as I’ve missed you.”

“Shut up. I like you better when you’re quiet.” Hyuna snapped.

Luka lightly chuckled, tightening his grip on Hyuna. At least he had the decency to be silent.

But Hyuna still wasn't having any of that. She pushed him off, a glint of defiance in her eyes. Luka's lip curled in a fleeting show of disappointment, but before he could react, she flipped him over and spooned him instead. "Big spoon? Ha, as if. You're in my world now, Luka," she said. Poking his cheek, she couldn't help but snicker at the warmth of his flush. "Aw, are you blushing? Cute. Don’t even try to complain about being little spoon — You begged to be here, remember? My bed, my rules."

“I’m sure we look absolutely ridiculous right now.” Luka muttered. “Since I should be big spoon and all…”

“Why? I’m taller. I’d argue this looks better!”

Luka huffed, but not once had he attempted to tear himself away from her touch. Hyuna smirked against his shoulder, closing her eyes. This was far more comfortable than she’d ever like to admit…

The good thing was that, by the next day, she was sure that they’d both be denying that this ever happened. Maybe that was for the better. But for now, she’d let herself enjoy the moment, regardless of how traitorous it was.

[abysswalkersknight]

Found this one in my drafts so added it into my list.

Fair warning this really made me sad and I'm the damn author. But this was inspired by the death of the hydro archon in genshin impact and some amazing theories I saw about the knight of dawn. So either way enjoy and tell me what you think!

......................

The castle was quiet.

Everyone had been evacuated due to the coming battle. 

Everyone except a few loyal servants and the royal couple.

The knight of dawn sits upon the steps before the empty throne, it has been empty for some time, neglected by the dragon princess regrettably slain by his own two hands. In his arms lay a sleeping newborn babe just barely a few days old, with silken golden hair like his own and boisterous lungs to match his mother’s. His son rests peacefully, oblivious to the heavy stillness that plagues this dark castle, absent of life and light as the torches had been left cold, the knight draws a soft finger across his son’s cheek.

I wonder how he’ll look in ten years. His beloved, Leia jokingly believed that their baby shall grow to be the spitting image of his father, he dearly hoped not; call him vain but he was well aware of his fine features. And the troubles that came with it. The infatuation of others are not something he’d wish upon anyone.   

It was nice out here, in the blissful silence. For once the knight was free from all worries and troubles, free from all the heavy expectations, free from the thought of what’s to come. Here, it was just him and his child.

The calm before the storm. His mind supplies unhelpfully, the knight’s content smile falls and he sighs through his nose. Yes, it all floods back to him why exactly the castle is as it is, their enemy comes at the ready to rid them off the map, and he’s to hold them off as best he can so that everyone else can run to safety. Thus that thankfully includes his wife and son.

Personally he was worried that Henrik would deny them sanctuary, with the birth of the knight’s son there was a new heir that could challenge him for the throne, and the knight  knew full well how greedy for power Henrik was, knew that he now saw the knight as a broken tool the day he married his beloved.

He knew that this night would also be his last, the odds were too high in their enemy's favour and he was too weak from the endless battles prior, perhaps this was simply another reason why Henrik thought to have him lead the charge, what better way to be rid of a brittle blade than to use it up until it shatters to smithereens?

All he could do was fight long enough so that his family was safe, and by the seven he will fight till his sword can no longer stay in his grasp. Fighting’s all you're good for anyways.

He’s heard what the three great fairies plan to do to keep his son safe, and he is thankful for their help, but a selfish part of him only wishes for another way, to keep his son from a long, unbearably lonely slumber. He’s only agreed for the promise of his boy living a happy, peaceful life with someone who will truly love the child as he surely does, one devoid of the pain and sorrows of war. 

A world in a time of peace, what a pleasant thought. He’d only wish that he’d get to experience it with his family, but if his son gets to live through such a life then he shall be content with that. I wonder what you’ll do when you're older, will he carry a sword like his father? Or perhaps have a more quiet hobby? Will he make any friends? Someone who he can compete with, to help each other reach new heights? What will his favourite food be? Will he have an affinity for animals as well? The knight wasn’t sure about blessings being inherited but he'd love to see what becomes of it. He lifts his child up to his cheek, one of the only places deprived of glistening cold silver, breathing in the milky scent that all infants had, and felt his heart twist painfully as eyes beautiful as the rising dawn slowly blink up at him.

He’d love to see who this tiny little babe becomes, even if only for a moment…

Oh! Birds and other wildlife seem to have flocked down to one of the windows, as silent as possible as to not startle the infant, just watching them. The knight knew why they were there, they were there to say farewell, among them were the families of various animal friends he’s made in the past, of the ones who helped care for him when he was young. He stands up with his baby in his arms and goes to greet his old friends, the smallest of the birds gather round the babe’s blanket while a deer sniffed at his golden hair. Sweet giggles fill the room and as the knight smiles fondly at the scene he almost fails to notice a strange new arrival.

Time seemed to slow, for squeaking pleasantly to the child from above on the window sill, was a tiny bat. It was so peculiar, normally they preferred to keep to themselves. Usually the knight was not one who typically believed in signs or omens, but something about this bat stirred something in his chest, and he suddenly recalled that day when he was thrown into the waterways, of that fae who held the princess’s egg with such tenderness, the bat is now nuzzling his babe with a similar softness and he too reaches out a finger to stroke it’s fur, which it didn’t take too kindly to, snapping at his hand with such an insulted look upon its face that the knight nearly laughed, somehow the look reminded him of the tales told of the general of the right, its with this thought that he wonders if the general had made it to safety that day. If my guess is right he may as well have, he thought once the bat finally let him scritch under its chin, he knew deep in his heart that if it was to be fated then he could think of no one better to take care of his child despite their being enemies. 

I wonder what name he’ll give you.

Beyond the horizon the knight could faintly see the first rays of dawn stretching across the pinkening sky. 

Ah, it appears our time together is coming to a close. 

While he knew what was to come, faced with death he still found himself a little afraid. Was this what the Princess felt when she had to leave her egg? He thinks feeling his breath stutter and fingers curl tighter around his bundle.

He presses one final gentle kiss to the babe’s forehead. I apologise for leaving you like this my son, he tucks his treasured ring around the boy’s neck, please forgive your fool of a father.

The hour of his execution is almost here.

In a way this felt deserving, it was just like that day, leaving slashed bodies in his wake, the glare of dawn beating down upon rivers of red and iron. Only this time he knew full well what he was fighting for.

I pray that he won’t become what I was.

His strength wanes, his helmet laid cracked and caved in on the floor like scrap metal, leaving his determination visible to all.

My dearest little one.

Should you ever raise a sword like I.

The morning sun gazes down upon the knight, upon the gleaming sword painted a lustrous crimson in his chest, his failing vision fixed on the beautiful briar crawling along the castle, he gives one last smile for his sleeping son.

I pray that you will carry it with pride and for a life you truly strive for.