#if i do it more than a few seconds ill just faint

[caffeinatedopossum]

My constant physical state lately has been like what I assume a healthy person feels doing intense exercise

Like 24/7 just so fucking tired, out of breath, heart is racing, muscles are all sore. Then some other stuff like dizziness, blacking out, and loss of balance/coordination that maybe normal people don't experience from working out unless they really over do it

Add to all of that my other symptoms like joint pain in all my fucking joints and migraines and I'm really not sure how I'm alive some days

[fandoms-x-reader]

MC Faints

Requested By: @space-dragon-ace

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers (individually) react to MC who faints. Word Count: 4,146

This time of year had been the most stressful for you.

The brothers were always fighting for your attention, so you rarely had time for yourself. 

You felt like the second you got home from RAD you were being pulled left and right by one brother or another.

And while you appreciated that they wanted to hang out with you, exams were coming up and as an exchange student, there was an immense amount of pressure on you to do good.

And since you were under that pressure, you had to find time to make sure you were studying.

Which unfortunately meant cutting into your sleep schedule.

You were overworked and exhausted and the only thing that was keeping you upright was the anxiety of knowing that the exams were in the next few days.

Lucifer was a very overworked person himself. So, he had a hard time noticing when someone was struggling to keep up with their workload.

It’s not that he couldn’t pick up on the signs of your exhaustion, it’s just between student council business and keeping his brothers out of trouble, he didn’t really have time to look for those signs.

So, when you fainted in the middle of a student council meeting, he was more surprised than anything.

You had been standing there, looking just as you usually did with no noticeable signs of distress.

And then the next second you were on the ground with his brothers surrounding you.

After the initial shock, Lucifer began thinking of reasons as to why you may have fainted and that’s when all of the little signals suddenly became clear to him.

It’s as if they were bright neon signs that stated you were overtired and ready to collapse.

And Lucifer suddenly became very protective of you, telling his brothers to give you space before whisking you away to the House of Lamentation where he could properly take care of you.

Lucifer held your hand the entire time you were asleep, gently touching his other hand to your forehead occasionally to make sure you weren’t running a fever or anything like that.

When you finally woke up, Lucifer gave you a small smile, apologizing to you for not noticing the signs of your suffering earlier.

“It’s not your fault, Lucifer,” you reassured him before adding, “I just need to do a better job of managing my time.”

Lucifer planned on helping with that.

He already planned to have a long talk with his brothers about respecting your time so that you didn’t have to sacrifice your own health just to keep up with your grades.

On top of that, Lucifer invited you to his room after school much more often. 

He claimed that it was to help make sure you were staying relaxed, but in reality, he needed a break just as much as you did.

And you were the only thing that helped him relax. 

Demons didn’t get sick the same way that humans did.

That was one thing you had come to learn during your time in the Devildom.

They didn’t have a flu season and they didn’t get shots to stave off illness.

So when you started feeling sick, you didn’t think to mention it to the brothers.

After all, you were sure it would only end in a very long conversation consisting of you trying to explain your sickness while they bombarded you with a hundred questions.

You did your best to hide how awful you were really feeling, wearing a smile and doing your best to not look shaky or pale.

And it seemed to work because the brothers were as persistent as ever about spending time with you - especially Mammon.

And you loved spending time with Mammon. You thought it was adorable how he always fought for your attention.

But, today, you were hoping that he would get tired of going out and doing things and let you return to the House of Lamentation.

You would be fine even if he wanted to watch a movie with you at home. Then, if you fell asleep, you could just say you were really tired. It’s not like Mammon would be mad at you for very long anyway.

But, of course, when you were feeling very under the weather,+

Mammon decided he had a full day planned for the two of you.

From shopping to watching him do a photo shoot to trying out new restaurants - Mammon just wanted to spend the whole day together.

You did your best to keep up - to act like nothing was wrong.

But at the end of the day your ailment caught up to you and as you were standing next to Mammon at the casino, you felt incredibly lightheaded.

“I think I’m going to go sit down for a moment,” you told Mammon and he gave you a small frown.

“But, I’m about to win the jackpot!” Mammon argued and you once again smiled at him, agreeing to stay.

Moments later, Mammon did win the jackpot. He let out a victorious laugh and turned to celebrate with you only to find you collapsing into his arms.

His celebration was cut short as he was now freaking out trying to get you to wake up and gently brushing your hair out of your face as tears threatened to form in his eyes.

He rushed you back to the House of Lamentation and after Lucifer and Satan looked over you, they determined you had just fainted from being sick.

They gave Mammon some medicine to give to you when you woke up and then left.

Mammon stayed by your side the entire time and he felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders when you finally opened your eyes.

His lips were turned down into a frown as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our day together,” you replied and it only made Mammon more sad as he pulled you into a hug.

“I thought you died,” he admitted, his arms tightening around you, and you could see how affected he was by seeing you faint.

“I’m sorry, but I’m okay. It’s just a cold,” you told him and although he was satisfied with your answer, he wasn’t letting you go from his arms.

He needed to hold you there for a little while longer, just as some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Levi was absolutely determined to finish the new game that he had bought.

It was a two-player game that he specifically purchased because he thought you would enjoy playing it with him.

Which meant that you were being dragged along for the ride whether you wanted to or not.

Levi wanted to finish the game as quickly as possible so that he could be the first person to review it and in order to do so, he had you pull two all-nighters back to back.

You were exhausted and ready to call it quits, but Levi was very convincing when he wanted to be. 

He knew all of the right bribes to offer you to keep you awake and playing.

On top of that, you were genuinely happy to be spending time with Levi.

But as the alarm clock rang after the second all-nighter that happiness you were feeling was overtaken by your exhaustion. 

You let out a groan as you sat down your controller, looking at the clock in Levi’s room as if it betrayed you by signaling it was time to get ready for school.

You and Levi still hadn’t finished the game and you couldn’t help but stare off into space with dread as you realized that meant that you would be in Levi’s room again after school today trying to finish it.

And no amount of caffeine would help you survive a third all-nighter in a row.

You didn’t say anything to Levi as you left his bedroom to get ready for school. In fact, you didn’t say anything to any of the brothers all day.

You weren’t trying to be rude, you were just too tired to care.

It wasn’t until you fainted at lunch that they realized something was genuinely wrong.

They all clamored over to you as you went down in the middle of the room, the other students whispering and asking what happened.

The scene caused quite the commotion which led to Diavolo finding out quickly. 

 As you rested in the infirmary, Diavolo questioned the brothers about what could have caused you to collapse.

Lucifer turned to Levi, claiming that he had been spending the most time with you lately.

Diavolo asked Levi if he noticed you feeling unwell and Levi innocently told him you looked like you were fine during your two all-nighters together.

“Wait - did you say that they hadn’t slept in two straight days?” Diavolo questioned and all of the brothers looked at Levi incredulously. 

Levi’s words suddenly registered in his own mind as he realized that he was the reason you fainted.

He immediately started panicking as his mind tried to come up with ways to make it up to you.

And as if his guilt wasn’t punishment enough, he had to endure a multiple-hour-long lecture from Lucifer about the importance of sleep for humans. 

Levi was afraid to face you the next time you saw him. He was afraid that you would hate him for forcing you to stay awake with him.

You reassured him that you had fun playing the game with him.

“Next time, maybe just let me get a couple hours of sleep in,” you teased and a blush rushed to his cheeks as he nodded his head.

Levi was really happy that you still wanted to play games with him despite what happened and he made a promise to himself to prioritize your health over the game from now on.

Between his brothers and the busy life of being a member of the student council, you and Satan didn’t get a whole lot of free time to spend together.

So, when the opportunity did present itself where Satan was able to steal you away, the two of you liked to take advantage of it.

There was an outdoor festival happening up in the human world and Satan wanted to take you to it.

He knew that it had been a while since you visited and the festival had an overall theme that he knew you would both enjoy.

You were ecstatic when he asked you to go with him and the two of you left almost immediately after.

The festival was absolutely gorgeous and it was full of things that you and Satan could do together.

You shared the cuisines, you bought souvenirs, and you even participated in some of the side activities they offered.

And while you were enjoying your time with Satan, there was one problem - the heat.

The Devildom had no sun to shine brightly or warm the weather so you had grown accustomed to the weather there.

But in the human world, the sun was at large, beating down on you.

You hadn’t prepared for it to be so hot and were starting to feel light-headed.

Satan was usually so attentive and would recognize something was off the second that you started to not feel good.

But, he was so distracted by everything else going on that he didn’t notice.

He was like a kid in the candy shop, holding your hand as he dragged you from stall to stall.

He was talking to a vendor about a necklace they had when you felt like your head was starting to spin.

Satan turned to ask your opinion on the piece of jewelry with full intentions of buying it for you.

But, when he faced you, he saw how flushed your complexion was.

He barely had time to react before you were collapsing.

The necklace was long forgotten as Satan easily caught you in his arms.

He immediately went into doctor mode, doing his best to recall everything he had learned about humans.

His mind was racing with possible reasons as to why you could have fainted. The possibilities seemed endless.

Until he placed his hand on your forehead and noticed that you felt hot to the touch.

And it was like everything had clicked into place as he was suddenly rushing you back to the House of Lamentation.

He laid you in his bed because he figured it would be easier to take care of you there since the other brothers wouldn’t barge in.

When you woke up, it took you a moment to figure out where you were and what happened but a deep blush coated your cheeks as you began to comprehend the situation.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date,” you stated, refusing to look at Satan.

He immediately leaned forward and cupped your cheeks before tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

“You didn’t ruin our date. I still had a great time - did you?” Satan questioned and you nodded your head.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before telling you, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

You leaned into his touch and he pulled you into his arms, attempting to calm his heart rate that had been racing since your first collapsed.

As calm and composed as he remained, Satan had been so scared when you fainted and now he was going to keep you in his arms for however long it took to convince himself that you were okay.

You were heading home after school when Asmo suddenly approached you.

He had such a happy smile on his face when he saw you and you could hear the excitement in his voice.

Asmo had been invited to a special event that night and he asked if you would be his plus one.

You could see the jealous looks you were getting from miscellaneous other people as Asmo stood before you with a hopeful look.

When you agreed to go, Asmo let out a happy noise of excitement before taking your hand and leading you into town.

The two of you needed to start getting ready right away!

He wanted the two of you to have matching outfits so he took you to Majolish to get new ones.

The two of you spent a while there trying on different outfits, attempting to find matching ones that fit both your and Asmo’s styles.

And you had finally found an outfit that had a mix of both. 

There was just one problem - it had a corset. And in true corset fashion, it was quite restricting. 

Asmo was dying over the way you looked in that outfit, giving you compliment after compliment and looking so happy while doing it.

You didn’t tell him about the corset being too tight, instead agreeing to buy it.

The event would only be for a little while, so you figured it would be fine. All you had to do was last until the end of the event.

And you had managed to do just that, albeit with a bit of a struggle.

You felt like the corset was somehow getting tighter and tighter as the night went on and you were starting to feel short of breath and hot. 

Asmo could see that you weren’t feeling one hundred percent, so he suggested that the two of you head back to the House of Lamentation.

Though, he didn’t understand why you weren’t feeling well. Did you have something to drink when he wasn’t looking?

The two of you barely made it to the House of Lamentation when everything went black and you fell to the ground.

Asmo panicked immediately, shouting for Lucifer to come outside and help you as his hands shakily held your head, not knowing what to do.

When Lucifer inspected the scene in front of him, he noticed the corset and demanded Asmo take it off.

Lucifer was so sure that the article of clothing was the cause of your fainting so Asmo quickly rushed you to your bedroom and took the corset off you, staring intensely at your face as he waited for something to happen.

You woke up shortly after and Asmo let out a loud sigh of relief as he pulled you into his arms, blinking past the tears that had formed in his eyes.

He stroked your hair as you took deep breaths, the feeling of your lungs expanding fully was something that felt strangely nice.

“If the outfit was too tight, we could have gotten you something else,” Asmo told you softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to look good for your event,” you replied and Asmo pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and look you in the eyes.

“You look perfect in everything. You didn’t have to suffer all night - I wanted you to have a good time,” Asmo replied.

“I did have a good time, Asmo,” you reassured him and he pulled you back into his arms.

“Just don’t ever do that again,” he said quietly as he tried to push the image of you fainting out of his mind.

You were running late to breakfast and the brothers had noticed that his had been a recurring thing with you lately.

The day before, you were late for breakfast because you overslept after staying up all night studying.

And then you were also late to dinner later that day after Solomon unexpectedly asked for your help with something.

And today you had sent them all a message letting them know you would be late to breakfast due to a shower mishap.

Asmo attempted to ask you to explain in further detail, but the others didn’t press the subject.

They knew that you would be a little late, but it was only a few minutes until everyone had to leave to make it to RAD on time.

Beel had been staring at your plate of food the entire time, doing his best to restrain himself. 

He knew that after missing both breakfast and dinner yesterday you would be hungry. But, if you weren’t going to eat it, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

After waiting a couple more minutes, Lucifer let out a small sigh before allowing Beel to eat your food.

Just then, you came bounding into the dining room with a look of shock on your face as you watched Beel gobble up your food in one bite.

“Hey, that was mine,” you said with a small pout and Beel looked like a deer in headlights as he sat your plate down.

“You were late,” Lucifer retorted before adding, “Time to go.”

You had a small frown the entire way to RAD and Beel felt guilty every time he heard your stomach rumble.

He was determined to make it up to you by getting you extra food at lunch.

But your hunger was starting to really get to you and by the second class you were starting to feel lightheaded.

You tried not to act any differently but you could feel Beel’s eyes on you during the class and it was only adding to the myriad of things you were feeling right now.

You felt overwhelmed by everything and as soon as the bell rang signally class was over, you stood up - only to fall right back down.

Beel managed to get to you just in time to catch you, but he started panicking when he saw that you were unconscious. 

He immediately lifted you off the ground and carried you to the school infirmary. 

The guilt he was feeling now was eating him alive. He knew that you had fainted because you were hungry.

If only he had a little more self-control and didn’t eat your food then maybe you wouldn’t have fainted.

When you woke up, you were immediately met with Beel’s concerned eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Beel asked you and you sat up slightly as you realized what had happened. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, though he suspected that wasn’t one hundred percent true.

You looked around the room and noticed Beel had bought a ton of snacks and drinks and laid them out on the bed next to you.

As soon as he deemed you were okay enough, he handed you snack after snack and apologized profusely for eating your food.

He would make sure you never fainted from hunger again. 

You and Belphie shared such romantic moments sometimes.

Other times, he acted like such a brat.

It seemed like one of Belphie’s favorite things to do was to mess with you. Especially when he was feeling particularly testy.

Lucifer woke him up from his nap? I guess that means you wanted to pick a fight with him too so now he’s relentlessly trying to wrestle and tickle you.

Beel decided to eat his food that morning? Well, then you don’t get to eat either. But, you don’t mind, right?

And you would always retaliate which would end up leading to a war between you.

And both of you refused to back down.

In fact, sometimes it got to the point where the other brothers avoided the two of you, afraid of being collateral damage.

You wanted something to drink in the middle of the night, so you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed your favorite from the fridge.

You poured yourself a cup and sipped it quietly, immediately regretting it as you did so.

The taste was awful and you could hear Belphie’s snickering somewhere nearby.

You swallowed the drink and glared at the entrance to the kitchen as Belphie entered, holding his sides from laughing.

Why was he only awake at the most inconvenient times?

You decided to make Belphie pay for his actions.

“Belphie - did you put something in this?” you asked him, holding a hand to your stomach as if you were about to be sick.

“You should see your face right now,” he replied, continuing to laugh.

You placed one hand on your head and started fanning yourself with your other hand.

“Okay, but you made sure it was safe for humans, right?” you asked him and Belphie paused. You were just pulling his leg, right?

You took a few strained breaths before asking him, “Is it really hot in here?”

Belphie’s expression had turned from one of amusement to one of slight panic as he watched you, trying to figure out if you were lying or not.

He was positive what he put in your drink wouldn’t harm you, but he didn’t exactly look it up to check.

Belphie’s eyes were wide and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as you collapsed to the ground.

He was panicking as flashbacks of what once happened between the two of you overwhelmed his mind.

Did he just kill you? Again?

He felt like he was starting to have a panic attack as Beel suddenly entered the kitchen.

“Belphie?” he questioned, not expecting his twin to be there. He was just trying to get his midnight snack.

“Beel - I think I…,” Belphie stated, frozen in shock.

Beel’s eyes widened as he saw your body on the ground and he immediately rushed over to you, placing his fingers on your neck to check for a pulse just like Satan had taught him.

When you could feel Beel’s shaky hands, you knew the prank might have gone a little too far and you gently grabbed his wrist and opened your eyes.

Beel and Belphie looked at you confused for a moment and then Belphie realized what happened.

He gave you the biggest death glare and you noticed the tears that had started to form in his eyes.

“Belphie-,” you began but he stormed off to sulk in the attic. You followed him, only to find the door shut. 

“Belphie, come on let me in,” you told him. You could see him lying on the bed, turned away from you.

“I opened this door once before, I’ll do it again if I really have to,” you added.

Belphie let out a sigh of frustration before getting up and opening the door.

You immediately pulled him into a hug as he did, wrapping your arms around his torso and his arms timidly wrapped around you as well.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, genuinely feeling bad for taking things so far.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he stated, hugging you tighter before pulling you over to the bed with him.

Your punishment was to spend the night with him so that you were there whenever he needed some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Despite his pranks and brattiness, Belphie really loved you and he couldn’t imagine what he would do without you.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - A Dance of Ambition

Summary - A fierce young woman meets a brooding Targaryen prince who defies expectations. As tension crackles between them—both verbal and unspoken—she discovers they may be more alike than she thought.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x Harroway reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2600

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

My father's voice was soft as I ran the brush through my hair. "Please, be kind. He's a prince... a Targaryen prince, to be precise."

I set the brush down, smoothing the fabric of my dress as I turned to face him. "That means nothing to me," I replied, adjusting the neckline with a flick of my wrist.

"Please, my love. Just this once, try not to be so... brash," he murmured, almost swallowing his words, and I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from my chest.

"Father, you speak as if I have no manners at all," I said with a teasing smile, watching the weariness deepen the lines on his face as he sighed.

"You know what I mean," he relented, his shoulders slumping. I exhaled, stepping closer to wrap my arms around his neck.

"Do not worry, I will be on my best behaviour," I assured him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. I glanced at my reflection one more time, the smirk already forming on my lips.

"And that's exactly what worries me," he muttered under his breath, leaving the room without another word.

Since my mother's passing, my father had treated me as though I were his entire world. I was his only child, and in the wake of losing his great love, he never remarried.

I had become a living reminder of the woman he adored, a memory he clung to, coddling me like a fragile thing.

People whispered behind our backs, blaming him for my haughty behaviour, for my sharp tongue and indifference to the opinions of others. But their gossip didn't bother me.

I knew how deeply he loved me, and I wore that truth like armour.

This meeting with the prince—this potential match—was one of the few prospects my father deemed worthy of his precious daughter.

If he had gone to such lengths to arrange it, the least I could do was ensure that the prince, and his family, were as perfect as they claimed.

The grand hall of the Keep was as intimidating as I'd imagined. Its vaulted ceilings and towering columns stretched endlessly, and the air was thick with the weight of history and power.

My father walked beside me, his arm linked with mine as if to steady me, though we both knew it was his nerves that needed calming.

His grip tightened slightly as we neared the dais, where Prince Aemond awaited us, his figure tall and composed in black and silver.

"Remember, be courteous," my father whispered, though his voice trembled slightly. "Please."

I offered him a brief smile, more for his benefit than anything else. "Of course, Father. Always."

Aemond stood with the poise of a warrior and the air of royalty, his lone eye fixed upon me with an intensity that sent a thrill through the room. His other eye, hidden beneath a leather patch, gave him an ominous air, one that might have unsettled others.

But I had never been easily cowed.

Beside him, Queen Alicent watched carefully, her expression unreadable, while King Viserys, though weakened by age and illness, managed a welcoming smile.

"Lord Harroway," the king greeted my father warmly. "And this must be your daughter."

"Yes, Your Grace," my father replied, bowing low. "My daughter, Lady—"

I stepped forward before my father could finish, interrupting him without a second thought.

"I am Lady Harroway," I said, my voice cool and clear. I curtsied, but only just enough to avoid outright insult. I did not lower my head. "It is an honour, Your Grace."

My father tensed beside me, but I ignored the faint hiss of his breath.

The Queen exchanged a quick glance with Aemond, whose face remained impassive, though his eye did flicker with the slightest hint of interest.

His lips curled ever so faintly—not quite a smile, but something close. Something unreadable.

"We are pleased to meet you, Lady Harroway," Aemond said at last, his voice smooth but carrying a weight that demanded attention.

"And I, you, Prince Aemond," I replied, meeting his gaze without flinching.

His eye gleamed like polished amethyst in the firelight, and I wondered how many lords and ladies had been made uneasy by that stare. I would not be one of them.

"Though I must admit, I was under the impression that princes of royal blood had more important matters than to be paraded before potential brides."

My father nearly choked. "My love—"

But Aemond raised a hand, silencing him without a word. "Perhaps," he said, stepping closer, his tone as unshaken as his expression.

"But sometimes, even a prince must take note of what is placed before him. Whether it is worth his time is another matter entirely."

I smirked, tilting my head slightly, meeting his challenge without hesitation.

"Well, I do hope I prove worthy of such precious time. Though, I must say, the decision lies as much with me as with you, my prince."

Aemond's lips quirked again, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like amusement flash behind his gaze.

He took a step toward me, close enough that I could feel the sheer force of his presence. His silence was deliberate, and I knew he was testing me.

Waiting for me to falter.

But I held his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Indeed, it does," Aemond finally said, his voice low, his eye still locked on mine. "And what is your impression, Lady Harroway?"

"I have yet to be impressed, Prince Aemond," I said, though I couldn't quite suppress the mischievous edge to my tone. "But I'm certain you'll do your best."

The Queen shifted slightly in her seat, a flicker of disapproval crossing her face, while my father's knuckles turned white from how tightly he gripped the hilt of his cane.

I could feel his anxiety radiating off him, but I didn't care. I was too absorbed in the game being played.

My father had spent years building this fragile bridge between our house and the Targaryens, and here I was, dangling it over the edge.

Yet, for all his efforts, for all the whispered warnings, I couldn't help but wonder if I was destined for something more than the life they envisioned for me.

Aemond's expression didn't change, but his eye gleamed with an unmistakable spark.

"It seems I have my work cut out for me," he said, inclining his head ever so slightly. "I look forward to the challenge."

"I'm sure you do," I replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

My father finally spoke, his voice strained as he tried to smooth over what he clearly feared was a disastrous first impression.

"Your Grace, my daughter... she means no offence. She is simply... spirited."

The Queen's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flicking toward her son as if trying to gauge his reaction. But Aemond's attention never wavered from me.

"No offence taken, Lord Harroway," he said smoothly. "I appreciate honesty. It is rare to find."

I arched an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his words but intrigued nonetheless. He was calm, far too calm for a prince who had just been openly challenged.

Most men would have been insulted or, at the very least, unnerved. But Aemond seemed... entertained.

"Honesty is a luxury some cannot afford," I said, testing the waters further. "But I've never been one to spare words for the sake of pleasing others."

Aemond's gaze sharpened. "Good. The world has enough liars."

For a moment, the air between us seemed to crackle with something unspoken, something that neither of us was willing to break first.

It was as if we were locked in a silent battle, each waiting for the other to make a move.

Finally, the Queen spoke, her voice cool but polite. "Lady Harroway, we hope you will find your time at court... enjoyable."

I smiled sweetly, though my words were edged with sarcasm. "I'm sure it will be most illuminating, Your Grace."

As we took our leave, my father's face was pale with barely suppressed anxiety.

The moment we were out of earshot, he let out a low groan. "What in the Seven Hells were you thinking?"

I glanced at him, still feeling the strange, electric sensation from my exchange with Aemond.

"I was thinking, Father, that perhaps a Targaryen prince isn't as infallible as you've made him out to be."

"You're going to ruin this," he muttered, running a hand through his greying hair. "The Queen was glaring at you—did you not see?"

"Oh, I saw," I said, unable to hide the smug smile that crept across my face. "But did you see Prince Aemond? He wasn't angry, Father. He was intrigued."

"And that," my father sighed, "is what worries me most."

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The night air in King's Landing was cool, a refreshing contrast to the heat that had lingered throughout the day.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the city, its quiet streets almost peaceful beneath the faint rustle of leaves and distant waves crashing against the shore.

I had never been one to stay confined for long, and tonight, the pull to escape the suffocating confines of the Keep had been too strong to resist.

I slipped out of my chambers with ease, the well-practised steps of stealth learned from years of dodging watchful eyes at my father's estate.

Wearing a simple dark cloak over my gown, I moved swiftly through the corridors, careful to avoid the guards who patrolled the castle.

The thrill of sneaking out, of defying expectations, made my pulse quicken.

My father would be furious if he knew, but that only made it all the more exhilarating.

The city below the Keep was alive in a way the castle could never be. While most of the nobles slept, commoners carried on their business, laughter and music spilling from taverns as the late-night revellers enjoyed their freedom.

But I wasn't interested in mingling with the crowds.

No, I wanted something more, something uncharted. The narrow alleys and hidden corners of King's Landing called to me, promising adventure.

As I wandered further into the maze of streets, my steps light and unhurried, I couldn't help but marvel at how different the city felt at night.

The oppressive weight of the court and its rigid rules seemed to lift, leaving behind a strange sense of liberation.

I had just turned into a quiet courtyard, the flickering lanterns casting long shadows across the cobblestones, when I sensed someone watching me.

My hand instinctively went to the small dagger I kept hidden beneath my cloak, a precaution that had become second nature.

"You know," came a voice, low and smooth from the darkness, "you really shouldn't be out here all alone."

I turned sharply, but I wasn't startled. I knew that voice.

Stepping from the shadows, Aemond emerged, his silver hair catching the moonlight, his lone eye gleaming with a hint of amusement.

He was dressed far more casually than I'd ever seen him—no heavy armour, no regal attire—just simple black leathers that clung to his form, emphasizing the quiet strength he carried so effortlessly.

My pulse quickened, but not from fear.

"I could say the same to you, Prince Aemond," I replied coolly, though a smile tugged at my lips. "Surely a Targaryen prince has more pressing matters than lurking in alleyways."

Aemond's eye flickered with amusement, though his face remained stoic as ever. "Lurking? Hardly. I was merely taking in the night air when I spotted something curious."

"Oh? And what curiosity might that be?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

His gaze lingered on me, the intensity of his stare making the air between us crackle with tension.

"A lady of your standing, sneaking through the city in the dead of night. Unchaperoned. One might think you were up to something."

I stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by the sharpness of his gaze. "And if I were? What would you do, Prince Aemond? Drag me back to the Keep? Lecture me on proper behaviour?"

He smiled then, just barely, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that was both infuriating and intriguing. "Oh, I doubt anything I say would influence you in the slightest, Lady Harroway."

"You'd be right," I quipped, folding my arms and leaning against the stone wall behind me. "I've never been one for lectures."

He took a step closer, his boots clicking softly against the cobblestones, his eye never leaving mine.

"Then tell me," he said, his voice low, "what is it that brings you out here, sneaking through the city like some common thief?"

I shrugged, unbothered by his scrutiny. "Curiosity, I suppose. Or perhaps boredom. The walls of the Keep are far too stifling for my liking."

"You find the court dull?" he asked, his tone mildly teasing.

I smirked. "I find the people tiresome. Everyone so careful, so poised, afraid to speak their mind. It's all rather exhausting."

"Careful," Aemond said softly, his voice almost a purr. "If you speak too openly, someone might take offence."

I tilted my head, meeting his challenge head-on. "Let them. I've never been afraid of speaking the truth."

Aemond's eye darkened with something unreadable, but there was no anger, no offence taken. Instead, he seemed almost... pleased.

"You're an intriguing one, Lady Harroway," he murmured, his tone more thoughtful now. "Most women at court would go to great lengths to charm me, to flatter and appease."

"Well," I said simply, my chin lifting slightly. "I've never been one for flattery."

He chuckled, a low, almost dangerous sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "That much is clear. You don't bend, do you?"

"Not for anyone," I replied, my voice steady despite the strange tension simmering between us.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching out as we stood there, mere paces apart, locked in a silent battle of wills. His gaze held mine, searching, testing, and I refused to look away.

I could feel the weight of his presence, the sharpness of his mind behind that calculating eye. He was not a man easily impressed, nor was he one to back down from a challenge.

But I wasn't either.

Finally, he stepped back, though his gaze never wavered. "You are a rarity, Lady Harroway."

"I prefer the term 'unique,'" I said, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

He inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgement. "Unique, then."

There was a pause, a strange sense of understanding passing between us in the quiet of the night.

We were two people who didn't fit the mould, who defied expectations in a world that demanded conformity. And in that moment, I sensed that Aemond understood that better than most.

"Will you return to the Keep?" he asked, his voice softer now.

I exhaled, my earlier defiance softening just a fraction. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'll wander a bit longer. The city has more to offer than courtly banter."

Aemond's lips quirked again, a rare hint of a smile. "I suspect it does."

We stood there for a moment longer, neither of us quite willing to be the first to leave. There was something unspoken between us, something simmering beneath the surface.

But neither of us would acknowledge it. Not yet.

Finally, Aemond broke the silence. "Until we meet again, Lady Harroway," he said, his tone formal but laced with something else—something deeper.

I smirked, my eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Oh, I'm sure we will, Prince Aemond."

With that, I turned, disappearing into the shadows of the city streets, the thrill of our exchange still buzzing in my veins.

I could feel his gaze on me as I walked away, a smile playing at my lips. He hadn't rattled me. In fact, I had the distinct feeling I had rattled him.

And that, I thought with satisfaction, was a victory in itself.

A/n - I gotta start writing some quiet reserved characters as well tbh 😭

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy @veesuguru

[serasheart]

Dreams ✭ Choso Kamo

Synopsis ღ on a windy night in Shibuya, you decide to stay over at a friends house. However, when you go to sleep, you’re met with a weird dream.

Warnings ღ smut, oral sex, male receiving female giving, vaginal sex, cream pie, porn with plot, somnophilia (kind of)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

"Thank you for letting me stay with you, Cho." You sigh as you fall back onto his couch, your eyes closing as your body relaxes into the soft leather.

"No worries, weather seems pretty bad, wouldn't want you to catch a cold." He states, tired figure slowly pouring the coffee into his signature mug before taking a sip.

"Yeah, that would suck." You laughed as your eyes open from their previous nothing, now staring at the man leaning on the kitchen counter.

He stares back at you in silence, your eyes meeting for what feels like an awkward amount of time before he tears his gaze from your own and clears his throat.

"I probably have a spare blanket somewhere in a storage closet." He mutters, straightening his posture as he begins to walk down his hallway, opening what seems to look like said storage closet before speaking up.

"Bingo." Reaching into the closet, he pulls out a fuzzy white blanket, a faint smile plastered across his face as he shows you proudly.

You chuckle a little at his childish demeanour before sitting up from the couch, he walks over towards his living room before passing you the blanket.

"Thanks." You speak, sitting the fuzzy fabric on your lap before looking over to the clock which read 11:32pm.

"Don't wanna keep you up, feel free to make yourself at home, I still have a few things I need to do before im off to bed anyways." He says, walking past you into a door that lead to the laundry room.

"Ill take you up on that offer." You replied, yawning a little and stretching as you did before laying down on the leather couch. it was comfortable and warm but your back would probably kill you in the morning with the way you were sleeping.

You spread the fuzzy blanket on you, kicking it over your figure to rest below your feet and ensure you're (for the most part) engulfed in the comfy warmth.

Choso gives you a hum in reply, nothing more, nothing less. You think nothing of it as your eyes begin to close and the stress of today sinks in, Immersing you into a deep, deep sleep.

You find yourself in what seems to be a dream, you rub your eyes and sit up a little before looking around. To your surprise, you’re in Choso’s apartment in the dream.

‘That’s weird.’

You thought to yourself before shaking your head, you try to get up before the sinking weight beside you catches your attention.

It’s only then that you realise you’re in a bed, Choso’s bed, to be exact. You’re quite surprised by this, your eyes widen as you stare down at the man who wore only a baggy white t shirt and boxers.

You tried not to think too much of it, because after-all, it was a dream. Nothing more than a dream, but curiosity took the best of you when you were lost in thought.

It’s almost as if for a second, you forget it’s a dream. Because you stare at him.

…

For a really long time, your eyes trail across his face and his features, his messy jett black hair clinging to his sweaty face as his plump, pale lips part ever so slightly.

‘Was he always this attractive?’

Something about his appearance to you was just… so enticing. As if it was welcoming you in, and your eyes ate up every last drop of it like it was candy.

The idea made you chew your lip a little, gaze narrowing as you continue to stare shamelessly before he rolled over, now facing you as his eyes remained closed.

You found a million thoughts running in your mind, the loudest voice telling you his lips looked so sof-

‘What the fuck?’ You violently shake your head, trying to rid yourself of such thoughts about a close friend, but still, you find your gaze lingering on his lips just a little longer.

Everything in you was telling you not to, that it would be weird, that you shouldn’t even have such thoughts about someone who had been so sweet to you, even in a dream!

But… you were curious. Very curious about what would happen if you were to try, afterall

It wouldn’t hurt, right?

That’s the only thing you managed to bring into thought before you pressed your soft lips onto his own, placing a heavy peck on the flesh before pulling back. Your face instantly reddens at the realisation.

‘Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod!’

You stare at him intently, the anxiety raising high in your chest as the guilt sinks into your stomach. You watch for any motion, any sign he’s awake. To your relief, nothing.

Your index comes up to graze your bottom lip ever so slightly, caressing the place in which once touched his own.

You don’t even know what came over you in the moment, one second you were staring at him and the next your lips were on his. Is something wrong with you? Why were you feeling this way?

Your ears perk up and bring you back into reality when you hear Choso groan, accompanied by a shuffle not too long after as he turns to lay flat on his back.

Freezing up, all you can do is stare down at him. Your heart beat is uncontrollably erratic, everything in your mind telling you you’ve just been caught, all for him to keep snoring away.

After a few moments pass by, your figure unfreezes. You don’t know what to do as you awkwardly and anxiously sit there, trying your hardest not to fumble around.

That’s before a wave of confidence rushes over you again.

All you can think about is how good his lips felt on yours; how you wanted to taste more of him.

It was stupid, and it was perverted. You leaned back in, anyways.

You embrace him in a kiss, lips pressing against eachother for just a few more seconds than they had before. It was a dream, afterall. Who cares if you got caught?

Bringing yourself back as your eyes hazily stared at his sleeping face, painted with something a little more than romance.

Faces just inches away from eachother before you went back in for more, the exchange more rough this time before an idea managed to pry itself into your head.

You lightly caress his face, just under his chin as you softly slip your tongue into his mouth. You pause for a moment, eyes opening as you stare down at him for a reaction just to be met with nothing.

You continue to slip past his lips and teeth, meeting his own tongue as your hand gently parts his jaw in order for you to gain more control.

A couple seconds go by as you continue your perverted act on the poor, sleeping man. Unbeknownst to him, you pull away a little, the only evidence of your departure being the string of saliva that connects you two.

Brought back from your daze, you sit up, trying to process what the fuck could’ve made you act that way to someone you thought of so closely. There was a little shame in your expression before you went to lay back down.

His bed was comfortable, a lot more comfortable than the couch, at-least. But I guess that’s a given. It was made for sleeping on.

Everything in this dream felt so unbelievably real, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it would’ve been reality.

For the past few years, you always had a slight crush on Choso, but you never acted on it because you know he wouldn’t consider the possibility of a relationship. He found it hard to understand the concept of friendship alone.

Overtime, it was washed away with your messy love life and all the douchebags you dated. Choso never liked any of them, anyways.

You guess your feelings for him never truly ceased since in the moment you were unable to stop yourself from having your flesh on his. You can’t help but feel bad for doing that to the unconscious man, even if you know it was a dream, it was wrong.

You glance over at him, his eyes still shut softly as you sighed. You could only make the most of such a dream before you woke up.

You sit up a little, leaning in softly this time and pressing another kiss onto his lips. By this point, any anxiety you had felt about him waking up and seeing you do that was long past.

Staring down at his face, you search for his expression. He looked so peaceful sleeping, even if this, too, was only a dream.

You didn’t think much before you leaned in again, cupping the man’s face as you kiss him, more deeply this time.

The passionate kiss quickly turned to you craving his taste once more, the idea shamefully plastered in your head and getting more tempting by the second even though the guilt you felt had been overwhelming.

You ultimately decided fuck it, leaning in and slipping your tongue back into his mouth as you messily entangle it with his own, the gesture deep.

Saliva drips down from your mouth but you’re too far to care by this point, hands still caressing his face, just a little roughly this time.

Choso groans into your mouth, his eyes opening a little in the moment and your heart stops.

Your world dissipates, the breath catching in your lungs as his eyes manage to open fully before they widened, you could feel his heartbeat speed up at the situation before you pull away.

‘Just a Dream, just a Dream, just a Dream, just a Dream.’ You chanted to yourself, yet the feeling of being caught scared you half to death.

You quickly pulled away, wiping your mouth, but of course that’s not gonna save you the humiliation. You sit there, not saying anything as he just stares at you, quickly sitting up.

After a few seconds of silence goes by, you begin to speak, attempting to apologise.

“I’m sorry cho- Choso. I don’t know what I was doi-“ He swallows, hard. His eyes were elsewhere, the obvious tent in his boxers so painfully hard.

You pause for a second, everything was just so shocking to you as you try to process what’s going on. It was supposed to be innocent, and he wasn’t supposed to wake up. Even if this was a dream, you were scared as shit.

He clears his throat, his croaky, tired voice speaks up,

“I-… It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to explain yourself.” He says, almost breathlessly. He too, is still trying to process what just happened.

You seemed to have notice the tent in his boxers aswell, because your eyes were gazing the exact same way his were. He lifts his head a little, staring at you before his face reddens. He doesn’t know why; but he feels exposed like this.

“I-i’m really sorry, Choso. It wasn’t supposed to-“ He grunts, the sound of his name slipping past your lips after he caught you doing such a dirty thing whilst he was sleeping made him shake a little.

He coughs. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go deal with this and we can pretend like it didn’t happen.” He states firmly, he goes to sit up before you grab his wrist.

“Wait!”

“I can help you..?”

He stares down at you, a shocked expression on his face before the flush from before quickly spreads itself upon his pale complexion.

Unfortunately, the suggestion only went straight to his dick. It throbs against the thin fabric in response, his heart was racing so fast.

He shakes his head a little, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He tries to speak up, his voice cracking a little:

“N-no. Wouldn’t that be… weird?”

You shake your head, eyes coming to meet his own as he stares down at you with such a lust stricken gaze. He was scared of being informal, scared of being more.

He hesitantly agrees, sitting back down on the bed before he stares at you in anticipation. You guys sit there for a minute before you clear your throat

“I could… use my mouth?” You suggest, innocently to the poor man whose heart was beating so fast he thought he might have a heart attack.

“I- uhm. Okay.” Is all he manages to get out, his deep voice echoes in your ears as you manage to finally get a reply out of him.

“Okay.” You smile, a little bit more eased into the situation as you stared up at him, his eyes meeting yours.

Even though this supposedly wasn’t reality and was just a dream, his reactions seemed very like Choso.

“Just relax, it’s gonna feel good more than it’s gonna hurt.” You say to the innocent man, your fingers lacing with the hem of his boxers before pulling them down slowly.

Choso grunts a little as the cold air brushed along his now exposed length. You took a moment to soak the details in, biting your lip a little.

He was uncircumcised, trimmed pretty cleanly but unkempt in a way, very girthy and had a lot of prominent veins, also while maintaining a good length.

It was pale, just as his skin, but the tip was a light pink.

You don’t know why, but the only thing you thought of in the moment was if this was how Choso actually looked.

He stared down at you, looking for any type of reaction. He was starting to feel insecure under your gaze before you giggled.

“You’re so pretty, Cho.” The nickname rolled off your tongue effortlessly, not helping his case as you watched his member throb at the words. He groans a little in reply.

You stare up at him, glassy eyes stared back at you, such vulnerability entrusted in your hands. How could you not help a friend?

A hand comes to wrap around him softly, but firm. He flinches in reply, letting out a harsh breath. You divert your attention from his face to his member, slowly beginning to move your hand rhythmically as you keep a steady pace.

This action rewards you with little whimpers, Choso’s eyes on your hands touching him so sweetly. He bit his lip so hard it began to bleed. Choso’s chest was heaving, trying to steady his breathing as his heart beat so fast.

You continued to stroke his girth, rubbing the veins attentively with your thumb occasionally which caused him to slip a sound. The sensation felt way better than his own hands, and he couldn’t help but whine.

His eyes squeezed shut, the pleasure of your soft, small hands being wrapped around his dick made him almost burst at the thought alone.

That was until he felt something warm wrap around him, his closed eyes abruptly shot open as a loud gasp erupted from him, followed by a moan as you lightly swirled your tongue around his dick.

It was likely Choso hadn’t had sex, let alone a blowjob. He only had recently started living as a human, so this was probably how you thought he would react.

You sink your mouth down on him further, your palm wrapped firmly at his base as you pull back, kissing his tip before going back down and taking as much of him you could possibly fit in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue, bobbing your head as you stroked the parts you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your tongue lightly rubbing against a vein on his girth, causing him to moan loudly.

Choso’s eyes were back to being shut, but his left hand went to quickly grab hold of your hair, entangling his fingers in the strands as his right hand gripped the sheet.

The sensation of your tongue gliding along his cock is enough to send him into a spiral, he tries hard not to squirm under your touch but it’s hard with what you’re doing to him.

All he can do is feel the hot, wet saliva of your mouth drip down his dick, while your tongue is consistently prodding and touching all the right spots. It doesn’t help the fact your small hand is rubbing up against the parts you can’t fit.

It doesn’t take long before Choso feels himself drawing closer to the edge, the knot in his stomach threatening to snap into your mouth as his lip has been chewed raw by this point.

Tears well up in the poor man’s eyes, the pleasure being too much for him to handle. He never knew that it could feel this good, in fact, until a while ago he didn’t even know he could ejaculate.

His grip on your hair tightens, his vision begins to get blurry as all he can do is babble moans, the whimpers flowing out of his mouth as if he had been doing this for years.

Without warning, the tall man is coming undone in your mouth. White stringy semen spurts down your throat as he pushes your head down further, almost fully engulfing himself in the warmth of your mouth.

White paints his vision, his head is nauseous and his legs are shaking as his balls tighten, the addicting feeling of orgasm washing over him as he shoots load after load in big waves, not stopping for a second until he was done.

The sounds of his pleasure didn’t do anything but go straight to your core, shamelessly.

When he realises what he did, guilt and regret contorts his face. He instantly pulls you off of his length as you’re coughing, choking on the thick liquid he just released.

He slaps your back hard before you finally come down from your coughing fit, swallowing what you could.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, it just felt really goo-“

When he looks down at you, breath heavy from his orgasm and fit of apologies, he pauses and he evidently stiffens.

You’re confused for a second before you go to wipe your mouth, noticing a little bit of cum had leaked down from your mouth when you were probably coughing.

You look back at him, staring at eachother in silence before he swallows. He could feel the blood rush straight to his dick as his face flushes once more.

Both your hearts are beating fast, the silence is so thick it could be cut with a knife. The air smelled like sex, the tension was bad.

“Um… im sorry. I didn’t mean to…” his voice cracks and croaks, he tried to keep a steady tone but he couldn’t help it. He was so embarrassed at how fast he came, and he was embarrassed he was hard again.

“Don’t be, it’s… not a big deal.” You smile at him awkwardly, as you both sit there.

Your gaze lowers again, still a little taken aback at the fact he was hard once more. Before meeting his eyes

“I can help you again; but you have to promise to be good, okay? Don’t do anything, just relax.” You were speaking on the moment, it’s not like this wasn’t a dream or something.

Choso almost instantly nodded, his mind stopped listening at ‘help you again’

You began to undress, pulling your shirt over your head and kicking your pants off, quickly disposing of them. You’re in just your bra and panties now.

Choso just stared, shamelessly at this point, At your boobs. He ogled them, his face was as red as a cherry.

He took a second to take in your figure, the way your body curved and the way your skin looked so nice, the big plump balls of fat that rest on your chest especially catching his eye.

You never decided it was anything deeper than thought, but you always thought that Choso would be a boob guy.

Your fingertips grab at the hem of your panties, pulling them down to fully expose your cunt in which is seeping slick.

Choso just stares, you notice his breath speeding up as he gets more giddy, probably out of nervousness.

Before he can say anything, you hook a leg over his side while your other one rest the opposite, straddling him.

You lean in, pulling him into a kiss that quickly turns hungry. You’re pushing your tongue past his lips greedily as your tongues fight for dominance, ultimately exploring his mouth.

One of your arms that were previously wrapped around his neck goes down to grab at his cock before lightly teasing it, rubbing against your folds.

Choso whines into your mouth in reply, his hips involuntarily bucking up causing you to gasp. His hands come down to grab at your ass, gripping tightly as he forces you down onto his dick.

You moan into the kiss, the sudden intrusion of your walls causing you to clench harshly around him.

Choso whimpers in response, instinctively thrusting up into you, his tip kissing your cervix so easily with how his length fits inside, you grind down against him.

You pull away from the kiss, your tongue leaving his as a thick strand of saliva connects you two, you stare at him intently before you bite your lip, Choso watches you as you bring yourself up then slam down.

He moans as you begin to ride him, the position you’re in making it easy for him to control when you go down. His strong arms easily lift you up and slam you onto his dick, each time you can feel his girth slam against your poor cervix.

Your vision is hazy, you moan along with him as he continues to control the pace and rhythm, using you as you leak so shamelessly onto him.

“F-fuck, Y/N!” He moans, his eyes are shut. You’re taken aback a bit, definitely not enough to override the pleasure but you’re shocked at the sudden swear considering you’ve never heard him swear.

Your legs are weak and shaking. you shuffle a little, only for him to thrust up into you as he slams you down onto him once more.

He comes up to cup your breasts through your bra as you continue to grind down on his dick, he looks up at you, his eyes almost pleading before you nod, moaning.

He almost tears it off of you, his palms hungrily fondling your tits as your eyes roll back, the feeling of him thrusting up into you as he fondles with your boobs going straight down to your core. Your legs are getting so tired.

You’re out of breath by this point, the moans slipping past your lips so effortlessly as you ride his thick cock, the delicious stretch of your walls squelching with each thrust.

The room smells of thick sex, the only thing besides moans and slapping of skin that can be heard is the rumbling winds outside.

Choso drops his hands from your boobs, resting them firmly on your hips before positioning you into an easier accessible position.

Without warning, he thrusts up into you. It’s at that moment a pleasurable sensation washes over you, your stomach tightening hard. You moan loudly, Choso continues his motion as he realises what he found. He begins abusing your g-spot, your cunt instantly tightening around him as he rams into it.

Harsh thrusts cloud your mind, the pleasure washes over you like nothing has before, the fact that this was a dream being long forgotten by now; if this was a dream, you didn’t want it to end.

Everything felt good in the moment, the knot in your stomach only built up and up, threatening to snap at any second in given time. It begins to tighten, and tighten.

Choso leans in, wrapping his mouth against your sensitive tit, swirling his tongue around as his left hand goes down to rub at your clit in a circular motion, urging you to cum.

You moan loudly, hot pleasure painting your vision as your mind clouds up. Before you know it, you’re cumming hard on his thick cock, not long after he trails you, cumming inside you as the thick white liquid spurts in loads into you.

“I’m sorry!” He moans

The pleasure of your orgasm is enough to wear you down, you take a while to come down from it as your legs shake violently, you can feel Choso under you, moaning loudly as he releases inside.

Your body is so tense as you come back to reality, when you finally manage to shake it, you get off of him, laying down next to him as your chest heaves, feeling his seed trickle down your legs from your pussy.

After everything that happened, the only thing you wonder is why you haven’t woken up from your dream yet. It’s been so long.

You shake your head, trying everything to wake up. But you can’t.

That’s until he says something that makes it register.

“Also… uhm, Im sorry I moved you into my bed, you looked uncomfortable on the couch.”

…

[reystenius-01]

Sweet and Sour

Summary: Alexia comes home from that game to a sick reader. Comfort and fluff ensues.

(okay theres a bit of angst as well, i couldn't help myself, im sorry 😭)

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

Alexia didn’t know whether to cry, to yell, or to hurl a water bottle against the nearest surface. They had lost. Barça had lost. Their first defeat of the season could not have come at a more dangerous time, in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Final. 

It was their first home defeat in five years, as well.

And to add salt to the wound, you weren’t around. You weren’t at the game today. You were at home, incredibly ill to the point where looking at a screen hurt your brain. You weren’t there for Alexia to cling onto, to reassure her that everything would come up blaugrana at the end of the day.

At least, though, you were at home, getting better for the second leg. You’d save them, Alexia told herself, as she applauded the fans for coming and attending. The fans deserved better than whatever the hell that performance was out there.

God, it kept replaying in her head. That miss. That fucking miss.

She could’ve levelled it, put her team on some somewhat stable ground for the away leg at Stamford Bridge. A part of her shattered when that ball went wide, it took majority of her willpower to get right back up afterwards. 

The little head-slaps she usually gave Vicky were lighter now, only just. As much as Alexia would love to give Jona a piece of her mind (she’d do that tomorrow at the latest), you were waiting for her at home. 

The mere thought nearly brought her to her knees. 

Though she knew that you would understand, that you would be the usual radiating beam of positivity that you always were despite feeling like you got hit by a truck, a part of her feared that you’d be disappointed, not just of the team, but of her.

Alexia was brought out of her thoughts as Jona walked into the locker room. The usual post-match speeches were given, but a chunk of Alexia’s brain was just all mush after that game. It was mostly a blur, and she could hardly remember what she had said in her own speech. Thankfully, she didn’t need to do media. The last thing she needed right now, especially in her current headspace, was for some reporters trying to bait her into making a scathing comment.

She wanted to go home to you. And at the same time, she didn’t.

The team bus was mostly silent on the way back to the training ground, a few of the girls conversing in hushed tones, some faint music coming from the back of the bus. Alexia hadn’t texted you yet. You needed the sleep, so you could get better and get back to the team.

Salma’s head was on her shoulder, the girl having fallen asleep a few minutes into the bus ride. Alexia’s heart went out to the girl, and she had encouraged her to keep her head up. 

The minutes went by like a blur, and before Alexia knew it, they were back at the training ground. The radio played faintly in her car as she drove back to your shared home, making a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up your antibiotics, since the pharmacist had called her to let her know that your required dose for tonight was ready.

The first thing Alexia noticed when she got home was the smell of soup. You must’ve made some boxed instant soup or something, her thoughts confirmed when she saw the box and the seasoning packets. There was still some soup left in the pot on the stove. Well, there was dinner sorted.

She set the bag from the pharmacy down on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs to check on you. She quietly entered the bedroom, and saw you curled up in bed, your breathing steady and peaceful. She smiled softly, grateful to see you resting. You could be a little stubborn at times.

Carefully, she approached the bed and sat down beside you, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, also gently holding her hand against your forehead to check on your fever. Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad anymore.

“Hey, amor,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “I’m home.”

You stirred slightly, blinking sleepily as you looked up at her. “Hey, pretty girl,” you murmured, clearing your throat and sitting up a bit so you could lean against the headboard. “How are you? How was the game?”

Alexia hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. She didn't want to disappoint you with the loss, especially when you were just starting to feel better.

“It was... challenging,” she said finally, hating how small she sounded. “But you know how it is. Win some, lose some.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in your eyes. You knew your girlfriend the same way you knew how to breathe. There was no way she’d ever use the words ‘win some, lose some’ to describe a game, especially a Champions League semi-final, at home no less. 

​​You studied her for a moment, your eyes searching her face. “Lex, what's wrong?” you asked gently, sensing her reluctance to talk about it.

Alexia hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of her missed chance, chewing a little on the inside of her cheek. “I... I had a chance to level the score,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I missed.”

Your heart broke then and there, not because of the loss at all. Your girlfriend, the Alexia Putellas and the two-time Ballon D’or winner looked so… small in front of you. Your expression softened with understanding, and you reached out to take her hand in yours. “Hey, it's okay,” you said soothingly, your voice filled with reassurance. “That’s football, love.”

Alexia noticed you shift closer to her a bit, your thumb stroking the back of her hand gently. You were keeping your distance a bit, not wanting to get your girlfriend sick, even more so now.

“But it was such an important game,” Alexia said, her voice trembling with emotion. “And I let everyone down.”

You shook your head, gently squeezing her hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Lex. You gave it your all out there, and that's all anyone can ask for. We win and lose as a team,” Alexia wasn’t looking at you, but you were looking at her, studying her. You could see her biting her bottom lip to keep herself from crying in front of you. “Mi vida, mírame.”

Alexia nibbled on her lip some more, before shaking her head. Your hand left hers, reaching up to gently hold her chin and encourage her to look at you. “Ale, mi niña bonita. Please look at me.”

She let you turn her face to face yours, and your thumb immediately reaching up to wipe away the tears that were escaping the corners of those gorgeous hazel eyes.

Your heart ached for her. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, and it pained you to see her so torn up over the match. “Alexia, listen to me,” you said, your voice firm but gentle as you wiped away her tears, albeit a little croaky as well. “You are so much more than just one missed chance. You are strong, talented, and resilient. And no matter what happens on the field, I am always going to be proud of you.”

Alexia's breath caught in her throat as she looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Don't apologise, amor,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Alexia shook her head, a shaky sigh escaping her lips. “I just... I hate feeling like I disappointed the team, the fans… and you.”

You reached out, cupping her cheek gently in your hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Ale,” you insisted, completely sure of what you were saying. “You're an incredible player and an amazing captain. And I couldn't be prouder of you–”

You doubled over, turning your head away to cough into your arm, your other hand patting your chest. 

“Amor,” Alexia all but jumped to your side, hand rubbing your back despite you trying to keep her at a distance so that she didn’t get sick.

“I’m…” Another stream of coughs escaped you, and Alexia pulled away briefly to pour you a glass of water. “I’m fine, Ale, thank you.”

You accepted the glass, taking a few sips to soothe the irritation you felt in your throat, massaging it gently. “Maybe you should take some medicine,” she suggested, worry evident for your health.

“After this,” you set the glass on the bedside table, grabbing Alexia’s hands again and getting her to sit beside you. “It's okay to feel disappointed, Lex, but don't let one moment define you. You are capable of so much more than you realise, and I know you know that.”

Tears continued to stream down Alexia's cheeks, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she listened to your words. “I just want to make you proud,” she admitted, her voice slightly above a whisper, sounding more like herself now.

“Oh, bebita,” you murmured, your voice soft just like your smile as you bunched up your sleeve, wiping at Alexia’s cheeks. “You already make me proud every single day.”

Alexia sniffled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Even when I miss crucial chances in important games?”

“Even then,” you replied without hesitation, your gaze locked with hers. “Because you give your all out there, and you never give up. You always fight, and fight to make up for it.”

“You always know just what to say,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her as she looked at you.

“What can I say? I’m just so wise,” you replied, pulling a face, making Alexia chuckle and lightly shove your shoulder. “Hey, no bullying the weak and feeble!”

“You aren’t f-fuh–?” Alexia tried to copy your pronunciation, and with each attempt, your smile grew. “Amor!”

“What?” 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Just…” Alexia put her hands on your shoulders. “You’re not weak.”

“I know, mi amor, I know. You aren’t either,” you put one of your hands on top of one of hers, gently caressing her knuckles. “We’re still in it. We’ve been here before, no?” You looked at her knowingly, yet so softly and so full of love.

“Mhm,” she hummed, her smile getting bigger.

“We just need a bit of faith and trust. No matter what happens, win or lose, you’re one of the most amazing people in my life,” you reached out to run your hand through Alexia’s hair, still a bit damp from her post-match shower. “Want me to brush your hair?”

“I want you… to take your medicine,” Alexia said with a smile, and you groaned.

“Is it the tablets?”

Alexia pursed her lips as she stood up, stifling a smile as she held out her hands for you to help yourself up out of bed.

“Amor,” you whined, kicking your feet a little like a child being denied ice cream from a street vendor.

“Come on, my tough and pretty and sexy girl,” Alexia wiggled her fingers. “You can handle a few pills, lovely.”

“I told you that a few months ago, and you banished me to an air mattress on the floor because you didn’t want me catching whatever bug you had,” You held onto her hands, standing up. Alexia’s large hands patted your waist a little before holding you gently. It was an adorable habit of hers. “And then, you proceeded to beg for me to come to bed with you just because you couldn’t stand being apart from me for the night.”

“Come, come,” Alexia had a smile on her face as you went on your little rant, leading you down the stairs to your inevitable fate of having to ingest some pills. You hated the feeling of pills in your throat, even when you took them with water. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“Alexia, don’t be mean to me, I am ill,” you stopped at the bottom step, Alexia looking up at you slightly, tilting her head and smiling at the sight of you pouting.

 You grumbled when she wrapped her arms around your waist and picked you up into her arms, begrudgingly wrapping your legs around her waist to hold onto her as she carried you into the kitchen, “Be careful, you played a rough half of football.”

Alexia glanced at you, brow furrowed. You weren’t supposed to be on your phone or any technology for that matter.

“Mapi called,” you smiled innocently, fingers scratching her scalp, the midfielder closing her eyes at the feeling briefly. “It’s been a while since she used short sentences.” Alexia winced. “Too soon, yep, sorry.”

“The doctor said you need to have three tablets–” Alexia braced herself for the mush of words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“Amor!”

-----

[mellowmusings]

death bed | coffee for your head

Azriel x sick reader part. 2

A/N- I had the idea for this when I heard the song and instead of sick Azriel I made a sick reader, please don't kill me and let me know if you wanna be tagged. Enjoy :). Warning- Angst, reader is depressed and sick, Azzie baby is depressed too. Mainly a really sad fic (mentions of death due to illness). Summary- You had been sick for sometime now and upon visiting a healer you find out the reason, unsure how much time you have left, you wish to spend every second of it preparing Azriel for the moment you leave.

'Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed'

You were tired to say the least, for the past few nights you hadn't been able to sleep at all, and your sweet mate was worried sick for you, and so you had to change your plans for the day, ditching shopping for a visit to Madja instead.

A bell rang as you step into the healer's shop, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and incense, instantly calming your nerves. Soft light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on shelves cluttered with jars, vials, and bundles of plants you didn't recognize. The space felt ancient, yet welcoming, as if it held the quiet weight of countless healing rituals. A small wooden counter sat at the back, covered with bottles and unmarked potions. The faint sound of wind chimes hung in the air, but it’s the stillness that stood out—everything in this room felt intentional, designed to soothe, to listen. There attending to a small plant with the smallest flowers you had ever seen stood Madja.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep I don't wanna pass away I've been thinking of our future 'Cause I'll never see those days I don't know why this has happened, but I probably deserve it I tried to do my best, but you know that I'm not perfect

You felt like throwing up, surely this was a joke? it had to be a joke, no she was lying or maybe you had misheard her, it had to be that way, right? "I know this can be shocking news y/n but like I said it's also a very rare illness" "No,no you're lying please tell me you're lying". She begged. Her voice broke on the last word, she couldn't breathe she felt choked, she wanted to throw up but instead she just fell to her knees and cried her heart out.

I've been praying for forgiveness, you've been praying for my health When I leave this earth, hoping you'll find someone else 'Cause, yeah, we're still young, there's so much we haven't done Getting married, start a family, watch your husband with his son

She didn't know how long she spent crying there with Madja comforting her and stroking her back, she was in shock but more than that she was worried for Azriel, if something happened to her then- No, no she wasn't going to think about that right now but for some reason her thoughts kept circling back to Azriel, to the quiet that would fill the room when she was gone. He’d wake up, reach for her, and feel nothing but emptiness. The bed would be cold, the silence too heavy. He’d feel it in the small things—no more shared glances, no more soft words in the dark.

Would he be okay without her? She couldn’t shake the fear that the grief would swallow him, that the shadows he kept so tightly contained would consume him without her there to pull him back. Would the memories be enough, or would they slip through his fingers? The thought of him unraveling, of him breaking, made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t ignore. She wouldn’t be there to catch him, and that terrified her.

Her gaze caught on a lovely family in the park, children being chased by their dad, their mom laughing at the scene and smiling lovingly at her partner, right, she would never be able to have that with Azriel either. Maybe, one day he'll find someone else, who'd love him just as much as she did, someone who'd start a family with him, give him heirs as lovely as he is. She hoped so because if Madja was right then-

I wish it could be me, but I won't make it off this bed I hope I go to heaven, so I see you once again My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed, yeah

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Yeah, I'm happy that you're here with me I'm sorry if I tear up When me and you were younger, you would always make me cheer up Taking goofy videos while walking through the park You would jump into my arms every time you heard a bark

You lay back against the pillows, your chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. Azriel sat beside you, his fingers gently brushing over your hand, but the tension in the air was thick, suffocating. You could feel the worry in his touch, in the way he kept glancing at you, like he was afraid to miss something, afraid to lose you before he could even understand what was happening.

"Azriel," you whispered, your voice trembling as you gathered the courage to finally say the words. "I’m sick." You tried to keep your tone calm, but it cracked as soon as the words left your lips. "The healer said it’s a rare heart condition. Something... incurable."

His face froze, eyes widening with disbelief, and he leaned forward, as if to pull you into him, to somehow shield you from the world. But you didn’t want his protection right now. You wanted him to hear this. To know the truth, even if it shattered him.

"I wish it could be me," you continued softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I wish I could take it all. The pain. The time. But I—" You faltered, and the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. "I won’t make it off this bed, Azriel."

His hand tightened around yours, his breath shaky, but he said nothing, his eyes begging you to take it back, to tell him it wasn’t true. But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

"I hope I go to heaven," you murmured, forcing a small smile through your tears. "So I can see you again. One day, after this... after all of this."

Azriel’s face crumpled with pain, his eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached for you, pulling you close as if he could somehow hold you together, like he could make everything right if he just tried hard enough. "No," he whispered, his voice raw. "No, please. Don’t say that. Don’t leave me." It hurt to see the brave and stoic shadow singer crumble infront of you over such a small matter, he had faced death time and time again, but never had you seen him so broken.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of him holding you, but there was no denying it now. You couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t keep fighting against what you knew in your bones was coming.

"I’m not ready," you whispered, voice barely audible, "but I think... I think you need to be. This is the reality now, Love. I won’t have much time left."

Azriel held you tighter, but it was clear that he was barely holding on himself. You could feel his heart racing against yours, the fear, the love, the desperation. But you knew, deep down, there was no way to stop it.

"I just need you to be ready," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "Because I won’t be here for long. I need you to promise me something, Az."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face a mask of agony, but he nodded, clinging to your every word.

"Promise me you won’t forget me," you said, the ache in your chest growing, but you didn’t want him to carry this burden forever. "Promise me you’ll live, not survive, but live, even if I’m not there."

He pressed his forehead to yours, and for a moment, it was like the world stopped moving. "I’ll never forget you," he said hoarsely. "And I’ll never stop loving you, not even after…"

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek, but you could feel the finality of it, the quiet acceptance in your soul that you had already said goodbye. "I know. But you have to promise me, Love. Please. Live, for both of us."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy, inevitable. And in that moment, you let go. You accepted what was coming, not with peace, but with a sorrow that was too vast to express.

Azriel didn’t say anything after that. He just held you, and in the silence of the room, you both faced what you knew was coming, as painful and unbearable as it was.

Cuddle in your sheets, sang me sound asleep And sneak out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03 Sundays went to church, on Mondays watched a movie Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

You were curled up against Azriel, the quiet crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. He held you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield from the world. The memories flowed easily now, the ones you both cherished, the ones you were trying so hard to relive, to hold on to.

"Cuddle in your sheets," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "like we used to, like we did so many times. You’d sing me to sleep, your voice soft, your hand in my hair."

Azriel’s thumb brushed over your skin as if committing the sensation of this moment to memory, the feeling of your body pressed against his. "I’ll sing you to sleep forever if I can," he replied, voice thick with emotion. "But you know... I think the best part was sneaking out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03. I used to look at the clock, and I knew you’d be there. We’d laugh, sneak away like we didn’t have a care in the world."

You chuckled softly, a tear slipping down your cheek at the thought. "Sundays, we went to church together. Mondays, we’d watch a movie, get lost in each other’s company. Simple, sweet. And it was ours." You pulled back slightly to look up at him, a small, sad smile on your lips. "I wish we had more of those Mondays."

Azriel's eyes softened with the weight of your words, his voice barely more than a broken whisper. "We still have now," he said, but even he knew the truth in the heaviness of his words. Time was running out.

You closed your eyes, trying to soak in every moment, every detail. You could feel the pain of the inevitable, but for tonight, for this brief moment, you clung to the idea that you could still make new memories. "But soon you'll be alone," you whispered, a sob escaping before you could stop it. "I’m sorry that you have to lose me."

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, his face pressing into your hair. "Don’t say that," he murmured, though his voice was thick with sorrow. "I’ll never lose you. Not really. Not in my heart."

You nodded, your body trembling in his arms. "I hope so," you whispered, holding him tighter. "But I’ll always love you. Every memory, every laugh, every quiet Sunday. I’ll carry those with me, even when I’m gone."

And for a moment, time felt still, like the universe had paused just long enough for you both to hold on to each other a little tighter, to try and make every second count before it was all gone.

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Azriel sat beside you, his hand resting gently on your own, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to constantly settle in your bones. Your breathing was shallow, weak, each rise and fall of your chest an effort, and yet, despite it all, you smiled up at him. It was the kind of smile that told him you were fighting, even when it seemed like there was no fight left in you.

"I don't want you to stay awake for too long," you whispered, your voice thin, but still full of the love you carried for him. "I know you watch over me, but you need sleep too, Azriel." Your hand squeezed his, the action small but intentional.

He looked at you, eyes filled with an ache that ran deeper than the shadows that normally clung to him. His gaze searched your face, searching for something, anything that might bring you back to him, but there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming. His grip tightened, but he didn't speak. What could he say? Every word felt like a lie in the face of what you both knew was inevitable.

"You've been so strong," he finally whispered, voice hoarse. "Please, don’t give up on me now." His thumb stroked over your knuckles, as if grounding himself in the reality that, in his heart, he knew you were slipping away.

You let out a soft, raspy laugh, and though it was faint, it made him want to smile, even though the pain was consuming him. "I’m not giving up," you said, each word a battle, but the light in your eyes still bright enough to pierce through the darkness. "I’m just… trying to make the most of the time we have left."

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening, but you gently cupped his cheek, urging him to look at you. "Don’t stay awake for too long," you repeated softly, your hand slipping into his as you pressed it over your heart. "Don’t go to bed, not yet. I’m still here. I’m still with you."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. You felt his warm breath on your skin, a small reminder of how much he loved you. How much he needed you.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Let me make you coffee in the morning, just like we used to. I’ll get you out of bed. I’ll help you find your strength again, just like before."

You smiled at him, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision. "I’ll make the coffee," you whispered, "when I can. I’ll make sure you get through it, even after I’m gone. I wrote you letters. Letters for the years to come, so you’ll know I’m still with you. So you’ll know that I’ll always love you, even when I’m not there."

Azriel’s heart shattered. "No," he said hoarsely, "No, you can’t leave me." His voice broke at the end, the rawness of his fear leaking through. You were fighting so hard, so fiercely, for him, but he couldn’t stop the truth from settling in his chest.

"You’ve always been my strength, Azriel," you whispered, your voice so soft, but so full of love. "And I’ll be yours, even when I’m not here to hold you. I need you to live. To keep fighting. And when the days feel long, when the nights feel too empty, I want you to read those letters. They’re for you. I’ll make sure you find your way."

Azriel couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, his lips trembling against your skin. "I’m going to keep you here with me, in my heart. Forever. I promise. I won’t forget, I swear it."

You smiled through the tears, despite the weariness that clung to your body. "I’m not leaving you, Azriel," you whispered, "not really. Not ever."

But the truth, unspoken between you both, was that you didn’t have much longer. And still, you fought, not for yourself but for him, so he could have something to hold on to after you were gone.

"Please," he begged softly, his voice breaking, "don’t leave me."

You brushed a tear from his cheek, as your voice trembled, "I’ll never really leave you, Azriel. I’ll always be with you. In every letter, in every thought."

You paused, a soft, warm breath escaping your lips. "I’ll get you out of bed, Azriel," you whispered, a hint of a smile on your face, "I’ll get you going again. Even if I’m not there to see it."

His tears fell freely now, but there was a quiet peace in the way he held you—knowing, with an ache so deep it felt like it might swallow him whole, that he would carry you forever.

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

A few weeks had passed, and the weight of each day was beginning to take its toll. The glow in your eyes had dimmed, and your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. Azriel stayed by your side every moment, his presence constant, like a shadow you never wanted to be without.

He had been trying to hold on to the last threads of you, keeping the hope alive that maybe, somehow, you would pull through. But he knew. He knew with every soft breath you took, with every fleeting smile you gave him, that time was slipping away from both of you.

Today, though… today it felt like everything was slower. The air in the room was thick with an aching kind of quiet, the kind where even the heartbeats that echoed in the space between you seemed too loud.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, his arms around you, pulling you close like you’d always been. His fingers lightly traced the line of your jaw, like he could imprint your face into his soul if he touched you long enough. His lips pressed to your forehead, trying to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could into you, but it felt like it was never enough.

You had grown weaker. Your skin was pale, your breathing labored, but you still smiled at him when your eyes fluttered open.

"I’m still here," you whispered softly, your voice raspy but filled with the love you had for him. "I’m still here, Azriel."

He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, his throat tight. "You don’t have to fight anymore," he murmured, brushing the damp strands of hair from your face. "I’ve got you. I’ll never let you go."

You smiled faintly, your hand reaching for his, weak but determined. "I know," you whispered. "I know… but I have to tell you something, something important."

Azriel leaned closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Anything," he breathed. "Tell me anything, love. I’m listening."

"I wrote letters," you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open. "For the years to come… For you. So you know I’ll always be with you, even when I’m not." He silently promised himself would read every letter you left behind, each one a piece of your love, keeping him alive in a world where you no longer were.

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sob breaking free from deep inside him. "You don’t have to go," he said, his voice raw, breaking with the weight of everything he wished he could say, everything he wished he could change. "I can’t… I can’t lose you."

A tear slipped down your cheek, but your smile didn’t fade. You reached up with trembling fingers, tracing the line of his jaw, as if trying to memorize him the way he had memorized you. "You’ll be okay, Azriel. You’re so strong. You’ve always been strong. Just—just remember that I love you. I always will."

His breath caught in his throat as he kissed your hand gently, his voice cracking. "I love you," he whispered, "I love you more than I could ever put into words."

You closed your eyes, your hand slipping from his, but he caught it again instantly, holding on as if it would keep you tethered to him, keep you from slipping away.

Your breathing grew even more shallow, each one taking more effort than the last. Azriel could feel the tremor in your body, the slow, inevitable shift that told him everything he feared was coming. But he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

"I’m not ready to let you go," Azriel murmured, his voice hoarse, tears streaming down his face as he held you in his arms. "I’ve never been ready to let you go. Not now, not ever."

You gave him one last, gentle smile, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "You’ll always have me," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "In every letter, in every thought, in every coffee you make. You’ll find me again, in the quiet moments. I’ll always be with you."

And then, as if your body had finally found peace, your chest stilled. Your breathing slowed, and for the first time in weeks, there was complete silence. Azriel’s heart shattered, his breath caught in his throat, and for a long moment, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

"No," he choked out, his voice breaking, his chest heaving with the weight of loss. "No, please…"

But there was no response. Only the soft, quiet sound of his heartbeat echoing through the silence, as if trying to fill the emptiness you left behind. His arms tightened around you one last time, as if holding you could bring you back, as if love could defy death.

For a long while, Azriel stayed there, clutching you to him, his tears falling onto your skin. He couldn’t let go. Not yet. He needed to hold you, to feel you close, to believe, for just a little longer, that you weren’t truly gone.

And in the stillness of the room, as the shadows of night stretched across the floor, Azriel whispered the only thing left in his broken heart.

"I’ll always love you. Always."

The room was silent. Still. But his words lingered in the air, a promise he would carry with him forever.

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Azriel stood at the edge of the balcony, staring into the endless void of night. The stars above seemed to mock him, distant and cold, twinkling as though the universe was still moving forward, as though life was continuing. But for him, everything had stopped.

The wind swept through the courtyard, its icy fingers clawing at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold that had settled deep in his chest, in his soul. He had not moved from that spot since… since that moment. The moment she had slipped away from him, her final breath trembling in his arms, leaving nothing but an echo of the love they had shared. The world felt like a hollow, silent place, and he was drowning in its emptiness.

He could still smell her, faintly. Her scent lingered in the air, in the folds of the blanket she had used to curl up in, in the spaces between the letters she had written him, all the things that were now gone—faded into the dust of the world she had left behind.

Her letters. He had read them, over and over, each one a tear-streaked page of her love for him, a love he could no longer feel against his skin, in her touch, in her smile. He had read her last words, over and over, searching for some kind of comfort. But the comfort never came. The words she had left behind—I’ll always be with you, Azriel—only left him feeling more alone. Her absence was a shadow that consumed everything.

"I’ll always be with you," he muttered bitterly to the darkened sky, as if the universe owed him something. "Where the hell are you now?"

He wanted to scream. To shout into the abyss that had taken her from him, to demand it give her back. But what was the point? The universe didn’t care. Time didn’t care. And now, all that was left was his hollow existence.

The days blurred together, the ache of her absence cutting deeper with every passing hour. He had stopped sleeping, stopped eating. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but exist, moving through each day as if in a fog. The shadows whispered her name—her voice, her laughter, the warmth of her skin against his—and all he could do was shut his eyes and pretend he didn’t hear them.

But the silence… the silence was the worst.

Everywhere he went, there were reminders. The empty corner of the room where her chair used to sit, the books she had loved scattered across the table, the coffee mug she had left on the counter—his mug now, though it meant nothing. All of it was just a reminder that she was gone, and he was left alone, trapped in a world where nothing made sense without her. Without her laughter, without the way she’d tease him in the mornings, the soft way she’d press her face to his chest when she needed comfort.

She had been everything to him. His light, his warmth, his reason to fight. And now…

The darkness pressed in on him, a crushing weight on his chest. His wings, once majestic and powerful, now felt like an anchor. He had no use for them anymore. They had carried him through battles, through pain, through moments of glory. But now they felt like a reminder of how empty he was. How much of a shell he had become.

The weight of the silence was unbearable. He could feel the crushing loneliness clawing at him, desperate to consume him whole. And as he stood there, staring out into the endless night, he almost wished for it to. He almost wished for the silence to swallow him, to take him with her, because what was the point of living in a world where she wasn’t there?

“I can’t keep doing this,” he whispered to the darkness, his voice cracking. His breath came in short, uneven bursts, each one a reminder that he was still alive—still breathing, even though every part of him screamed to be gone. To be where she was, wherever that was, because life without her felt like a slow, torturous death.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it as if the physical pain would distract him from the ache in his chest. But it didn’t. Nothing could.

The weight of everything pressed on him—the guilt, the anger, the regret. He had promised her, promised her, that he would take care of her, that he wouldn’t let her go. But in the end, he had failed. He hadn’t been enough to save her. And now, she was gone, and all he had left were the memories. The hollow echoes of her voice, her laughter, her touch.

“I wasn’t enough for you,” he whispered, a raw, broken sob escaping him. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, his wings folding around him like an armor of despair. “I couldn’t save you. And now… now I have nothing.”

He curled into himself, his arms wrapping around his knees, his head pressed against them as the tears came in waves. His body trembled with the force of it. Every sob was like a shard of glass digging deeper into his heart, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

The world had moved on. The stars had continued to shine. The wind had continued to blow. But for Azriel, it had all stopped. Because she was gone, and no matter how many times he whispered her name into the darkness, no matter how many times he begged for her to come back, he knew the truth.

She was gone. And he was broken beyond repair.

Time would pass, the seasons would change, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered without her.

And as the silence closed in around him, Azriel made a vow to the shadows, to the darkness that now felt like home.

He would never forgive himself. He would never forget the way she had died in his arms, the way he couldn’t save her. And as the cold night wrapped itself around him, he whispered through clenched teeth, “I’ll make the world pay. I’ll make everything pay for taking you from me.”

But even as the words left his lips, he knew they wouldn’t bring her back.

And he would have to live with that.

Taglist: @anarchiii @er1023 @siriuslystyle1989 @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @starlightazriel

[stuffyflowers]

finally refined my amalgamate kanako take a little bit. was gonna annotate my thoughts on the image but i hate making compositions lol, so ill just talk below the cut in a semi-ramble. enjoy!

she is fused with a few other dunes monsters. when she woke up in the lab without her mother, i feel like she wouldve latched onto the most familiar looking monsters for some semblance of comfort and spent the most time with them before... everything went wrong. if you haven't guessed already, they are:

a dunebud (eyes)

a cactus monster (back spikes)

a monster of the same species as bryan (guy you give the hard hat to in the mines) (general long body, arms, slug-like tail)

(i would like to give each of them more defined individual personalities/names/etc at some point too, but i havent settled on anything yet. stay tuned for that if you want i guess)

much like how crystal (snowdrakes mum) seems to be the 'main' host in her amalgamate, kanako has the most control in this amalgamate (probably something to do with her having a stronger soul than most monsters). when this is the case, the left side of the face is visible and the left ear perks up. when one (or several) of the other monsters are fronting, this occurs for the right side instead.

for anyone who didnt know, the uty devs confirmed they intended for kanako to be the spoon amalgamate who tucks frisk in, which my take on her is inspired by. when she starts to lose memories of her old self as all the amalgamates do, she holds onto the faint memory of ceroba tucking her into bed. one of her daily routines in the lab is neatly making every bed until one of the others makes a mess of it, then rinse and repeat. again and again.

like how frisk helps the other amalgamates remember their old lives through acts, they help kanako remember her mother more clearly when they hop onto the bed, hence why she fondly pats their head as she can now remember ceroba doing after tucking her in every night.

the unfortunate side effect of her regaining a large chunk of her memory is that her guilt over 'failing' the experiment resurfaces, and she convinces herself that her mother wouldnt want to see her, even if they were ever allowed to go free. she ends up being the last amalgamate alphys reunites with their families, it takes a lot of convincing from her as well as the other parts of kanako that want to see their families to get her to leave the lab.

to keep it short, kanako and cerobas bond after the barrier breaks starts off a little rocky. ceroba is of course overjoyed kanako is alive, though it does take her a long while to get used to her being made up of three other monsters. they both still have feelings of immense guilt towards each other due to the incident that got them in this situation to begin with, which also takes a long time to smooth out. regardless, they are both doing their best to move forward and make the most of the second chances theyve both been given.

[recycledraccoon]

Quick! I'm from the future!! I need your inkblade headcanons or scenarios or the universe will implode!

Ok ok, I can do this. I can answer this ask without going out of control. I can be normal about this, I can.

I don't have very many hardset headcanons, but more vibes that rise and fall like the tide. Oisin's fins/head-crest flare out ramrod straight and the spines turn as purple as his face if he's blushing hard enough. I will die on this hill. Oisin's non-verbal emotions are actually really easy to pick up on if he's too distracted to keep them tightly in control. A thick dragonborn tail lashing back and forth like an outlet for Emotions That Are Too Big can be really inconvenient in a highschool hallway. The rise and fall of his fins/head-crest are MUCH harder to hide however. Oisin also smells perpetually of petrichor, and it drives Adaine insane.

1. I think Oisin's crush started softly, and with indescribable longing, probably before he ever knew who she was. Freshman year, a Thursday Intro To Glyphs class. He doesn't know or talk to her at all, just a face in a class he has that he barely notices. So he's not falling for her quite yet.

I think he first fell in love in the way one does when you see a stranger sitting across from you on the public bus or train. The sunlight hit her hair and he couldn't take his eyes off suddenly. Maybe he saw her smiling and laughing with her friends, maybe she was rolling her eyes at them with her nose scrunched up just a little in faint judgement, maybe he can't even remember because while walking past in the hallway he had been so dumb-struck for a second he walked face first into an open locker door to Ivy's absolute confusion. (She does laugh at him mercilessly, even if he won't say why he walked into it.)

It's a moment of "I don't know you, you don't know me, but for one unfathomably long moment I wanted nothing more than to imagine a life lived that included basking near you and your smile every day until I die."

Unrealistic right? Just a passing stranger, this isn't a love story, it's an average Tuesday and Oisin has homework and an appointment with his party in the forest after school.

He gathers his bearings and moves on, and if his mind wanders back to the girl in the hall who had captivated him to lethal effect? Well it's a pleasant memory for him and he thinks that's allowed, right?

Except she's in his Glyph class two days later, he realizes, and suddenly that hallway moment of longing rushes back until his entire face is purple and he's trying not to stare at the occasionally stuttering but brilliant wizard girl two rows ahead in class.

1a. I think Oisin continued to take Glyph classes at first because he hoped she would too. Adaine doesn't, but Oisin continues because he is good at them and enjoys it and it's certainly easier to learn when he's not distracted in class 70% of the time.

2. As Oisin gets older, more and more of his dragonic nature becomes apparent. It's like a second puberty happening concurrently with normal puberty, which means it's a rollercoaster nightmare for him and the High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders.

2a. Dragons have hoards, but not all dragons hoard the same things, even within their own subclasses. Still, Oisin has quite a few gems and jewels in his fledgling hoard, despite not knowing what he most wants to hoard, and if his favorite gem just so happens to be one that reminds him of the shade of blue in a particular elven girl's eyes then-

2b. Oisin also has a deep fondness for rain and storms. He always knows if it's incoming even if it's not in the forecast. Something primal in him connects to the raging skies, for good or ill. It makes him feel confident and powerful. He also considers it very romantic. Unfortunately, Adaine gets so cross with him anytime she hears him predict a storm coming, even if he's talking to literally anyone else. (Adaine thinks Oisin is a storm himself, and if she is not careful she will be like the last Oracle and have forgotten to stock up on water breathing spells and drown in him amidst the storm of his being.)

2c. Dragons also hold great respect for power and prowess. Physical fights for hierarchy, play, or even courtship are very normal. For all that they are sentient brilliant beings, Dragons are still wild, untameable, primal things. This lurks underneath all of them, good or evil. Some are just more adept at hiding it. For courtship, this comes into play as sizing the other up. Both sides are looking to find out whether or not the other has any worth as a long term partner who would need to help guard the nest. Protecting eggs and hoards from greedy adventurers is serious business. There are reasons there aren't many truly ancient dragons. Too large a discrepancy in strength can sometimes be a turn off for the stronger one, so the most successful courtships are usually of similarly strong dragons, or at least, ones that put up enough of a fight despite the gap.

c1. Oisin, seeing the great accomplishments and prowess of Adaine Abernant over the course of Freshman year, feels a deep stirring even before he's rage-starred. He wants to fight her so badly, to sling magic and bloody teeth until the raging beast inside is sated. Naturally this scares him at first, and Oisin REFUSES to seek Adaine out to talk because of it, because the teen boy part of himself wants something kind, soft and tender between them, while the dragon making itself known as he ages wants to prove itself strong to her.

Later, he will tell himself this urge was ENTIRELY because he'd been on the path towards being contaminated-then-consumed with rage and wanted the Bad Kids dead. Absolutely not because it's the first step in traditional dragon courtship. He just wants to prove himself to her. He wants to feel for himself the confirmation of her renowned battle prowess. This is all for purely rival-related reasons, he tells himself. He is, perhaps, a bit of a liar.

3. Adaine's crush, not just her thinking he's cute but her actual legitimate crush on him, actually starts when the Rat Grinders are being redeemed post-Junior Year.

Like, she hates his GUTS. He made her feel belittled and stupid during Junior year, and yes they kicked his and his friends asses, but also now they just have to deal with them still being around. (Yes this is how they made friends with Ragh too, but they're petty.)

Except...so now they have to spend time together, maybe in classes maybe because Lucy loves her friends despite everything but is also now a friend of The Bad Kids. The former Rat Grinders are CLEARLY trying so hard to be better and kinder, but still the parties are mingling and there is tension but its also so fucking funny.

So Adaine and Oisin's interactions is just a montage of them being assholes to each other. Oisin can be polite and respectable, funny even, with everyone BUT Adaine apparently. Bickering about wizard things, taunting cutting words, and Adaine repeatedly trying to punch his smug face whenever he gets too close while gloating if he's right about something.

3a. Adaine literally tells Aelwyn that while she wants and needs kindness, she does acknowledge that it's messed up that she wishes someone was a little mean to her sometimes. This rivalry with Oisin is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!!!!!! (the monkey paw curls)

3b. The worst part, is no matter how much Adaine hates Oisin, is that it doesn't stop him from being attractive. Oh sure, she thinks he's an absolute asshole when he's sitting across from her in the library, but......

He's still absurdly tall, with large arms that are for more than just show. The conjuration tattoos are both practical and very pleasing to the eye, the almost electric blue of them a pleasing contrast to the softer blue shade of his scales.

The contradiction of those large round spectacles resting on his snout makes him look just dorky enough to go from being just another buff guy to being....well. Unfortunately, the glasses also do nothing to shield Adaine from the weight of his gaze.

When he looks at her with his full attention, behind those glasses are eyes of molten gold, and trained solely on her that gaze feels searing hot wherever it lands.

3c. Or perhaps, the worst part is she despises how he laughs. Sometimes, when she says something as clever as it is cutting, Oisin throws his head back just a little to laugh, bright and warm, all while his throat rumbles. It must be something draconic in nature, like a strong purr or distant rain clouds. It's much harder to get him to make that particular sound when he laughs, and the rumble feels unfairly like victory. Like she cracked the careful fascade he puts up to pretend like he's not a dragon.

The rumble also feels particularly reminiscent of butterflies in her stomach. (She elects to ignore this part.)

4. Oisin is a dragon, and he is a little obsessed with Adaine even if he doesn't dare to dream of going on an actual date with her after everything from the previous year. He cannot imagine a world where she would ever again believe him to be genuine in affection or intention towards romantic feelings. No instance of genuine fluster could ever be seen as anything but a clever ruse, he tells himself, he certainly wouldn't believe it if it was him.

But he's got her attention now, and he is possessive of that, of what he CAN get. Even if she hates his guts and pointblank threatens to kill him if he steps out of line-

Even if it's because she hates him, Oisin still has her eyes on him. Eyes like clear skies before the rolling storm, like they can pierce through everything he is and will ever be and know the truth of it.

Every conversation is like a battle, a verbal sparring that he TELLS himself is nothing at all like the courtship fights, but oh how sweet does it sound to his inner dragon. She could be cussing him out and he could feel like his heart would burst from his chest from the affection he feels, even as he riles her up further, until she slips into saccharine elven curses that he can practically taste on his forked tongue.

4a. Once he tosses back a clever jape in draconic at her. When she immediately starts in on him with the gutteral words of his native tongue, perfectly fluent but lilted ever so slightly like a refined melody, his tail accidentally knocks over a chair and his crest flares so strongly that he KNOWS his face must be more purple than a ripe plum. He's lost a battle and her laughter at the way he flees claiming he forgot something haunts him for days. He tries to get revenge by whispering things under his breath at her in Elvish, and her glare is divine, but it's so risky because she might just start talking to him draconic again and Oisin fears he could live a thousand years and still not be able to handle the sound of it when it falls from her lips.

a1. It's a lost cause. Adaine has a weakness now, and she wields it with all the precision she's developed on a battlefield. It's the cutest surest way to put him in his place, rile him up with the same burning fire that he seems so expert in stirring up in her. Oh he might try to argue back in draconic, or even throw a taunt out in Elvish, but he always stalks off first. (He makes the refined, posh but ancient language of Elvish sound like something Tracker would appreciate. He makes it sound ever so slightly wild, like something else is lurking behind all the refinery. Adaine is well practiced in steadying her breathing, and Oisin always cracks first.)

5. Everyone has seen these two bicker back and forth, and everyone knows trying to get them to stop or get between them means the two turn as a united front against whoever interrupted, and that's honestly worse.

5a. The Bad Kids and High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders have an ongoing bet amongst themselves on on if the two will snap and legitimately murder each other, or snap and start making out in the library. It's honestly way too elaborate of a betting system with odds changing all the time, but it is actually probably the most fun, non-tense bonding the two groups have together. They have also gone to GREAT LENGTHS to keep it secret from the two wizards, especially when one of them is the fucking ORACLE.

6. It's not all bickering and scathing words. Sometimes, when nobody else is around to see behind this precarious curtain...its soft and tender too.

6a. Sometimes, when Adaine is genuinely having a bad day and feels one wrong moment from truly snapping, she feels the magic of a conjured summon passing by whatever table or nook she stowed herself away to hide in. The smell of arcane-tinted petrichor lingers afterwards, and settled nearby is a warm drink that hadn't been there before. Sometimes its tea's she's fond of, sometimes a warm peppermint mocha from her favorite coffee place downtown. Against her better judgement, she is increasingly fond of the smell of rain. 6b. Sometimes, the rage feels like it never left Oisin's body. It burns him inside and out, and he's so exhausted fighting back these aftershocks. He is trying every day to make up for what he's done, but the feeling of unbridled rage haunts him. To indulge is to fail, fall off the wagon, and he will not falter, even if he squeezes his hands so tightly they bleed beneath his claws. A message cantrip blooms to life in his mind. Melodic, lilted draconic, giving not words of comfort, but familiar unafraid taunts. It's a challenge, he knows it, and somehow that makes it easier, rage giving way to fondness and the desire to prove himself. 6c. There are more late nights in libraries and sitting close at tables in out of the way restaurants working on difficult projects then either would ever let anyone know, not that they let anyone know of them at all. It's quiet honest conversations over dusty tomes and scattered papers. (They couldn't know how to make the most cutting of remarks if they knew nothing about each other, after all.) a1. Its Oisin, laying his head down in his arms over the library table, eyes watching her sitting next to him with hair falling in her face like it always does when shes bent forward focusing intently on her work. There are many, many times when Oisin does nothing but watch in silence. Sometimes, rarely, when its late and nobody will come by except to kick them out- He reaches a claw to gingerly tuck the silken gold hair behind the bright red ear of a girl who doesn't say anything about it, before he looks away entirely, trying to ignore the way he can feel his crest fluttering up and down as it seemingly contemplates flaring out.

a2. It's Adaine, rolling her eyes with no heat, as she steps into his personal space and is enveloped in the smell of petrichor. Calloused fingers lingering on rough scales as she ever so gently corrects a stance or spell casting motion that the unfairly tall dragonborn boy next to her had been working on perfecting.

The both know she doesn't have to be so close for this, that another demonstration from beside him would work just fine. He doesn't have to bend ever so slightly, dip his long draconian neck down so he can better hear her murmured words either, so close they can feel the heat of the others breath. He casts the spell perfectly, and Adaine steps back out to a respectable distance, and neither of them say anything about it.

7. Neither of them ever mention any of it. It feels taboo, like the triggering of a spell that will destroy both of them. The fighting, the bickering, the cutting words and sharp swords aimed at jugulars? That's easy, that's familiar and safe. It's what's supposed to happen between them, safe territory they can walk with eyes closed. It's the tenderness that's hard. It's the yearning and soft touches aborted at the last moment-

This is what would be their ruin, and the threat of it lingers above them, rolling clouds heavy with rain that just wont fall. Days, weeks, months pass by and they do not mention it.

8. Adaine, flush with Oracle-sure certainty, gestures for Oisin to slow down, to bend down low so she can tell him something. He protests, its about to rain any second and really Abernant, they're going to be late- Adaine kisses Oisin first, soft and sure as her hands cradle his scaled jaw, just as the dark clouds above them break open.

The kiss tastes like rain, and the loud, pleased rumble in her ears certainly isn't from the storm coming down on them.

[primarinite]

just realized i never posted my rescue team character redesigns oops

ninetales: shiloh (they/them)

-reworked to be a snowdrift (alolan) ninetales because it makes more sense with the climate they live in and spike chunsoft are COWARDS for not including the regional variants of pokemon in gens 1-3 that got one.

-actually only has 8 tails (lost one in the havoc encounter).

-@ all of the ties that bind heads out there: does their design remind you of anyone in particular? :3c

gengar: havoc (he/him)

-his real (human) name was alphard. he discarded this name and adopted havoc instead after his transformation, as he was hoping that it would make others want to avoid him entirely, as he felt like he didn't deserve any kindness or decency after what he had done. unfortunately for him, medicham and adder (ekans) are stupid and like him. he starts using alphard again after tureis is saved.

-he has a permanent frostbite scar on his right hand from when he grabbed shiloh.

-team meanies fully disbands after tureis' rescue and gengar decides to spend his time giving back to the community in pokemon square for forgiving him. he pretty much becomes team fable's biggest fan and hypes up mayar and turies after she joins (newlin.....exists), not that he will ever admit it.

-after the tureis rescue, mayar tells alphard that regardless of what he's done in the past he's still deserving of love and compassion and that he's not a bad pokemon. alphard becomes smitten with her after that (<- guy that is desparate for companionship). mayar thinks that he's funny and forgives him for the whole "sending a violent mob after her and newlin" thing, and they hookup eventually. everybody in town (especially newlin) hates it but they're still supportive.

-other than newlin he becomes the most active participant in team fable's research into mega evolution when their focus shifts over to that.

gardevoir: tureis (she/her)

-joins team fable for a few years before eventually joining team charm after meeting lopunny. the switch from rescuing to exploring excites her, especially since she's been unable to go anywhere for years. mayar and newlin are very supportive of this. medicham also joins in hopes of getting stronger by travelling to make up for fainting in wish cave.

-being trapped took a heavy toll on her physical body that left her very ill for a long time. she couldn't do much without getting weak and winded, and was severely underweight upon being freed. everyone was supportive of her just doing what she can while part of the team (though she was barred from partaking in mega evolution research due to being a massive strain on the body and could be lethal in her condition). she's much healthier as of joining team charm, which is her main motivation for getting out there and travelling.

-there is a 30ish year gap between rt and explorers in my lore, so by the time she appears in explorers she's in her late 50s/early 60s. still kicking it!

-first image is her appearance in rt, second image is her appearance in explorers

-never recovers her memories of alphard but, for reasons she can't describe, she feels a strong kinship with him. the two become good friends.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Prettier When You're Mine

Dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Author’s Note: Two more chapters on this one

Summary: One year into working with a young, bright and beautiful junior prosecutor, Y/n, who bears an almost uncanny resemblance to Andy’s late wife, Laurie, he finds himself developing feelings for her. Though, when she brushes off his advances, Andy proves that he’ll do whatever it takes to recreate his family.

Disclaimer: 18+ This work contains dark themes, including stalking, dub-con, infidelity and manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

Masterlist Playlist Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Weeks after her visit to Andy's house, Y/n makes an unsettling discovery and Andy reveals an even more sinister truth Warning: mentions of forced sex, mentions of stalking, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy

Twelve weeks Later

Food poisoning. Stress. A newly developed food intolerance. Some sort of undiagnosed illness. 

Off all the things that could have caused the wave of symptoms she’d been experiencing, two faint, pink lines on a little plastic stick was the last place Y/n figured she’d find her reasoning. Holding the edge of the bathroom counter in a white knuckled grip, she shut her eyes and bent her head. Sniffling softly, she felt a slow, warm trickle down her cheeks and it was a task in itself to quiet her sobs.  

It wasn’t possible- it wasn't supposed to be possible. 

Unless-

“Babe?” A knock on the locked bathroom door made Y/n jump, and hastily wiping at her eyes, she checked her reflection over while emitting a sound of encouragement. “I’m almost ready to leave-”

“Already?” After capping the test and shoving it into the waistband of the back of her pants, she pulled the door open abruptly, causing James- who had been leaning on it- to stumble forward a little. “I didn’t realize it was seven already.”

He glanced at his watch and flashed her a look of concern, “Its actually seven thirty,” reaching out, he cupped the side of her face and she tried to smile, hoping that the sting in her eyes would wait till he’d left. “You’re still sick?” He frowned deeply and then chuckled halfheartedly as he teased, “I thought you were better, you had half a pizza last night.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/n smiled faintly and laid her hand on his forearm, “I’m fine,” she lied. It was hard to keep it together, but the last thing Y/n wanted was to have to explain everything to James when she could hardly make sense of it all herself. “Its just um…my hair is being uncooperative.”

He didn’t look like he believed her, but played along anyway, “Looks great to me,” he bent his head a little too swipe a kiss off her lips. When he pulled away, James searched her eyes and furrowed his brows, “You’re sure that you’re okay?” He moved his hand to slip two fingers under her chin, “Because if you want to stay home, I’ll stay with you or-”

“I’m fine,” Y/n forced herself to smile, “Go to work,” she tiptoed and kissed him again. 

He sighed, “Alright. Alright. And you’re sure you don’t want a ride?” Y/n shook her head in refusal, already deciding that she had other plans and wanting to get out of her current situation as soon as possible. “Okay,” his smile faltered, “Well I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Y/n blinked quickly, barely holding it together, it was getting harder to lie to him by the second, and all she wanted was a few minutes to break down in peace, “Later.” 

“Love you,” James said softly before kissing her one last time, and with a subtle, unnoticed break in her voice, Y/n returned; 

“Love you too.”

Later that day

Letting out a long, slow breath, Y/n wrung her hands together. She was shaking in her shoes and barely holding it together; it felt like her whole life was falling apart while she’d been reduced to nothing more than a powerless spectator.

She was late to work that morning, having impulsively decided to detour to a local women’s clinic. A free one that time so she wouldn’t have to use insurance or her banking information- the last thing she needed was James finding out about it from anyone but her. It, up to the minute she’d seen the little grainy image on the blueish screen, Y/n had taken to calling the baby in her belly ‘it’. Because it wasn’t possible; it wasn’t supposed to be there. It was going to ruin everything. 

But then she’d seen it and within a second, everything had changed. She fell in love. 

And she was so scared of that love. 

The nurse at the clinic had been alarmed by her very expressive outburst; loud wailing and messy tears. She’d asked if something had happened to put her in that situation, if she needed to see a social worker or wanted a pamphlet on termination. Y/n had refused both. 

“Okay,” Y/n exhaled heavily, touching her lower stomach, “Let’s do this.” 

Another breath. 

Clenching her fist so tight she could feel her nails leaving crescent shaped bruises on her palms, Y/n knocked on the door. She would have just gone in, she wanted to, but Y/n also wanted to prolong her final moments spent in denial. 

“Come in.”

Another breath. A bigger one. 

Turning the knob, Y/n crept inside and shut the door behind herself. Her throat suddenly felt dry and when he looked up from his work, and when he flashed her an unsuspecting, innocent gaze she felt rage boil in her center. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at his house, Andy for one had seemed to have forgotten, making Y/n wonder if he’d been that drunk. 

She’d even started wondering if it had all been a dream because how could he forget when she thought about it everyday? 

“Y/n,” he folded his arms, “You’re-”

Late. For a lot of things. 

“I know,” she cut him off hastily, “We need to talk.”

It might have been her tone, or just the weight of her words, but Andy sat up straighter, relaxing into the back of his chair and knitted his brows. Frowning, he asked, “What is it?” Y/n hesitated, and he though he encouraged her to sit, she remained standing, “Sweetheart if you don’t-”

“Please don’t call me that,” she cut him off hastily, shaking her head, “You have no idea-” Her voice broke with emotion and she sniffled loudly.

"Hey," Andy crooned, standing and crossing the floor to come near her. Though, when he reached to touch her face, Y/n filched, and his jaw tightened in response. With a scoff, he raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped away to lean on the edge of a bureau against the wall while she lingered near the chairs at his desk

Peeved by his reaction but still crippled with anxiety, Y/n whispered, “This is really important.”

“I wouldn’t know, you haven’t told me yet,” he shrugged and she wasn't sure if his disregard was coming from his annoyance with her or just the fact that he seemed to enjoy seeing her vulnerable. When she still didn’t speak, Andy started again, “I want to help you, but-”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, refusing to look at him. 

Andy huffed, straightening his back as his grip on the edge of cupboard loosened, “Congratulations.”

Lifting her head, her jaw dropped when she realized his apparent amusement, “No, you don’t understand,” Y/n explained in a panic, “I’m twelve weeks pregnant and....." For a moment, she considered telling him about James' infertility, but Y/n didn't think she wanted him to know that much about her personal life. "It doesn't matter," she shook her head, "You're probably the father." Most likely.

Andy scoffed a chuckle, “I know. How's that for your ten percent?” 

Her lips quivered and Y/n felt like the room was spinning. As heavy breaths threatened to turn into a full on panic attack, she reached for the back of the closest chair for support. “What?”

“I know,” Andy repeated, licking his lips before he stood, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, “I know...everything. About James; the accident and his……little problem.”

Slapping her hand to her mouth, Y/n emitted a choked sob. “Oh my god,” her words were muffled into her palm, “You knew.” Andy came to stand behind her, laying one hand on her shoulder while the other snaked around to flatten on her stomach. There wasn’t a visible bump there yet, but there was a distinct firmness that she’d only started noticing earlier the last week.

“Don’t touch me,” as a whirlpool of emotions engulfed her, Y/n shoved him off, “How did you know?” 

A car wreck when he was sixteen temporarily left James paralyzed from the waist down and had permanently left him unable to have children. He’d been up front about the whole thing when they’d first started getting serious, and they’d even had a battery of tests run after they’d moved in together, just to be sure. For years, Y/n had promised, him and herself, that she didn’t care that they would never have biological children, and for years, it was true. She was okay with it being just the two of them for the rest of their lives, she was okay with adoption if they ever decided to have children.

But then she’d seen that couple at the doctor’s office and the most intense mixture of jealousy and heartbreak had overwhelmed her to the point of wondering if she actually was okay with never being able to get pregnant, or if she was just going along with it because she loved him. 

“Give a dirty cop three thousand dollars and he’ll show you the world,” Andy taunted, reaching out to touch her face and clicking his tongue when she slapped his hand away, “You don’t have to be upset, I'm giving you what you want.” 

“I didn’t want it like this!” She laid a hand over her stomach protectively, “You can’t do this to me, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Andy stepped forward to box her in, “Have a abortion? I know you don’t want that, else you wouldn’t be here right now. And don't you think for a second that you’re gonna pass my baby off as his.”

“Who’s to say you can stop me from doing either?”

The thought had crossed her mind when she determined that Andy was her baby’s father; she could lie to James and let him think they’d run into a miracle, or she could have an abortion at the women’s clinic and move on with her life. But Andy was right, she wanted that baby and lying to James for the rest of their lives wasn’t something she could bring herself to do. Their relationship had been built on trust and honesty, if they raised that child together and he somehow found out that it wasn’t his, he’d be devastated and everything they had would be ruined. 

And Andy deserved to know that he had a baby out there, at least, that was the fact that Y/n had convinced herself of on the cab ride over to the office. 

In an instant, Andy had her by the neck, holding her against the door. His grip wasn't tight enough to completely cut off her air, but it was firm and hurt. “You won’t,” Andy snarled, letting her throat go in favor of grabbing the the neckline of her blouse and pulling her up to his face, “You get rid of this baby and I will fucking kill you,” he shoved her against the door again, eliciting a frightened gasp, “And you tell him that its his, or try to run away or do whatever that brilliant little mind of yours can come up with and I will hunt you down and kill him with my bare hands. And you will never see this child again.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shuddered, voice quiet and scared. 

He was proving to truly be a monster. To be all the things she’d heard about him; the kind of man that could raise a murderer- because he was capable of being one himself. 

When he let her blouse go, his demeanor shifted completely. With newfound gentleness, Andy's eyes softened and he smoothed his hand over the wrinkles on her blouse. Trailing his fingers down her body he stopped to cradle the front of her hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles in the area a couple inches below her navel. “How can you ask me that?” He frowned, “I’m doing this for you- for our family. I just want our family back.”

A hitched noise contained in her throat followed the return of a thought she’d had back at his house; it was never about her. “I’m not her, I’m not Laurie.”

Andy’s long lashes fluttered as his gaze flitted to meet hers, “You’re not,” he agreed, touching her face gently, “You’re so much better. She was weak and stupid. She killed my baby boy,” he leaned his forehead against hers and while she was scared to the point of her blood running like ice water, Y/n didn't dare move away, “But you’ll protect our baby, I know it. You'll be such a good wife and an even better mother, I knew it from the moment we met.”

“I love my fiancee,” she whimpered. 

“No,” his mood shifted suddenly and Andy grabbed her by the shoulders, holding Y/n to the door, though not violently. “I see the way you look at me. You feel the same way I do,” he pressed urgently, “This is the way its supposed to be.”

“This the way you made it,” Y/n counted fearfully. 

He scoffed, bemused again, “Call it divine intervention.” Though his grip on her shoulders was bruising, Andy used his thumb to trace affectionate circles into the fabric of her coat, "Now,” his tone dropped again, “I’ve told you what happens if you make the wrong decisions. So you’re going to do as I say, and we’re going to fix this, together.”

[v1neyy]

skizzpulse 12!!

They srsly make me ill like I need to put them in a paper shredder and turn them into confetti so bad. Also I may slow down on these for a while bc I have like… quite a few fic exchange gifts to write!!

Skizz/Impulse - #12, a kiss in the rain.

WC: 464 || original post!

—————

Impulse is sorting through his chests when the pistons of his door open up behind him. He doesn’t mind that people steal from him, but he does wish they would put things back in the correct place. He turns around to say hello and is met with a completely drenched Skizzleman.

“Hey buddy!”

He walks up to the angel, “Why are you soaked?”

Skizz chuckles, “I was hangin’ in the rain!” he shakes his wings, making water spray everywhere around the room, effectively getting Impulse wet.

He yelps at the water, a very manly yelp mind you, holding his hands out in a pathetic attempt to stay dry. “Skizz!”

The man grabs his hand and starts dragging him towards the door. “C’mon, out we go, you’re already wet anyways!”

Impulse sighs and lets himself be dragged outside. Rain is falling in a downpour, pounding against the roofs of the buildings that live in the cyber city. Hopefully he made them waterproof enough.

Once Skizz is done dragging him he lets go of his hand (which Impulse misses more than he should) and turns to face him. “What do we do now?”

“I dunno. Just wanted to do something,” Skizz shrugs.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Impulse shivers. “Well I’m cold,” He makes his best pouty face.

A damp wing wraps itself around Impulse. For the second time tonight he yelps at Skizz, the cold seeping from the feathers into his skin. The angel gives him a cheeky smile, “This better?”

He narrows his eyes. “No. This is worse, actually.”

The second wing wraps around him and pulls him closer, making him chest to chest with Skizz. Butterflies fill his stomach.

“How about now?”

Impulse rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,”

Skizz gasps in mock offense, “Hey! Don’t give me attitude, I’m helping!”

Raindrops land on Skizz, looking almost like tears. It’s a bit mesmerizing to Impulse, how his friend can look more angelic than he already does while not even trying. He nearly faints when sturdy arms take hold of his waist, spreading warmth.

“What- what are you up to?”

He gets a sly smile as a reply, “Nothing!”

Impulse is about to bark a reply about how Skizz is never up to nothing when he’s cut off by lips pressing against his. It takes him a second to process that the angel is kissing him.

Once his brain starts working again Skizz is pulling away, looking anxious. He panics a little because he doesn’t want this to end, not now, not ever. He cups Skizz’s cheeks in his hands and pulls him back into another kiss, this one slower and more meaningful.

When they part they both laugh. Impulse hardly notices the cold rain drenching him, the warmth from Skizz making his skin buzz.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Mikasa has never been popular. 

Never. Not once, elementary school, high school, summer camp, never in her life has she been the person people flock to.

It’s just not her, she’s not the girl everyone coos over and people yearn to be friends with. The best she’s got is Sasha, who to be honest more than makes up for Mikasa’s lack of friends, the girl sends her more memes than Mikasa imagines any large friend group would. One friend is enough. 

But maybe that explains why Mikasa is so ill-prepared to deal with the situation at hand, why instead of acting, she’s standing in the middle of the woods surrounded by drunken partygoers with her mouth hanging open doing absolutely nothing as someone’s piece of shit beater goes up in flames. 

There is an equally flabbergasted boy standing a few paces away from her, a very handsome one she notes as the flames engulf the old truck, illuminating the sharp angles of his face, casting his golden skin an almost bronze colour. “Am I just really fucking high, or is that actually on fire?” He asks, his voice a rich baritone, his pupils dilated so large his eyes look black in the night, barely a faint ring of green at the edges. Mikasa turns back to the rapidly escalating fire, pinching herself to make sure, “It’s on fire.” The boy beside her balks, “Is it… supposed to be on fire?” 

Mikasa glances around the gravel parking lot wearily, noting everyone that was around before has mysteriously disappeared off into the woods to join the party, “I don’t think so.” “Are you going to do anything about it?” The boy asks, almost in a daze and this time it’s Mikasa’s turn to balk, what the hell is she supposed to do? 

“It’s not even my car,” She responds defensively, her arms coming up to hug herself and they both hear the blare of sirens in the distance, hopefully the fire trucks. “So you’re just going to leave it?” Mikasa glares at him now, ripping her gaze from the yellow flames, “I don’t see you doing anything about it!” “Baby,” the boy looks at her now, his voice wicked as his gaze rakes her up and down, “I’m high as a fucking kite right now, there’s no shot I’m putting out a fire.” Mikasa hates how the pet name sends shivers up her spine, even more, because she can feel her pussy practically throb under his attention, because she knows this boy now, has seen him around her small town before. Resident stoner, Eren Yeager, and notorious flirt, apparently great in the sack and hotter than he has any right to be for a pothead. 

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Mikasa asks genuinely, her hands gesturing wildly as she turns back to the fire, because Sasha is long gone and with every second she can hear the fire trucks getting closer. Eren shrugs, reaching over to grab her hand almost unconsciously, “We should probably get the fuck out of here.”

And the next thing she knows she’s being dragged towards Eren’s own beater on the other side of the parking lot, a piece of shit jeep thats seen better days and to her dismay she’s being shoved into the fucking driver’s seat. 

“What are you doing?” She asks in outrage as he buckles her in with more dexterity than he should have for someone who’s probably done several bong tokes already tonight. “I’m high as fuck Mikasa I can’t fucking drive, do you know how to drive stick?” The suggestion is so outrageous she doesn’t even have any time to ruminate on the fact that he somehow knows her name. 

“No!” “Well, you’re gonna learn, get excited baby.” 

“Stop calling me baby,” She tells him poutily and Eren smirks as he climbs into the cab, his hand unabashedly grabbing at her thighs, “You like it baby, admit it.” 

She most certainly does not!

[labselkie]

THE NEXT BIG ONE! WHO BOOED!

i hate these two with half the fibers of my being. although i do hate some people just a bit more so maybe that weighs out! n e ways.. dumb and dumber week five

05/10/2018

Just at 10:40, a few brisk knocks sounded at Lucielle’s apartment door. Olivia looked out of place in the hallway, just like she had riding her bike to the complex, and walking down the hall.

She ditched the lab coat Lucielle was used to for a dark tan jacket. It was layered over a long, plant patterned high waisted skirt and a loose-fit button up. She pulls a light scarf through her fingers, waiting for a response. She had been there for ten minutes, deciding to get there just at the time she had planned. Maybe going early would’ve been better for Lucielle, she had always arrived early to their appointments, so maybe Olivia putting in that effort would show that she cared.

Although, the doctor was nervous, shifting on her feet and constantly looking around the empty hall every few seconds. Another minute, another knock, she thought she was getting ahead of herself.

But there was nothing, no answer, not a sound. Olivia idly reached out a hand, her left one still tugging on the end of her scarf. She can’t explain how her heart beats quicker, how her mind overflows with emotion. She swallows, her hand on the doorknob almost shaking.

As Doctor Octopus, she’s committed plenty of crimes, dozens worse than just waltzing in to someone’s house with no ill intent. She still worries, though- What if Lucielle never forgives her? What if she was kicked out? Screamed at? She can’t help but panic, even if the last proper crime she committed was two days before she met Lucielle.

Olivia feels frozen, her thoughts running back to her last meeting with Spider-Man. She hadn’t been the one to initiate the fight, rather having to stop him from yet another attempt at wrecking some work. “You’ll only hurt her,” he had said when Olivia let it slip that she was meeting a friend, “It won’t work, doc! It never does.”

Her right hand tightens, and the knob clicks… It wasn’t fully locked, and the dark wooden door slowly swings open.

“God…” Olivia breathes, yanking her hand back like she touched a charged wire. Her brows furrow and her face feels hotter than ever. The cracked door calls to her, one magnet to another, and through the slit she can catch a glimpse of warm colors and bright windows. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever she could see, or whatever could possibly happen.

It was quite the quaint place, a main studio area connected to a bedroom and bathroom. She’s immediately met with vibrant colors and sweet decor, older furniture sets dotting the dark wooden floor. Olivia quietly closes the door behind her, surveying the place like an animal adapting to a new enclosure. She quickly locks onto the open bedroom door and steps up.

“Hello?” The doctor calls out.

Olivia lets her hand brush against a vase of fake white flowers on a table, and enters the bedroom. The faint sound of water splashing can be heard from the bathroom, and she has to tear her focus away from a tall bookshelf and the lightly colored bedsheets and outfit laid out beside piled pillows. A chill shoots down her spine, and not from the coolness of the room.

She runs a hand through her hair, freezing up right before the doorway. “If I don’t have an excuse, Lucielle will kill me,” her mind argues with itself, “I should go, I’m being rash.” But she still enters, and her eyes aren’t drawn to a young woman standing there.

Instead, she stared right at a dark harbor seal napping in an almost full bathtub.

The beast was as large as a retriever, practically motionless as it slept. Its pelt was dark, almost a slate blue, and absolutely coated in black spots. It was familiar, and as Olivia battled through her shock, a hand gripping the doorframe, she couldn’t help but feel excited that she was right about Lucielle’s mutant power.

Long whiskers rose and fell with each breath as it laid its head on the bathtub’s edge. Its back flippers faintly kicked whenever it exhaled, sending small ripples through the water. Olivia’s worried frown shifts into a weak grin. The sweet animal caught her off guard, and she has to bring a hand to her mouth as she holds back her laughter. A thin rug muffles her steps when she finally approaches the tub, and the idea of slipping out her phone to take a picture doesn’t even pass her mind.

She leans down, hands on her thighs as the seal sniffs in its sleep. Once, twice, then like a dog who caught onto a scent, its eyes flicker open. The beast panics, floundering around in its tub at the sight of Olivia, letting out a sharp bark and gracelessly slipping into the water.

Olivia steps back before she can get splashed, and she raises her hands with wide eyes. “Luce! It’s me!” She exclaimed as it tried to regain its footing, “Honey, hi! It’s ok!”

The seal was finally able to hook a front flipper back over the bathtub’s edge. It bares its fangs, out of breath from the sudden scare. It closes its eyes, and in a flash something moves- Not the seal, but something beneath its fur.

Olivia couldn’t see the transformation, no one really could, but in a quick moment Lucielle peeks out her head from under a now lifeless pelt. Her hair’s a bit disheveled, and she’s scrambling to cover up her body, but one thing shines through: shock.

“Liv?!” She barks, her chest heaving with worried breaths. Olivia takes another step back, studying the little lady below her. Lucielle has clearly just woken up, the makeup she had put so much effort into was smudged around her eyes, and it was a miracle that the massive pelt could cover her where she sat in the tub. “What the fu- How the hell did you even-“

Olivia’s eyes soften, and her face falls. Her lips part, and she fights to find her words. “The door- I figured I’d come on time and it was unlocked! So I-“ The women lock eyes. Lucielle had been crying sometime before shifting into seal form. Olivia swallows, unable to get that lump out of her throat.

Lucielle sinks a bit more into the bath’s scarce soap bubbles, pulling her pelt closer to cover herself. She sighs faintly, before mumbling, “I fell back asleep.. God, oh shit I am so sorry.” She doesn’t bring her hands up until she knows the pelt is tied just enough to cover her front. “I mean- You should be sorry, who would do that!”

“I am sorry!” Olivia adds quickly, unsure how to react to her normal cold demeanor shattering, “I didn’t want to be late, I can leave and call this all off, ok? You can go back to your little nap, and-“

“Stay.” The selkie butts in, finally standing her ground. She sniffs, taking a quick breath, “Please, could you just wait in the living room for a minute..? I’ll get ready, we can still go, I still want to go.”

Olivia raises a brow, and a small frown dims her expression. If anything, she was confused- Why hadn’t she been cast out, why hadn’t she been shouted at? Was Lucielle ok?

The doctor takes a small step back, adjusting her jacket nervously to try and keep herself occupied. “Do you want to talk about it here?”

“No, we can-“ Lucielle wrings her hands together underwater, “We can discuss it over lunch.”

Olivia found Lucielle’s small apartment adorable. It was a miracle how she could afford to rent her own, less than 600 square feet, but open enough to feel comfortable. The doctor stood in the main living area, barely leaning on the couch by the door. She could see herself here, sat on that very couch, over in the little kitchen corner, sat by the window with a mutant by her side. She didn’t like to settle, she was barely ever at the penthouse provided by Fisk Industries, but with that inability to leave her work came a yearning for something personalized.

Olivia removed her jacket, folding it over one arm and stretching out the other. The dark metal harness plastered on her back was faintly visible through the white fabric of her shirt. Her gaze trails the wall in front of her: a crowded coat rack, a grand set of bookcases around a quaint television, a taller potted plant, and much more. Apart from the bits of marine themed decor and small figures from movies or games, the place looked like it could be from a magazine. The last thing she picked out from the decorations was a familiar machine, the last functional light beginning to quietly blink in a quicker succession.

Ten minutes, that’s how long it took Lucielle to finally exit. Olivia whirled around at the door’s creaking, eyes wide under her large glasses. Lucielle was in the same outfit laid out on the bed: high rise, loose cut shorts, a simple pastel tank, and a necklace with a dark seal claw on its chain. Even if her curly hair was still damp, she seemed to put on a faint bit of eye makeup, like she felt the need to look her possible best at any time.

“Sorry again.” She begins, just standing in the doorway with the lamplight behind her still bright, “I’m alright, just- A few things went wrong at once last night, and then I got scared I’d be late.”

Olivia notices how the mutant stayed still, so as she turned, she didn’t approach either. “And then it all falls apart,” She muses calmly, glancing to her side and the macine she caught a glimpse of, “It’s alright, I get it.. How about we go for a walk, you can show me the way to that cafe, ok?” She wasn’t used to having someone to look over, let alone someone who looked out for her as well.

Lucielle took a small step back, reaching into her room to grab a little crossbody bag. She finally exits the room when she slings it on, and finally smiles. “That’s perfect.”

They were both silent until they stepped out of the building, and Lucielle is the first to chime in.

“Spider-Man,” She talks slowly, just as she tries not to walk ahead, “He found me last night, and he sounded scared.. Of you.”

Olivia was about to look terrified at the prospect of Spider-Man ‘finding’ Lucielle, but at the rest of the story, she just frowned. “So that’s why you had the Observation Device, I didn’t even notice he took it yesterday.”

“You fought him yesterday?” She turns her head as she walks, nearly hitting her shoulder on a lamppost.

“He broke in.” Olivia corrects, fixing up her posture in a subconscious attempt to seem calmer, “I have no clue what his motives were, but yes, I fought him yesterday..”

“And…” Lucielle pauses to double check the road she’s about to cross, “You mentioned me.”

As Olivia follows, she’s still on high alert. Not for her surroundings, but for the emotions of the woman she’s walking with. Her brows furrow, and her lips purse some. “Not… Really. I said that he was getting between, well- ‘A friend and I,’ I only ever mentioned you were a mutant!”

Lucielle knew where she was going, so she was able to slow down and process at her own pace. “A friend..?” Tears threatened to well in her eyes, she’d be able to make an excuse that the wind made her tear up, but it most certainly wouldn’t work.

Olivia looked to the road, and stopped at the next crosswalk. “Mhm… A friend. I didn’t want him to trash the lab while we fought like usual,” She was usually the one to wreck the laboratory, “Because- Because I like your company, and I don’t want to scare you off.”

Lucielle sighs, rubbing a free hand over her cheek before her fingers brushed through her hair. For once, she was the one studying the other woman’s expression. The nearest traffic light flicked green, and the light across the street clicked to life. She reaches out a hand to tap the doctor’s.

“I’m sure I’ve said this before.. But it’s not easy to scare me,” She reassured with a smile, “I just forgot- I forgot you were on his bad side and I forgot about all the things you’ve done” Lucielle stepped out to the open crosswalk, and Olivia takes a quick step forward to catch up. The doctor’s thinner hand darts out to try and take Lucielle’s, and her attempt is met with success. Her cool skin against the mutant’s warm palm was an odd feeling, but not too uncomfortable.

“But that’s not all I am-” Olivia’s words came quicker after she took the mutant’s hand. As they got just a touch closer, Olivia could see the faint redness around Lucielle’s eyes from her earlier breakdown, could notice the strands of hair that just wouldn’t flatten with the rest of her curls. “It’s for work.. That’s all it is,” She wouldn’t admit the excitement she garnered from the rush of battling, nor the ecstasy of having so little regulations on her work, at least not yet, “Let me make this up to you- I didn’t know he would show up, I swear.”

There really was a corner bookstore within a mile of her home, Olivia would have to keep that in mind for when she stayed in Fisk Tower. There’s a cafe connected to it, and the store itself stretched across two floors. Lucielle is the one to open the door, gesturing Olivia to enter, and smiling when thanked. It’s not the largest spot, but with its connection to the bookstore, it’s more than enough. A few tables and even a set of booths, all lit from a few warm lights and the large windows near the entrance.

They’re seated quite quickly, with two little cups of black tea and a couple of pastries. Neither of them were used to this, Lucielle quietly adds some sugar and creamer to her tea, and Olivia just goes right into drinking hers. Lucielle couldn’t be upset for long, so after she finally takes a sip, she speaks back up.

“I wasn’t even mad about you coming in.” She says nonchalantly, reaching out to a small plate between them to pluck out an apple fritter. “There was just a lot going on, if anything, you smelling like coffee helped me get up.”

“You could-“ Olivia blurts out, “You could smell that?” She leaned forward in her chair, forearms folded on the table.

“Of course! Seal form, clearly.. Plus, it was new, I don’t drink coffee so I know something was up.” Lucielle takes another drink, and finally goes to bite her pastry before saying, “That’s why I got you the bag with the least caffeine too.”

Olivia almost chokes on her sip, before finally getting it down and laughing. “God, Luce- I thought you were devastated this morning!”

Lucielle took a big bite of the fritter, snickering to herself. “I was… But seeing you made it much better.”

[crazylittlejester]

So to had another plot bunny that grew somewhat right after sharing the last idea with you!

So we both agree that Wars would be a girl dad. That much is set in stone for me. But then I had a thought! Wars carries all this guilt after the war. Many people died in battle, but many more also died to sickness (this is a personal headcannon of mine since major wars often lead to the spread of disease. Like with influenza and WW2). So one day or another he gets to chatting with one of the soldiers under his command and it's brought up that this guy and his wife are expecting a kid! Man is super excited to see the end of the war and hopefully be home in time to see the birth of his kid.

But since I can't let anyone ever be happy apparently when I write, the soldier ends up dying in battle. The war was almost done at that point then too. Warriors gets to witness it too. (Poor Wars. He's my second favorite Link overall but my favorite to write. This seemingly has not gone well for him.) So Link decides that he'll be the one to go tell the wife that her husband is dead.

So he gets to the home and knocks on the door. No one answers. He waits a few minutes and knocks again, still no answer. He hears a faint crying from within the home. Wars ends up opening the door to the one room cottage. There he finds the mother dead to illness and a very young baby girl, no older than a month or two, crying weakly in a cradle.

Link of course ends up taking the baby since there's no one to take care of her, no even a nearby village. He decides to adopt her eventually (it's the least he owes with how he killed her parents) and give her one of the names the soldier mentioned he would have wanted his daughter to be named.

I do have more that I can share about this but currently I have run out of patience for typing on my phone. Hope you enjoy! (⁠ ⁠T⁠_⁠T⁠)⁠＼⁠(⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠ ⁠)

-Emig22 💛

(PS when I shared both ideas to my IRL friend they told me that I should combine both ideas and kill off warriors's kid. Take that as you will)

DONT YOU DARE KILL THAT CHILD. GOOD LORD, HIT ME WITH A BRICK NEXT TIME ITLL HURT LESS!! OUGH!!! i have a similar wip in my google docs, just without the illness part

i fear you ate, however i AM emotionally devastated

[fatuismooches]

heyyy basically

i’m feeling absolutely shit rn bc i’ve worked myself into an utter state (god i’m praying i don’t faint after my exam and nullify it) so like what better to do than to come up with a brainrot

just imagine, it’s fragile! reader and they’ve got an upcoming assessment, biggest of the semester but fuck they just can’t study. their headaches are debilitating and constant but they push through anyways because god they need to get that score. they can’t fall behind now. and dottores been watching you all day, he knows he can’t get in your way, you were practically unstoppable; it was one of the things that drew him to you in the first place. but rn? god rn seeing you like this planted a strange feeling in his cold excuse of a heart and he knew he couldn’t just leave you like this. without a word, he saunters over, and gently pries the quill from your hands, you protest but you haven’t the energy for much more really and so you let him. you let him guide you to the bed and you let him lay you down and slip in next to you. he wasn’t a man who thought much of ‘cuddles’ or whatever the hell you called it. yet he wraps his arms around you, gentle yet so firm you’d think a breeze could snatch you away. yet he cradles a hand behind your head and runs his fingers through your tresses, combing out knots, combing out stress. yet he presses you against him and lets the unspoken reassurances flow onto you through the way he pulls you under his sanctity. ‘don’t break yourself’ whispered his fingers as they traced meaningless alchemical symbols on your skin. ‘you’re perfect the way you are, you don’t need to do this’ reassured the proximity between the two of you. the only word that was vocalised between in the quiet sanctuary was your name. there it hung, palpable and present in the air. and nothing more was needed to be said

LOL SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG, can u tell i’m dying for comfort rn 😭

HOPE THAG MAKES IP FOR MY ABSENCE LMAOO

-🌕💗

🌕 ANON?? THAT FIRST SENTENCE IS VERY ALARMING PLEASE REST??? Studying and working are important but you and your wellbeing are more important 💖 Balance is key, please make sure to relax 😔 But the brain rot? *chef kiss*

If you had the energy to, you'd laugh at how poor your situation was. This... mysterious illness of yours just had to appear when finals were right around the corner. If it was just a cold or a slight fever, you could have worked through it, just as you had many times before, but this pain was unlike any you ever had endured. But anyway, surely you could get through this. It was only a few more days, and you absolutely had to do good. Especially since this professor was notorious for his long and complicated exams. Especially because you couldn't bear to think what would happen if you fell behind. What Zandik would think of you.

You could always tell when Zandik was looking at you because anyone really could feel the piercing stare he gave off. You two studied in the same room but in different spaces for maximum concentration and organization. You used to ask him questions and such but you've been far too quiet now for his liking after since you became sick. And while he does admire how perseverant you are to knowledge, he does not enjoy forcing you to go to sleep or watching you barely touch your food while studying. Even he has to acknowledge the limitations of humanity. No human can properly function like this.

The silence he used to crave becomes unsettling, and he shall tolerate it no more. You don't even notice him coming up behind you, thinking he's too focused on his own stuff, so when your pen is plucked from you rather easily you're surprised for a good few seconds. You're opening your mouth to protest but the words don't come out when you see the expression on your lover's face. Zandik gives you a look that you have only seen a few times but understands well - the one where he will have his way, he won't take no for an answer.

So when he pulls you from your desk and lays you on the bed, you can't help but mutter some grumbles as to how you were perfectly fine, and he did this kind of stuff before so why couldn't you do it, which he promptly shuts you up with a flick to the forehead and soft blankets. He doesn't verbalize it but it's because you are clearly tired and sick. You are sick with something he doesn't understand for once in his life and he cannot seem to find any kind of information or research or anything whether it was from hundreds of years ago to a few. And you are pushing yourself through it with no knowledge of the consequences, and no knowledge means no predictability. And then means there is uncertainty which he does not like when it comes to you. For once, he is unsure. Zandik does not enjoy that feeling.

When he initiates the act of cuddling you are surprised but do not question or tease him for once, as comfort was what you desired the most now. Your senses were all hazy from the onslaught of illness and studying and he was being so un-Zandik-like but you lived for moments like these. Your brain had trouble processing his movements but he was doing all the things you enjoyed, fuzziness and heat warming your body. You could make out the lines being drawn on your body, a habit he tended to do unconsciously. The rubbing of your skin in the sore places from studying nonstop. No words needed to be said. Zandik wasn't very adept with flowery words anyway, and you preferred it that way. This meant more than words could convey, and you fell asleep quickly in your beloved's arms.

Zandik looked at you, completely knocked out with not-so-subtle eyebags. Your painfully weak grasp on his shirt. You were far smarter than what a test said anyway. He himself knew that for sure. Maybe that final of yours will be postponed. Better yet, canceled. He'll see what he can do.

Whenever I'm in Sumeru I'm always reminded of how I'd NEVER EVER join the Akademiya because of how hellish it seems, so much work and years to graduate, too much thinking, way too many smart people there who would talk circles around me, uniform, studying, failing, no sleep, and then there are students like Layla barely surviving 😭 I have no talent but sign me up for theater 🙏

Anyway... I appreciate all short and long brain rots, they're so 🥰 I wish I could provide more comfort but... *hugs you* <33

[nuoyipeach]

Collision

Nakamoto Yuta X Park Sooyoung

warnings: angst, mature stuff, just a lot of complex emotions I guess (but happy ending) tags: @yutahoes

Yuta knew who he'd spend his life with, he already planned it all ahead with her. She was his first love, someone he felt like protecting from the world, someone he'd hate to loose. He was so irrevocably in love with her, he even begged for permission from her mother to let her move in with him before marriage because he missed her so much. With all his busy work days, he wanted to be able to see her even for a few hours if possible.

Sooyoung didn't care about all the insults thrown at her by her neighbourhood people. So what she's in a relationship with a chaebol, and one from Japan to be specific. She loved him because he treated her right. He wasn't throwing money at her, but genuinely loved her. He was there when she got fired from her front desk job, helped her get into an elementary school as a teacher, stayed over when her father was dying from illness, even helped with the funeral and stayed over until both women felt better.

It wasn't easy considering his job as the stand in chairman of his family's company branch in Seoul, and sometimes Sooyoung did feel like she took advantage of him. But he always made it a point that she owed him nothing other than loving him back, and that she truly did.

Especially when she moved in, she did a lot of domestic work out of love for him, and he'd spend every spare second he could have with her, especially at night when he made love to her.

Needless to say, the couple's life was perfect.

But things that are perfect always come to an end.

Yuta was surprised by his parents visiting, especially since it was for work reasons he was unaware of. He rushed to the meeting room, and hugged his mother upon greeting them.

"I hope you've been doing well son." the couple talked with him, and Yuta couldn't help feel anymore excited to tell them about the love of his life.

Until his father spoke. "Well it's good you're doing well with the company, but I've made plans to secure our branch here. One of our shareholders has agreed with us about it too, you will marry his daughter."

He was sure he fainted, but he was still sitting up in shock as his mother shook his shoulder. "Yuta, speak. Did you even hear anything?"

He blinked and realised his father had continued but stopped when they noticed his blank face. And now it was his turn to speak, angrily. "I'm not marrying someone I don't know! I have a girlfriend, she lives with me and I love her very much. You can't make me do this!" he yelled standing up. "I have a woman I love, she's living with me right now. Here I was thinking this was finally my chance to introduce her to you, and this is what you bring to tell me! What kind of parents are you? Didn't you even care to ask me anything about this?"

His parents stared at him in awe, shocked by his outburst. "Who is this woman? Is she of business?" his dad proceeded to ask, which only angered him more.

"Business? I never thought my parents were that kind if people. No she's not, but she's everything I could ever ask for and want, so I have no plan on changing who I'll marry."

His mother remained silent, but he could see the anger piling in his father. "We didn't send you here to run our business just to waste time falling in love with some gold digging b*tch! Break it up, or so help me-"

Yuta slammed his hands on the table cutting off his father. "I'd rather be disowned and lose my job." he said through clenched teeth, leaving before the elder man could have another say. He stormed across the building to his car, and drove speedily to his apartment, slamming the door upon entering.

Sooyoung jumped from washing her hands as she finished eating, running to the front door just in time to catch him throwing his shoes at the wall. "Yuta! You'll dirty the walls!" she went up to him and grabbed his arms, pulling him to sit on the bench and stood in front of him. "What's wrong?" she cupped his face. "Did something go wrong at work? You know being angry over it won't fix it." she tried to calm him.

Except the longer Yuta looked at her, the more his heart broke. He held her waist and pulled her close hugging her body, face buried in her tummy. She stood still, and threaded her hands into his hair, shocked when she heard him sniffle and her shirt getting wet through.

"Baby what's wrong?" she asked again. "Talk to me, you're scaring me."

He lifted his head and looked up at her, eyes red with tears. "I love you..." he kissed her tummy over her shirt. "I want to marry you. I want to grow old with you. I want to have kids with you... With you I promise. Only with you."

"Yes Yuta, I do too." she cupped his face again and turned it up to look at her. "But what's wrong?"

His voice shook. "My parents came... They want me to marry a shareholder's daughter... I told them no, but who knows..." he hugged her tight again and buried his face in her tummy again. "I won't do it... I won't leave you... I love you, I promise baby."

Sooyoung's mind froze. He always spoke positively of his parents, how did this happen? They were supposed to be welcoming, open-minded people. But they weren't. Her legs shook, and Yuta was quick to pull her on his lap, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck instead.

"I won't let them break us, baby. Never." he kissed her skin, content when she hugged him back. "No one can take you away from me." he kissed her lips, his arms tightening around her more. She pulled away and hugged him instead, knowing he'd always calm down like that and it's what he needed most right now.

Yuta stayed off from his phone for the rest of the day, following Sooyoung around the house as she did chores, helping her with a few to take his mind off things. Even as they went to bed, his phone was left in his office room while he cuddled into her arms, holding her tight to himself as the mere thought of spending a life without her scared him.

Sooyoung was in a worse dilemma. Even she couldn't fathom the mere thought of living without her lover, but she couldn't and didn't want to be the reason he breaks off from his family's well earned business lineage, especially not when he worked so hard to prove himself. She had heard enough stories about these things, and whether or not they were entirely true, she didn't want to be the other woman.

That is if Yuta even agrees to the arrangement. She knew deep inside he wouldn't, but she also knew his choices either way weren't any good.

Peeking down at the man who nuzzled into her chest as he slept, her heart ached. No matter what the solution was, nothing seemed to be a good one.

>>>

"This is Mr Kim, and his daughter Minji."

"What the fuck?" everyone was taken aback by Yuta's reaction upon entering his parents' living room, when his father immediately introduced the supposed shareholder and marriage prospect to him before anything else.

"Language!" his father yelled, about to continue before Yuta cut him off.

"Screw this! I told you I have someone, I do not agree to this marriage!"

He could see his father fuming, as well as the other woman rolling her eyes. Clearly she gained nothing from this but the title of being a business wife, that itself secured her wealth from both sides, and Yuta was far from agreeing to simply being someone's black card.

"You either agree or you're out of the family Yuta!"

"GO TO HELL!" even though he had just arrived, as requested by his mother for "lunch", Yuta turned on his heels and ran back out, to his car and again back home to the arms of the only woman he loved.

Sooyoung didn't know what to do as she sat on the couch and held Yuta, who crashed onto her the moment he came back, and was hiding his tears in her chest.

"Yuta, my love..." she spoke softly, sighing as his hands tightened around her torso. "Calm down please." she simply said whatever came out, unsure if anything she can say would make it better for him. And it further hurt her knowing if she didn't make a decision, Yuta would be the one hurting further.

As she comforted him to bed, kissing his lips softly to not wake him, Sooyoung left to the dining room and called her mother, explaining everything that had happened the past two weeks, and that she was stuck in a situation she didn't know how to navigate.

"Maybe his parents are right... I'm not for him, I don't know anything about this business world of theirs..."

"Sooyoung the biggest mistake you can make is listening to his parents." she sighed hearing her mother's reply. "You know Yuta more than anyone right now, you love him, and he clearly loves you, I don't know how to help other than to say make a decision that you think is best for the both of you, not just one."

>>>

It took Sooyoung another month to make a clear decision, during which Yuta had come home another six times angered by the same thing. One of those days she was terrified as the other woman had attempted to flirt with him and he supposedly threw a folder at his father's assistant. She knew this could not continue, and finally she made a choice.

A choice she knew was bound to hurt everybody. She could rely on just her mother, who was against her decision but knew there was seemingly no other way. It hurt both of them for having to make arrangements behind Yuta's back, but Sooyoung needed everything after this final week to be a clean slate.

Final week, a thing that broke her heart.

She spent the whole week spending time and doing as much as she could with Yuta, and as the week came to an end, the last day more precisely, she pasted a smile on her face the entire time while her heart tore up inside.

Yuta was more than happy this day, having spent all of it with the woman who owns his heart like no other ever had or could, and as he changed into his pyjamas, he was caught off guard when she appeared out of the bathroom, in his favourite white lingerie and see through robe, smiling at him innocently.

"Am I dead?" he gasped out as she walked towards him sultry. "I see an angel. If this is how heaven feels then God I never want to leave." his hands reached out and grabbed her hips, sitting back on the edge of the bed as his eyes still trailed all over her as if it was the first time he'd ever seen her this way.

Sooyoung chuckled, hands cupping his cheeks forcing him to look up at her. "Then you better be a good boy, so I can bring heaven to you." she slowly sat on his lap, and without another second wasted Yuta pulled her into a passionate kiss. Their kiss filled with moans from both as she started grinding her hips onto his, lips almost never parting until Yuta moved to kiss her jaw and go lower.

With her eyes looking at the ceiling, Sooyoung was able to quickly blink away her tears. "Yuta..." she looked back down, pressing her forehead on his. "You'll always be the one for me."

"Oh God..." he breathed out, kissing her neck while his hands pushed off the robe. "And you'll always be mine, my love. I'll never leave you, between heaven and earth, you'll always be the one woman that owns my heart and soul."

Always good with his words, Sooyoung found it harder to hide her tears, so quickly pulled him back for a kiss, pushing him back to lay down this time.

"I love you Yuta, forever, wherever... only you."

>>>

He should have known. From the start of the week until last night with the way they made love, Yuta could only blame himself for not realising it sooner. Waking up this morning to an empty bed, a quiet apartment, and finally a letter on the kitchen counter, he realised too late.

The reason she was so affectionate, the reason she was so passionate, the reason she was so intimate, it was because it would be their last.

With the letter still in his hand, Yuta used his other to swipe everything on the counter off, crashing all the items onto the floor as he let out a scream.

You may not make the right decision, and neither would I, but I don't want to be the reason you lose all that you worked hard for. I don't want to make you give up what you deserve. And before you think it, I don't want to be the other woman. We both know there's no way out of this for you, so please Yuta do what's best for your life. I love you, I still do and always will, I meant every word I say to you. You will always be the one for me forever and wherever, and maybe by some fate we will be together again. I pray for it, but I pray now you first live the life you deserve. I will miss you dearly my love, hate me or not I hope you can forgive me some day.

- Sooyoung

>

"Did I do the right thing?" the elder lady looked at her daughter as the two sat in the bus, their life loaded up inside it as they leave the town they had called home until now. "Oh God mum what if... what if I shouldn't have done this?" she could only sigh as her daughter broke down, even an hour after they've been travelling.

All she could do was hold her in her arms, hug her tight, and kiss her hair. She knew what she did wasn't right, but she also didn't know what would have been. There was no winning in this situation, and she only hoped they could live a quiet happy life in their new home, far from where her daughter's beloved was.

>>>

5 years later...

As the meeting came to an end, Yuta greeted everybody and left swiftly. Ever since he had taken over the Seoul branch of his family's business, the staff were shocked at how strict and efficient and particular he was in all his work. His parents no longer meddled into his life or business, though truly there was nothing left for them to meddle.

He returned to his new apartment, handed his bag and jacket to the maid, then left to wash up before heading straight into his office room, with nothing more than an acknowledged nod towards the woman he was supposed to be sharing his life with.

The young lady huffed and rolled her eyes, though inside she was hurting as well. She thought this was the life she wanted, to be a business wife who didn't have to lift a finger and spent her days spending her family's money. But a year into her marriage she realised how empty and worthless her life felt, and no amount of expensive foods or new bags and shoes could fill up that hole.

For the four years they had been married, Minji not once even held his hand, let alone share a bed with Yuta. She knew this was what she was getting herself into, he made it clear it was marriage by contract and nothing more, and the recent scar on his wrist during their engagement was enough for her to not further question anything until today. But now as she settled into her bed, in her room, she felt sadder than ever today after having met some friends, who's lives were busy with their own families.

After a lot of tossing and turning, Minji figured to just go for it, throwing on her night robe and heading to Yuta's office room, where she knew he'd be until late night anyways. She always wondered how much work he actually did for him to spend every moment in his offices, but she also knew not to question him. She knew he was unhappy, and the last thing she wanted was to tick him off. She stood in front of the door, and after some final hesitation, knocked.

"Come in." she opened the door quicker than she'd like when hearing his low voice answer, clearing her throat as they came into each other's view. "What is it?"

"I, uhm... I have something to talk to you about." she stalked in, and after seeing his eyes look at the seat opposite to him, she sat down. "It's nothing work related, but..." she trailed off, wondering how to bring up such a topic with a husband who's never even touched her by a finger.

"Well?" he cooked a brow, eyes drifting between her and the computer screen.

With a final sigh, she let it all out. "I know how it is for us, so I'll cut to the chase. I want a baby, a child of my own." this caught his attention as Yuta suddenly sat up straight and turned to her completely, though his expression seemed disapproving. "I know you hate me, you hate everyone, but while you have work to keep you busy, I have nothing."

"No." his immediate response stopped anymore words leaving her. "We will not be having any kids. You know very well I don't want anything other than that piece of paper tying us together."

"Yuta it's unfair!" this time she spoke louder, getting back up on her feet. "I'm sorry for the pain we all caused you, but I've learned my lesson, and I'm not asking for us to have a baby, I just one on my own."

Yuta's eyes were filled with rage and annoyance, but she didn't back down. "And how exactly are we supposed to make that happen?" he clapped back at her, shaking his head when she continued.

"At least help me adopt." his ears perked up at this. "You said it yourself, our marriage is nothing but a piece of paper. Well, help me adopt a baby by just being a father on paper too. I won't burden you with anything, I'll hire help if I have to, but I've checked and the chances of adopting as a single parent are very low."

She could see Yuta was unconvinced, and pulled out a final stunt as she walked around the table and fell onto her knees in front of him, hands clasped together.

"Please Yuta, I'll ask nothing else of you, just grant me this one thing. I know how hurt you are, but I've been sad too, and I didn't say a thing because I knew I'm part the reason of your pain. I promise I'll leave you alone after this, just sign this one thing and that's it."

Yuta saw her eyes welled with tears, and despite his hatred towards every single person involved in his life, he was not that cruel. Sighing, he motioned her to get up and back in her seat, which she did albeit reluctantly as she still couldn't tell his feelings.

"Did you find one yet?" her ears perked up at his words, but she hid her excitement.

"No, but there's a home in Gwangju, if it's alright with you I was hoping to head there this weekend."

>>>

The trip to Gwangju was filled with silence, even as the two freshened up in the hotel suite, which had two rooms separate as always for them. The morning of their arrival, Yuta had suggested they head to the home that afternoon right away, and Minji had no rejections to them getting things done quickly.

Reaching the children's home, Yuta noticed how Minji's eyes followed all the kids playing around the place, and he couldn't help himself feeling the same. He had always wanted a family, children of his own, but of course all ideas of those dreams were gone the day he lost his will to live. And as pathetic as it felt even to him, the letter was still always in his work bag.

"Hello sir, madam, please come this way." he turned to see a lady greeting them, and followed her to the head office room. The whole building was more of an actual house, and he noticed many adults along with the children. As they sat, the lady stood aside while the main manager came out, an older woman.

"Thank you so much for coming all the way down here Ms Kim. As we're more of a home than adoption center, it's rare we get anybody coming in."

Yuta's ears caught this and made him finally speak up. "What's the difference? I do see more adults here as well, are these children not orphans?" he noticed Minji seemed a little bothered by his question, but didn't pay attention to it.

"Well sir, we're more of a place for the less fortunate, we do have orphans but we also take in single parents, mostly mothers, who in exchange for their children being here offer time to work at our sponsors for minimum wages. It's not entirely the perfect life, but it's the best we do. We also get donations, like Ms Kim has been doing monthly for three years now."

Yuta's eyes switched to Minji, who this time avoided eye contact with him. He decided against questioning it considering it might seem strange to them that her husband had no clue, so he made a mental note to ask later.

"Anyways, the baby we told you about Ms Kim, he's about six weeks by now. His mother left him in our care, and we're so glad you've decided to take him in. With everything else, we were very worried on how we were going to watch a complete newborn ourselves."

Yuta turned away, looking out the windows at the children playing while the women continued their talk. He was here to just sign as the father, and that's really all he intended on focusing on.

Until a sudden call towards him took his attention.

"Daddy?!" the room of adults all turned to the door, where a young girl with long black hair suddenly stood and ran to Yuta, hugging his leg. "Daddy you came! Mommy will be so happy!"

"Haruka don't do that." the lady standing aside pulled away the girl, who only looked at her upset. "So sorry sir. Kid what on earth-"

"That's my daddy teacher! Mommy has the picture remember?"

Both Yuta and Minji looked more confused, but he didn't miss the sudden change of expression on the teacher's face, so suddenly looked at Yuta with shock. But Yuta had another thing in mind, as he stared at the child and thought further about her name.

"Haruka? Why is your name Haruka?"

"Because mommy said you liked the name." the little girl smiled back. At this Minji turned to Yuta, and for once she saw an emotion other than hatred or emptiness.

The teacher quickly carried up Haruka and was about to leave when Yuta stood and stopped her. "Where's her mother?" the teacher looked at the manager, who had a similar expression, both hesitant to answer. Seeing that, Yuta turned back to the little girl.

"What's your mommy's name?"

"Soo-ung."

At this the teacher quickly walked out despite the little girl's protests, but Yuta was quick to follow as she headed to what he assumed was a kitchen. He watched as she barged in, suddenly saying something as he peeked at her passing the girl to someone else. Unable to handle himself, he headed in, and suddenly everything around him became a silent blur.

The teacher gasped as he had entered, and the person now holding Haruka turned around. The moment their eyes met, Yuta wasn't sure if anything was real.

"Ms Lee, take Haru out with you please."

The little girl reluctantly followed the teacher out, not before waving with a smile at Yuta, and they shut the door behind them. Yuta still didn't know how to react as his eyes remained on the person in front of him, and followed them as they came close to him.

"I'm fucking dead aren't I, or dreaming?" his words came out soft despite the harshness, but he was proven wrong when warm hands were placed on his cheeks. "I'm dead... an angel is touching me."

"You must have been a very good boy then."

Those words were all he needed to hear before crashing his lips onto hers, arms tightened around her torso as he kissed hard and passionate, as if never wanting to let her go. Not again.

"It's you... it's really you baby..." in what seemed like eternity, Yuta felt emotions. After years of shunning away from anything and everything, he felt his heart swell up, his chest hurting, his eyes water. "Sooyoung, tell me it's you." he continued speaking through their kiss.

"It's me Yuta..." they pulled away, foreheads still attached as her hands cupped his cheeks again. "I can't believe you're here, all the way down... Yuta..." as if she hadn't been crying every other week, Sooyoung let go of all emotions as tears streamed down her face, and Yuta was quick to pull her into his embrace. The room filled with nothing but their sobs, Yuta's chest and Sooyoung's shoulder drenched in tears.

After some time, as they calmed down, Yuta was first to pull away this time and look at her straight. "Haruka?" he suddenly said questioningly, only for Sooyoung to nod with a half smile.

"I found out a month after I... she's yours, you like the name Haruka, so I kept it..."

Unable to control himself, Yuta let out another sob, but with a smile, before turning around and dashing out the door until he found the same little girl in the hallway. The moment his eyes found hers, he ran to her this time and picked her up, hugging her tight in his arms.

"Ruka..."

"Yay daddy!" the little girl cheered, squealing in joy as Yuta walked back towards Sooyoung with her, who came closer as he hugged both of them together this time.

>

Minji held the baby in her arms close to her chest, smiling ear to ear as the little boy's eyes met hers and she softly touched every part of his face. It had been an hour since Yuta left the room, so she had no choice but to wait for him to sign the papers so she could finally take her little baby home.

He finally did, and she could tell a lot had happened by the state of his red eyes and messed up suite, but she paid no heed as he signed the papers accordingly, just happy to finally be able to take home her baby.

But as they were about to step out the gates, she saw Yuta stopped and hesitated. She turned to him and followed his eyes which focused far towards one of the play areas, and recognised the little girl from earlier. She turned back to him again and saw how broken he looked, her heart in pain from it. Sighing, she thought something she didn't know would be right or wrong, but she needed to say it.

"Stay with them." Yuta's eyes turned to her surprised. "I'll be alright, I told you, I just needed you to sign the paper. You don't have to stick around anymore." with that she walked off to the car, getting in with the driver's help. She waited to see what Yuta would do, until a woman came out and spoke to him.

Minji may have never seen her before, but she was clever to notice the look in Yuta's eyes at the sight of the woman and immediately knew her identity. They had a talk, Yuta looking defeated, and it ended with her giving him a sad smile before he walked back to the car too, much to Minji's surprise.

"I thou-"

"Head back to the hotel, we leave tonight."

>>>

It had been a week, and no matter how happy Minji was with her baby, she was still bothered by what had happened with Yuta. He became even more cold and distant, and whatever hope she had that the baby would somehow get him to care was all in vain as he did not once look its way.

Having had enough, she stormed into his office one night, after putting the baby to sleep, catching him off guard. "Look, I know you're suffering, I understand you're in pain. But what I don't get is why you didn't do something when you finally found them. You could just be with them, no one would care, or you could bring them back here. Why is it so hard for you to make these choices?"

"Shut the fuck up!" her voice disappeared as his suddenly raised, his hands slamming the table as he got up in anger. "You're nothing but a spoilt brat, you'll never understand! Until now at this very second you got everything you've wanted, so no you don't fucking understand my pain! You never will, so just shut up and get back to your baby!"

She stood still in her spot, unable to move in fear even though he told her to leave. Yuta growled before sitting back down, leaning his head back eyes closed and rubbing his temples.

"Then make me understand..." he looked at her annoyed as she spoke softly. "Why don't you be with her?"

"Because she was right." he spat out, tired. "She's not for this world of ours, she's too good for it. And I'm not going to drag someone down to our level of low morality and make her the other woman, no matter how much we love each other, no matter how much I crave to be with her and my child, I will never put her through that. If I can't make her my all, I'd rather not make her anything at all."

>

"Why can't we see daddy again?" Sooyoung's heart broke at her daughter's words. Two weeks later and she still craves to be with her father despite only ever meeting him once. "I miss my daddy..."

"Me too baby..." she laid next Haruka in bed helping to put her to sleep, while her mind was full of the last conversation she had with Yuta.

"I'm staying..."

"No Yuta. It won't be right, you're married. Even if you don't like it, you are, you have a life there."

"Then come with me, please..."

She cupped his face again in her hands, eyes teary.

"You know I can't do that... I'm sorry Yuta, but I care too much about my own dignity to be the other woman, and especially not with Haruka around anymore."

She knew it was selfish of her, but she also knew it was the better choice, especially for her daughter. She knew Yuta was hurting, and she simply prayed he would come back to at least visit, hoping to not break his daughter's heart.

>>>

Maybe it was the new motherhood, or maybe something else, but as she celebrated her son's 6 month birthday, Minji had a sudden thought as she noticed Yuta's absence again. She looked to see her parents playing with her son, and she realised not only was her husband absent, but so were her in-laws.

As night approached and she put her son to sleep, she took a deep breath taking out papers from her bag she had taken earlier that day from her lawyer. Maybe it really was the motherhood, because for a while she thought about her future and there was always one thing she didn't want in it.

To see her son in pain.

And she realised, understood, just how much pain she and the two families had caused so many people. Yuta, Sooyoung, Haruka, and if she continued to live the way she did, her own son too. A missing father was bad enough, but she knew that a present father ignoring the child's existence would be just as worse.

She headed to Yuta's office with the two folders, knocking before heading in, and placing them on the table.

"One's for divorce, the other is custody."

As if for the first time, she was taken aback herself at Yuta's sudden movements of shock as he stood off of his chair and grabbed the two folders to open. But she composed herself quick before continuing.

"The custody is easy, just sign your rights away and I'll have full responsibility over Juno. For divorce I've spoken with my lawyer, it's best if we just stick to what we already own and split anything from either family you may have power over, so I'll keep my family's rights while you keep yours."

Yuta was listening to her, but still confused by everything happening. "You... want to divorce? Now? Why?" he stumbled on his words, eyes scanning the papers until he heard her scoff.

"You're right, we're people of low morality, and until recently I never realised it. But... Juno is my son, and I don't want anything to ever hurt my baby. Call it insightful, but I realised many things, past present and future, and I've decided the best thing to do is for us to split in the most business method possible to avoid any further issues. I don't want my baby to suffer, and by extension I don't want anyone else to keep suffering either."

>

Without hesitation, or even discussing with his parents, Yuta was quick to get their divorce proceedings started. He had his own lawyers look over the contracts, all surprised by how fairly she had actually written them out and even avoided any grey areas, and within a week they had both signed the agreements. Yuta only included one extra clause, which made Minji realise he indeed wasn't a cold-hearted person after all.

Yuta added on that she could keep and live in their current apartment, despite it being bought by him and under his name. But Yuta was ready to give it up and go back to his old place, the one he shared with the woman he loved, the one he called home.

During their engagement, he bought the new apartment just to move out of his old one, he simply couldn't imagine having anyone else live there that's not Sooyoung. Now that his marriage is over, he had no need for his current place, and feeling Minji would require a place to her own anyways decided to just give it to her.

Of course the news reached their parents, and while Minji's side were saddened yet supportive of her, Yuta's parents threw a fit, to the point they flew over just to yell at their son.

But Yuta knew all their words were empty. They no longer had control over his position at his branch considering they handed the whole control to him as a wedding gift, so he smirked as he called up security to his work office. He didn't actually want them dragged out, but he knew it was enough to scare them.

"What will people think of you? Of us?! You even had a child!" his father yelled.

"Correction, she had a child. I just helped her get one without laying a finger on her these past four years. Now please leave my office, I have an important trip to make." Yuta motioned them towards the door with his hand, where security had just arrived and awkwardly stood.

"Why did this even happen?" his mother finally spoke. "How did it come to this point?"

"Easy, unlike you, Minji had some common sense left in her and realised the right thing to do, at least for herself. What kind of couple do you think we'd be if we hadn't ever held hands in public even." he started grabbing his things into his bag, looking at his parents to see their angered and distraught faces.

"What trip are you even doing?"

Closing up his bag, Yuta smiled. A happy smile, at the thought of what tomorrow may just be like for him. The life he wanted, albeit he missed many things, but better late than never.

"I'm going to retrieve something important, something none of you will ever lay a word on ever again."

>

It was closing time for the home, and after settling in the residing children to their beds, Sooyoung cleared away her things and Haruka's before heading out to find her daughter so they could go home themselves. It wasn't that hard for her mother to settle down here, and she was glad for it even if she still didn't feel at home herself.

"Haru, baby." Sooyoung called out as she searched for her daughter along the hallways. Confused by the silence, she noticed people standing at the entrance and decided to check. Their manager, other teachers, and a few of the mothers had been standing there, all with emotional eyes, and she finally heard her daughter's voice.

"Daddy I'm so happy! Are we really going back with you? Yay!"

Her eyes widened as she looked outside to see her daughter being spun around in her father's arms. "Yu... Yuta?" she felt a push, turning to see one of the mother's urging her to go. They all knew about her story, so it was no surprise they were all ecstatic over Yuta's return to their lives.

The said man finally turned to see his long lost lover approaching them slowly, and carefully put down his daughter before heading towards her and pulling her into a hug.

"It's over Sooyoung. I can make you my all again. It'll just be you and me, and our future. I promise."

>>>

so funny story, I had the first idk 10%? written out for almost 2yrs in my drafts... and for some reason this exam season got me so pumped I finished the entire rest in 2 days🤡 so yea hope you all loved it as much as I do hahahah, ignore errors pls