#im listening to peaceful sleep again and SOBBING

[sphylor]

god i miss the Vengolor borthers so much...

[gutterfuuck]

you have literally infiltrated my brain with bff mark it’s not even funny 😭😭 where tf is my childhood best friend who is literally obsessed with me, thinks we’re soulmates, will scare off anybody who gets too close to me, and thinks he absolutely knows what’s best for me?? like??? helloooo??

-🎀

bowtiful anon!! i see your ask and i raise you this:

“KNEESOCKS”

“when you know who’s calling even though the number is blocked—!”

mark finds out you have found out that you have a creepy stalker.

cw: MDNI!!!, more bff!mark, somno (making out), religious themes(?), worship, short drabble, reader knows mark is invincible but not essential to story.

side note that has nothing to do with this story whatsoever: mark would most definitely pick out your outfit for the day and look over at you with lovey eyes as he lets you try his ice cream, feeding you with the spoon… idk just an idea haha

you had a stalker.

you knew you had a stalker, there was no way you were going crazy. messages would flood your phone at night time, every time you would block one number another would pop up. this was getting scary.

3am, saturday morning. your messenger app started to blow up.

ding.

— you’re like a god to me, you’re my saviour.

ding.

— i need you so bad it’s driving me insane.

ding. ding, ding, ding-

you had enough. you put your phone on do not disturb, going straight to your phone book app and flicking through your recently called until you saw mark’s name, pressing the screen and listening to the dialling sounds of your phone, waiting for the ‘calling…’ under his name to turn into ‘0:00’ to signify that he had picked up.

“y/n..?”

yes.

“mark? oh- mark it’s horrible i’m- please can you just come over..! i’ll tell you when im-“

tick, tick, tick.

your head shot over to your window, getting up off of your bed and opening your curtains to see your best friend floating outside the glass, concern plastered on his face as you quickly scrambled to open the latch, pulling open the window and grabbing onto his hand to bring him inside. you threw your arms around his shoulders and planted your face in his chest with a sob, his arms wrapping around you like a safe cocoon, stroking the back of your head and shushing you.

“what’s wrong? jesus christ, you’re not hurt are you?” he asks, pulling away from you for a minute to observe your shaking figure. you shook your head, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your pajama top. “i think- i think i have a s-..stalker-!” you squeaked out, struggling to admit your fear to him. his face contorted in anger, jaw clenched and teeth gritting, “what? wait, who, do you know who!?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowing when you shook your head. “i’ll find them, y/n. i promise- i’ll get on it first thing in the morning.” he reassured you, guiding you over to sit on your bed and swiping his thumbs under your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“please stay with me…” you said in between little sobs, getting back under your covers and resting your head on your pillow. mark nodded, of course he would, leaving you was out of the question. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll kill whoever they are.” he laid next to you on top of the covers, eyes fixed on you as you thanked him, wished him a good night and slowly slipped back into sleep, smiling before you lost yourself in dreams again.

4:30am.

mark never took his eyes off of you, watching as your chest raised up and down as you lightly snored, cutely even. you looked so peaceful like this, you had yourself out with your little sobs. he placed his hand on your cheek, leaning in to plant a kiss on your open mouth. “i’ll keep you safe forever,” he whispered, head pressed against yours. “you don’t ever have to be scared, not when i’m here.” he continued, tongue sliding between and past your lips. you mewled in your sleep, tongue moving involuntarily against his own. mark pulled away, tugging down the covers and observing your thin pajama jumper, your nipples hardening underneath the material. he wanted to suck on them, leave wet patches on your shirt from wetting them through the material. you were a heavy sleeper, mark knew that all too well.

“you’re my muse,” he breathed, hands tracing over your sleeping body with messy desperation, “you saved me, so i’ll save you… saved me like-… a god..” he finished, looking down on you beneath him.

“i’ll keep you safe from everything apart from me.”

[arinzu]

'den engel austricken und den kaiser behandeln'

Synopsis 'make way to the young emperor' the townsfolk screamed not with joy but terror and fright, he didn't mind it... after all he was chasing an angel still fresh and pure.

Intro / P1. / P2. /bonus!. (Coming soon!)

Featuring. Michael kaiser, fem!reader (but im trying to make reader genderless)

Warnings. manga spoilers if you squint, some angst, minor cursing

Tropes. Famous x Famous, Novel writer x Football player, Listener x Yapper, treat or tricking

total words : 1.4k+

You are currently writing a continuation to your novel, "Die with you" a universe where 2 characters died during an apocalypse. They sadly didn't confess their love for one another, but due to the fandom's plea and the many edits you saw of the two characters dying with the song "die with a smile" playing. You and the upper ups decided to make a sequel.

This time in this novel they will fall in love and have their happy ending, you already have the plot down, an illegitimate child falling in love with a commoner who had her mother arrested for being a "witch".

...

"The moon was shinning, stars were igniting with light, a child and their mother lay on a thin towel-liked matres.

The child begged her mother to tell her a story before she goes to sleep. The mother giving in to the constant nagging, slowly hold their hand and started to close her eyes. They could see the worry in her eyes as she plastered out a smile for them.

'Once upon a time there was an emperor who ruled over a kingdom with grace, yet behind the doors of his palace he was a heartless king, he was not more than a arrogant prince that ascended the throne with violence.' this was the fairy tale told by the protagonist's mother.

It was a weird one, unlike the others before about 'Love, friendship and peace' this specific tale talk about 'Violence, isolation, and some sort of corruption"

"It could be due to the lack of love he had as a child, or maybe he never actually knew how to express love" the mother continued, shaking in the dimly lit room, still plastering a smile. "But one day he will capture an angel who will set his soul free, they rule over the kingdom with pride but once again not all happiness will last-"

A loud banging started echoing in the very house they were raise in, screams, yells, all sort of stuff, yet it was muffled by the walls.

Their mother started to tell the tale faster, "he will grow tired of her presence and slowly starts to find another. This will last until he finds himself at peace with no other but himself, he will set his own soul free and the angel he will finally love..."

Suddenly the doors was busted open and comes the royal knights and villagers screamed

"Burn the Witch!"

"Burn her at the stake!"

In a blink of an eye, their mother was taken away by the knights... they saw her trying to fight them with all her strength, but it was all for nothing. They ran trying to free their mother from the knights , it didn't help at all but worsen the situation.

They were toss around as the villagers started to the gather around her screaming that she was a witch.

They sob, yelling out for their mother, tears filled up their own eyes and some even started flowing down their cheeks.

As a child they have no clue what was happening... but they saw the bitter smile she had, not answering the allegations.

But one of the knights finally noticed them, they begged them to set their mother free, however the knight did not care about their sob and cries but forcefully started to dragged them with .

As the child tried to resist, they bit the knight gloved covered hand, it hurt as they kept digging their teeth further in. Unluckily they bit on the metal part, that cause them to have a metallic taste and it did nothing to help."

You mindlessly typed the keys inside your laptop, the sound of each word being typed out seeming more loud than usual. Word after word was carefully thought after yet everything felt so empty.

Your fiance, Kaiser watched in a distance as you sighed your face in turning in despair look.

"You should continue with that look..." you hear kaiser say smirking.

Ignoring his comment you typed away, you kept pausing before entering another word. Each pause being longer than before, you had no motivation to continue, repeating words in your head but before you could typed it in you forgot.

Tapping your now remove hand on the table, you look towards kaiser which you can vividly see his smile.

"Kaiser, let's go treat or tricking? It's been a while-"

"Nah i don't feel like it, plus too many candi-"

"I did not ask you, we're going michael"

"Your so sassy (reader), plus we don't even have costumes"

"You have your jersey?"

"Yes why wouln't i?"

"Your going as yourself and i'm going as your blue rose."

"how are you gonna do that-"

"Makeup and i have a blue dress with blue roses"

"That's pretty boring"

"Unless you want to be the emperor... and ill be your empress-"

"Bet. i got the best costume"

Kaiser started bouncing away, not really just excitedly walk off leaving you in the now empty room.

You got up and started walking off to your and kaiser's bedroom to change your baggy clothes to something an empress would wear..

Finishing the last step of your makeup, you look towards kaiser using the mirror, kaiser looked as handsome as ever, you can clearly see him admiring himself. Posing, showing off his tattoo, bla bla bla.

"Hey (reader) it's not nice to not compliment the person your looking at" he said in a scoffing tone, clearly joking.

"Maybe if you compliment your queen first, she'll give you the compliment."

Kaiser chuckled "Warum sollte ich dir ein Kompliment machen, wenn du doch schon die schönste Königin bist, die es gibt?"

translate : Why should I compliment you when you're already the most beautiful queen there is?

You rolled your eyes giving in "your the only emperor i'll always and only love, mihya" you saw kaiser blushed ever so slightly, you truly love him

"Are you done? i need to touch up my eyeliner"

"Yeah do watcha want, God's chosen emperor, be quick tho"

He gave a nod and you walked away.

Treat or tricking is hella fun, the candies, the costumes of others.

You and kaiser went from door to door asking the the typical question "Trick or Treat"

As you both we're walking to the next house, kaiser started talking about how nothing is impossible and you just walk beside him as he yap.

"Do you think it's possible that we magically transported to the novel im making?" you asked

"Hell yeah, that would be sick!"

"I bet your gonna be the kid in prison" You smirk

Kaiser fell silent, you wondered why so.

"For stealing my hear, of course!" you loudy exclaimed, kaiser's gloomy appearance lift off and he gave you a smooch.

Both of you reached the last house before you proceed to go home, kaiser knock at the door while you stand behind him carrying the bag of candies.

An strange feeling cross your mind as the door cracked open, revealing a young lady dress up as a witch.

"Treat or trick!" you both yelled in unison.

"I choose trick! with my witchy powers" she laughed as she proceed to get some candies

The young lady smiled while asking "And who you might two be?"

Kaiser proudly said "I'm the emperor and they are my empress!"

"Awh such a cute concept! you two are a match made in heaven" you smiled and thank the lady.

"Here ya go! hope ya both have an amazing trick or treating!" she said as she had over the candies

"Thank you miss, but we're heading home now!" you said smiling while waving

she returned the favour also "I see then, safe travels your highness"

You both layed on top of kaiser's massive soft bed in a dimly lit room, kaiser continued babbling about how amazing the day went. you stared lovingly as he kept yapping.

Yap

Yap

Yap....

Yap...

Yap

Yap..

he kept on yapping, until you fall asleep...

You felt yourself falling and there seem to have to end.

The experience was like falling down a cliff, and no end in sight

It felt hours have gone by, you yelled out to your fiance convince this was just a terrible dream. But nothing happened, you tried everything

After that was a long pause.

You tried to open your eyes to see a deathly bright light suddenly flashing your sensitive eyes, nothing seems to be in your control, yet you could still hear some soft murmurs.

"Oh the witch's daughter is awake"

'Witch's daughter, what the fuck?'

You tried to scream but something was blocking your mouth, a sharp object seeming spiking your jaw.

'fuck... what is happening' your head was spinning

'What the hell was happening?"

HELLOOO!!! THIS FIC WILL BE UPDATE EVERY WEEK OR SO!

WATCHA THINK ABOUT THE BANNER, I THINK ITS SICK ASF! TOOK ME A WHILE SINCE I DIDN'T LIKE THE COLORS, i got lazy and stress since i was suppose to upload this fic yesterday :((((

Hope y'all enjoy this intro <333

[fanaticsnail]

Despiértame mi Corazon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,454

(Image Source: Actor: Alex Pettyfer + @fanaticsnail's dodgy photo editing skills)

Synopsis: You have been on the run from Donquixote Doflamingo, sheltering and caring for a young, sick child. Your emotions catch up with you as you process the change your life has led you to. You’ve left it all: family, career, friends - all to support Rosinante in his quest to cure the boy. Upon seeing you in this state, your Corazon will do anything to see you smile again. 

Themes: mutual pining, sickness, love, Rosi is a daddy, Rosi is a sweetheart, idiots in love, friends to lovers, Trafalgar Law is a child, baby Law is an edge-lord, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, dancing, Rosi is a dork, sad ending (I’m sorry), Dance reference link here.

Notes: This is a gift for @writingmysanity. You get two Cora fics, because we both need it. The other, more happy one, is coming soon, sweety!! 

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @vespidphoenix @i-am-vita @sexc-snail I don't know if you guys like Corazon, but I hope this convinces you to love him.

Song Suggestion: “Wake Me Up” - Postmodern JukeBox

The air carrying the tide towards your feet felt as thick and heavy as the encumbering weight on your heart. Frozen remnants of falling snow stuck to your cheeks, your eyelashes collecting a small amount of dust to coat your follicles in the crisp breeze. Aside from the peace found in momentary stasis, your mind was racing and your soul screaming for release. 

Trafalgar D Water-Law was dying. The boy you took under your wing, the child you cared for, the adolescent who held your heart in his hands was dying. He was not going to make it without consuming the Op-Op Fruit, a cruel reality that had finally caught up with you. 

You were so close. So unbelievably close to getting his cure - his fate balancing on the edge of a knife in the steely grasp of Donquixote Doflamingo. A cure like this was not something that would be gifted freely, both you and Rosinante knew this for a fact. There was no amount of convincing, scheming, bribing, groveling, or begging you could do to gather this cure for the sickly child you both loved. It needed to be claimed by force, and claimed now. 

Finding solace in the small moment you carved aside, you allowed yourself the luxury of hot tears rolling down your cheeks: consumed by the grief in the dire situation you found yourself within. You were simply unable to carry the weight of these harsh and raw emotions any longer. What began as a small sniff through your nose quickly and quietly escalated into soft sobs. As the sorrow was released, you felt the weight grow heavier in your heart and expand to encumber your chest.

Drawing up your knees and cradling them against you, you turned your head away from the shack as your shoulders shook with each whimpered sob. You desperately hoped to any deity that was listening that you were far enough away from your home for the night to hold your sobs in silence, not alerting or disturbing your two companions as they lay in slumber. 

Stalking slowly towards you, aided in silence by his devil-fruit abilities, Donquixote Rosinante was approaching you in your sorrow. His hand stuttered forward, wanting desperately to place it down on your shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze in consoling your release of your emotions. 

He, himself, knew this feeling, and he knew this feeling well. Giving into his feelings a few weeks earlier, while drinking a vast amount of sake straight from the bottle. He felt helpless in the overwhelming devastation that currently held the three of you hostage. Desperate to provide you comfort, although not desiring to give you a touch you were not expecting, he halted his movement from descending upon your shoulders.

Retracting his extended hand away from you, he stumbled backwards towards the shack to check in on the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Clambering up the steps, he looked over the peaceful form of the boy nestled up in his blankets to keep warm in the cool night. Noticing the fluttering rise and fall in his chest, the subtle wheeze extending and catching in his throat, he felt the return of helplessness overcome his body. 

Turning away from the child, his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the surface of the steely frame of his radio, flicking on the valve to wake its static call. He began turning the knobs, seeking out a whisper of a song to drown out his circulating devastation and distract himself with. 

The rustling static did nothing to wake Law from his rest, but did alert you of the fact Rosinante was awake and skulking around. Hastily drying your tears with the inner sleeve on your wrist, you ensured you were the very picture of positivity should the leader of your expedition join you in the cool air outside the shack. 

Your relationship with the younger Donquixote brother was complicated. 

Pledging your undying loyalty under pain or death to Doflamingo in your youth, your proximity to the younger brother had you develop the swell of infatuation with him. Through the years, your heart always had a soft simmer threatening to rapidly boil towards the surface. He was quiet, he was calm, his skills as a fighter were a privilege to behold in battle, and it was an honor to fight beside him. 

Under the orders of the older Donquixote brother, you had done  terrible things that required atonement to cleanse your hands of it. As you were both introduced to the young child who wished for death to claim him, you both became as hardened as the other to force the will to live upon him in repentance for your transgressions. 

Watching Rosinante take the lead in Law’s care, your infatuation rose once again: a rise which prompted you to cast aside your loyalty to Doflamingo and aid ‘Corazon’ in the task of betraying him. You were in exile, hiding while searching for a cure for the boy that you only now learnt were in the clutches of the very hands you were attempting to flee from.

You loved him. You loved watching the lanky man fawning over the sickly boy. It had your heart soar and fly ever higher. The way he loved with his whole heart had a ripple effect, prompting you to open your own heart to love both of them even more. When Rosinante displayed his heart, it was worn on his sleeve and given unconditionally. And when you saw this love for others, it made you long to be a recipient of such devotion. 

The rise in static volume prompted you to turn around, glancing at the looming figure exiting the door of the shack, a radio within his hands. He placed it on the wooden frame lining the porch and gestured for you to come over to him with a subtle sway of his hands. You offered him a soft, melancholy smile and rose to your feet from the cool sand beneath you. 

No words were spoken as you approached him, keeping your head bowed from him as the static crackled and roared to life. A familiar tune from your youth rose in the speakers, your smile broadening as the lyrics shepherded you into a gentle sway. 

Rosinante’s outstretched hand flitted fluidly down to you, a small bob in his head indicating for you to place your hand within his own. You returned this gesture with your eyes closed and shaking your head in disbelief at his invitation. He smiled, reaching forward his other hand down and claiming your unoccupied hand and began swaying you to the beat. 

“What are you doing, Rosinante?” you slowly hummed your question up at him, brow twitching up in intrigue. His warm smile pulled you in, alongside the slow shimmied-shake of his arms with your own. 

“We’re dancing,” he confessed with a rumbled chuckle, his toes accidentally colliding with your own: both flinching at the contact. He shook his head, adding to his answer, “I stand corrected: we’re trying.” 

Although the mood was filled with sorrow, the sway of Rosinante’s awkward movements had your smile rising up your cheeks and eyes drying of their prior downpour. A small swell in your heart at his attempt to make you smile had your cheeks begin to pull upwards by the smallest smile you could muster. 

Everything about the way he danced with you was stiff, awkward and rigid: a memory rising in both your minds of earlier in your youth springing forward.

“You remember when we first danced together?” Rosinante asked you, his painted lips attempting to hold back a toothy grin. You giggled at him, ushering his body to spin in your arms and gently twirled his body. The dark feathers tickled your skin, a sneeze rising in your nose in response to the subtle brush from the inky follicles.

“I remember it being about as ah-... ah-... ahh-...!” you sneezed, shaking your shoulders as you turned away from him to save him from the spray. He chuckled as you recovered from your sneeze, continuing, “-As awkward as this one. You didn’t have your feather coat then, either.” 

“Oh, right!” Rosinante laughed, twirling his body away from yours and removing his feathered overcoat from its place on his shoulders, casting it over the wooden frame beside the speaker. “Alright now, where were we?” His pink shirt dipped in his chest, the subtle rise of his lungs and exposure of soft skin tempted a warm flush to rise in your cheeks. You shook your head to rid yourself of such thoughts about your friend, recovering enough to plaster a small smile on your face. 

Swaying your hips and tapping your toes against the ground, you skillfully twirled your body to rejoin your hands within his. He gleefully laughed at your gesture, his own hips swaying to the beat and rocking his shoulders as the rhythm picked up. His knees were unpracticed and unskilled in this artform, but his enthusiasm overtook his inability to dance. 

Twirling his body away from you, he clapped his hands and began stomping his feet lightly on the floorboards. He tapped twice more before kneeling himself down on one knee, his other leg arched into a deep lunge in front of him. He placed his right hand on his hip, rising his left above his head and brandished it with a playful flourish. 

“Oh, we’re doing this one, are we?” your tone picked up, your brow arching on your forehead as you leant forward to claim his left hand within your right, “You remember how I tripped over your lanky legs when I did this last time,” you smiled, circling his body and hopping yourself over his calf lying flat behind him.

“I do,” he chuckled in return, following your movement with the lull of his head. His smile rose further as you playfully watched him from the corner of your eye. “You remember how we recovered, though? What we did to balance out the dance?” 

“Yes, Corazon,” you half-laughed, half-sighed, as you recalled how the evening progressed, “We drowned ourselves in several bottles of sake and laughed at our own idiocy.” Rosinante shook his head, rising to his feet after releasing your hand from within his. 

“No, mi amor,” he whispered, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from behind, “I meant this.” He turned you within his arms, raking his hands over your hips, hands circling over your waist and holding you firmly against his torso. You hooked your arms over his shoulders behind your head, shepherding him to embrace you further while swaying to the rhythm. 

Rosinante pressed his cheek against your own, your eyes instinctively fluttering closed as you felt the rise in his grin on your skin. His breath tickled the nape of your neck, you breathing along to his rhythmic pattern with each passing moment. 

You felt all of your worries cast themselves aside each moment he held you in his arms, all anguish and melancholy passing from your body and reigned within his embrace. The pressure of his own sorrows fled from him and onto you, the sharing of the emotional labor departed each of you in this moment to simmer and smother between you.

“Why were we dancing again?” you whispered to him, your lips almost making contact with the shell of his ear. You felt him shudder against your touch, instinctively pressing your back further against his chest and nuzzling into your neck. 

Spinning in his arms, his hands tugging at your shifting shirt as you turned to face him, his eyes widened as he sought out his answer to you. Humming thoughtfully, he finally located his answer in his memory.

“I think it was Doffy’s birthday, or celebrating a raid on some unfortunate-,” Rosinante began, halted by you pulling away and glancing into his eyes. 

“-I mean now, mi corazon,” you floated your eyes between his, looking for rhyme or reason within his steely orbs, “Why are we dancing now?” He stuttered in his sway, freezing like a fainting goat being startled by a loud sound. 

“Y-You called me-...” his breath caught in his throat, lips parting as he floated his gaze between your own eyes, briefly caught in gazing longingly against your lips. “You called me ‘mi corazon’, mi amor.” He held you in silence, his heart swelling and adrenaline urging his body against his will to surge forward. 

The air was tense, the deafening silence being broken only by the smooth rise in melody from the radio beside you. His eyes softened more, wordlessly asking you a question with his lips quivering and eyes frantically darting between your own.

A small nod from him, answered by a nod of your own was all the answer he needed to join his lips with yours, softly molding himself to your lips and breathing in your air. 

The world came crashing down around you, the realms of unanswered questions from your youth were retorted by the soft lips of Donquixote Rosinante’s pressed against your own. You squeaked against his lips, eyes wide and watching as, his were closed with his brows furrowing in deepest concentration. He hissed in a breath through his nose, turning his head by the angle of his chin to deepen the embrace. 

Raking his hands up from your hips, he claimed fistfuls of your shirt in his needy grasp. He whimpered against your lips, prompting you to reciprocate his passionate kiss. You felt his heart, his spirit and his worries pass from his body into yours further. This intimate and wordless confession had your heart racing at the impossibilities that brought you here. 

Slowly pulling your hands from his shoulders, you slid them down his neck and grasped the embroidered pink collar of his shirt and pushed him back towards the railing. As his beck hit the hard, wooden pillar, he gasped into your mouth and desperately clawed at you to hold you firmer. Angling his head away, he pressed lengthy kiss after kiss against your lips, cheeks and chin: a trail marked by his pink lip-paint. 

“I want you,” he whispered against your lips, hovering them above your own before pressing his own against yours twice more, “I want us. I want all of us-.” He peppered your cheeks with lengthy kisses, the smear of his lip paint rubbing against your skin and tinting your flesh. “-The three of us. I want to be our own family: go where we want to go, wherever our hearts take us. I want to forge a life with you and that kid.”

“What are you saying-?” you whimpered for him, your hands claiming his cheeks within them and ushering his face away from yours. He groaned, leaning forward and claiming your lips beneath his own before fully allowing you to push him away.

“I want to adopt Law,” he continued, his hand rising to your hair and caressing your scalp, “You already mother him, fawn over him and treat him like your own.” Your hand flew to his hair as he pressed a long kiss against your neck, “I want to do this, and I want to do this with you, mi amor. I want to marry you, to be yours and you to be mine.” 

“I want us to be happy, mi amor,” he concluded, a melancholy smile finding his cheeks as he dipped his brow down to seek out your eyes, “I will have you smile again: a smile mirrored between the three of us.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your brow, adding a muffled, “Three against the world.”

The shock of it all happening at once held you in momentary silence. Feeling the pull to confess your own adoration and wants for the future onto him, your lips formed words before you could withhold them in your throat. 

“When this nightmare is all over,” you gasped, tugging at his blond locks to subtly weave him away from your neck to look in your eyes. “When we wake up from the darkness,” you slowly caressed his cheek, your thumb finding his bottom lip and attempting to press the paint within the boundaries of his lip line, “I want all of that with you, mi corazon.” 

At your confession, Donquixote Rosinante’s heart soared for you and his tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. He truly didn’t know those words were needed to grace his ears and soothe his mind, but so thankful you formed them. 

He loved you from the moment he met you all those years ago. The urge to protect you from the evil his brother ushered into the world was so strong, he nearly broke the mask he made while infiltrating the crew. Seeing you hold your own against them, your skill in combat ushering a swift death to those who opposed you with mercy had him swooning at your kindness amongst the brutality. 

“Te amo, mi corazon,” you whispered, your lips again hovering over his own, “I always have, and I should’ve acted on it sooner. I just got caught up with the mission, with loving our child. You are doing such a good job with him, I want you to know that.” You soothed over his blond hair, brushing your nose against his while confessing your admiration further, “I love you, and I love Law so, so much-.” 

Surging forwards, the contact he made with your lips was wet: the stale aftertaste of his last cigarette was eclipsed by the salty tears falling over his lips. He didn’t know when his tears started to fall, nor did you grasp when your own intertwined with his against your lips. You laughed against his lips, feeling the lingering tingle of affection spark and ignite in your chest. He swooned for you, raking desperately at your body to hold you as close as he could without breaking through the material of your clothes. 

You broke away from his lips, gazing into his eyes with nothing but pure adoration and love. His own unspoken confession lingered in the air, the atmosphere tense and swollen with the lust-stricken adrenaline. The spark of the adoration tinting your eyes surged his confession forward, his words clumsily jumbled over his lips. 

“Mi tesoro, mi amor, mi familia,” he whimpered for you, his voice stuttering and stumbling over his words as he stooped down to you, “Te amo-... I-I love you. I love everything about you, and I should’ve told you sooner. I wanted to tell you from the day I first met you. I swooned for you when you danced with me all those years ago. My heart beats for you, and propels me to complete this task all the sooner to start this adventure with you and Law.” 

He pressed his forehead against your own, the feeling of hot tears rolling down his cheeks at the confession had you both sobbing and laughing at yourselves. Sniffling and collecting your own tears on your wrist, and he with his, you both glanced up at each other and allowed your smiles to rise. 

“We will get this done, Donquixote Rosinante,” you hardened your resolve, nodding through every word, “And when it’s all over, we will be una familia- a family, mi corazon. The three of us. Together.” You held each other close on the deck of the small shack: swaying between kisses as the darkness plaguing your journey was eclipsed by the light rising between you. 

Hanging on your every word, a small sob hitched at the crack in the door, Trafalgar Law’s hand clasping over his lips to mask his presence. Law had never witnessed so much love pouring from one person to another. The fact that you both held such love for him too had him openly sobbing at the interaction. 

He wanted this too. 

He wanted to be a family with both of you: two absolute idiots that loved both him and each other unconditionally. Two complete idiots who were hardened fighters, pirates, and war criminals. His idiots.

He wanted this so desperately. 

He wants his imperfect, perfect family. 

But some things were not meant to be. 

Law would call on this memory often. Each time that melody played over his personal radio, his heart would both consequently swell and shatter as tears threatened to pour down his face. He wanted to wake up, for it to all be some horrific nightmare and still be searching with you and Cora-san for a cure for his illness. Your love was real, and he was thankful to play his part in it.

However small a time it was, it was his. His perfect, imperfect family.

[helplesslyblue77]

Snow White Lily

first story in the ‘fairy tales with a twist’ series i’ve started(because i like creating more work for myself...) 

Pairing: Step Dad!Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 12.6k(it got out of hand...)

Warnings: Smut, like not in full but its still there. bad parental figures, slight mommy issues, reader has some self esteem issues, also...this story has so much crying, like seriosly. 

Summary: “Years ago, your father had died and your mother had remarried. You never liked your step father, simply because he was not your real father, and you made no secret of your dislike. Many years later, your mother died and your step father became the temporary reigning monarch. You vowed the feelings you were feeling were anger, but when you fall prey to a mysterious curse you realize maybe those feelings weren't hatred after all…”

Notes: soooooo...sorry this took so long. i was originally planing to post it on the 22nd but my computer died and like a fucking moron i forgot the charger...so yeah, so sorry about that. also Reader is more than legal. i ignored the traditional marriage laws of ‘yee olden days’ in favor of not being icky. her and Chan have a age gap of about seven or eight years or so.(side note but saw the barbie movie and fucking loved it, ‘im just ken’ has been stuck in my head for days now...)

♔♕♔

Let me tell you a story dear reader. A story of love, of loss, and all that is forbidden. Let me tell you of a beautiful princess who befell a dreadful curse. Let me tell you the story of Snow White. Now you may be thinking to yourself, dear reader, “But that is ever so common. How dreadfully boring.” I beg you not to jump to such conclusions, for everything you think you know about this lovely tale is, in fact false, and the real story will only be revealed today. So I urge you to sit back and listen to my voice as I weave you a fantastical story. 

Once upon a time in a kingdom far far away lived a young woman of only sixteen. She was as beautiful, as she was kind, a true princess in her own right. Her loving father, the benevolent king of the land, doted on her. Her mother, a woman of extraordinary beauty but unpleasant disposition, could not touch her as long as the king treasured her. And thus the princess was raised with love from her father and cold indifference from her mother. Each day she became more beautiful. 

Her hair grew long and luscious, her eyes bright with knowledge, and her body grew curves as she matured. As she grew, her thirst for knowledge also grew. Much to the queen's disapproval the king allowed her to take up such thoroughly un-princess-like activities as horseback riding. The queen disproved, but to her satisfaction, the princess also enjoyed activities like embroidery and fashion, so the queen let her wild activities continue. But alas, as our princess turned upon her seventeenth year, her father the king fell deathly ill. Our heroine could only stand by and weep as her beloved father took his last breaths, as the spirits accepted him gracefully into the world of the dead.

Ragged sobs tore through your throat. Your father's hand lay on your own, still warm even though life had drained from his body only moments before. The soft silk of the king's grand bed accepted your tears wholeheartedly, soothing your wet cheeks and stinging eyes. The bed held so many memories for you. Memories of you curled up against your father's warm body as he told you story after story, all in an effort to lure you into a deep and peaceful sleep. Memories of crying in his arms as he stroked your hair and comforted you with sweet reassurances. The realization sank in that he would never embrace or gaze upon you again. 

It took a long time for your tears to stop. The palace staff let you stay at the bed, even as your father's cold dead body was removed from the silken sheets, and life in the palace resumed. Only when the golden hour sunlight poured through the stained glass windows, painting the red silk sheets and the golden bed frame dazzling colors, did you lift your tearstained face from the bed and drag yourself to your feet. You stumbled out of the king's chambers, your bare feet making barely a sound as you walked listlessly down the large corridor with the heavy stares of your ancestors weighing on your back. Your hair hung unstyled around your shoulders, your cheeks were smeared with tears and your eyes red and puffy. You were clothed only in a thin nightgown and normally you would have been scandalized. It was highly improper for a princess to wander about in her underclothes, but you were so wrought with grief you could not even bring yourself to feel shame. 

Your maids were waiting for you as you dragged open the heavy doors to your chambers. You felt their pitying stares on you but for once they didn't say a word about your disheveled state, only drawing you a bath and slipping away as silent as ghosts.

With heavy hands, you rid yourself of your only garment and slipped into the water. The pink rose petals danced across the ripples your body made as you submerged yourself completely. You closed your eyes and felt the heavy hand of despair settle over you. Tear after silent tear slipped down your cheeks, dripping into the water below. Maybe, if you continued to cry like this the gods would take pity on your sorry state and let you simply slip away, let go of this painful life and join your father in the afterlife. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a princess, but you had never been a perfect princess anyway. Too unattractive, too outspoken, nothing like your composed mother, the epitome of a perfect queen. As beautiful as a statue carved in ice and as cold as one as well. 

You knew these thoughts, these ugly self-deprecating thoughts, were not true. But with your father's passing all your insecurities were rearing their ugly heads quite akin to a many-headed monster, dead set on devouring you and only you. You closed your eyes and ever so slowly let yourself sink down until your chin was barely brushing the water. You let the comfort of the water envelope you like the warmth your father had given you, the warmth your mother would never give you. And with one last tear, you rose from the bath, water cascading off your body, and came to a grim realization.

From this day on, you were on your own. And even as the room filled with people, your maids dressing you carefully, even as the mellow chatter filled the room, you had never felt quite so alone. 

The next day your maids prepared you for the funeral. As they slipped the black dress over your head, pulled your hair into a modest bun and painted your face just enough to be suitable for such an occasion you desperately held back your tears. It was no such time for your sadness, you are a princess and to reassure your people you must look only appropriately distraught. There would be no breakdowns, no hysterical crying and screaming, none of the sort. As the maids slipped your black veil over your head and handed you the black lace fan, you take a deep breath, and shove your feelings into a deep well, one covered in moss and ivy, simply for another day. 

A sea of black greets you as you exit the castle, the air filled with the cries of thousands. The day is gray as if even mother nature is distraught. Gaunt faces torn with sadness, the silent tears of men and women, the loud cries of children who are too young to understand but sense the forlorn atmosphere and respond. You take your place on the open carriage, your father's casket laying only a few feet away from you. The casket is grand, black with gold embellishments, but you can't bring yourself to look at it. It makes it all too real. Your mother steps into the carriage, her beautiful face pulled into its usual frozen expression. Her cold gaze drags over you, and you ignore her as she tuts disapprovingly but says no more. Even she can hold her tongue when she needs to. 

The carriage starts its long trek to the royal cemetery, and you feel every rock as it bumps slowly across the road. You watch faces flash by, each hollow with a sadness you feel in your core. The ride to the cemetery is excruciating, as the sky starts to rain, big droplets that splash against the casket, and down your face. You're thankful, as it masks your tears.

The ceremony is grim, and mostly a blur. You watch as a little girl comes forward, and with small hands gently places a single white lily on the casket. More children follow, and soon the dark top of the casket was blanketed in white. Your tears are falling more frequently now, your hat and veil long gone. But these tears, instead of being pure despair, are also interspersed with gratitude. Gratitude for your kind maids, who treated you with such gentle warmth, gratitude for the looks of kindness and understanding you received from your subjects. As you finally leave the cemetery you turn back, laying eyes one final time on the grim black coffin covered in pure white lilies. Your father's favorite flowers were lilies. 

The following weeks are a blur. The world seems to continue even as you morn, and you do your best to continue along with it. Your deep loneliness is pushed to the back of your mind and you soon begin to forget it. Months pass, and soon, your eighteenth birthday approaches. You find yourself engaged to a truly dreadful man, but per your mother's request, you are unable to do a thing about it. And then one day, your life changes forever. 

The royal dining room is large, with high arching ceilings letting a draft permeate through the space. A huge crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room, filling the large space with shadowy candlelight. Of all of the many rooms in the palace, this one has become one of your least favorites.

The large marble table is laden with food, untouched at the moment and the servants bustle around, serving wine and tidying various lighting fixtures around the room. Your mother, the star of the show, is late. You bristle, as she can't even show courtesy as the host of this sham of a party. Your mother has never been your favorite person, and as long as you have known her, those cold eyes, so dead of feeling, have always scared you.

The large doors slammed open and in waltzed your mother, her head held high. Your eyes narrow as you take in the full picture, the man escorting her to her place. He looks young, maybe eight or nine years your senior, and very handsome. With dark black hair and broad shoulders, he supported your mother as she walked across the room, pulling out the chair for her like a gentleman. Twinkling brown eyes and a sweet smile. Just your mother's type. Anger sang in your veins. How dare she bring in a cheap boy toy so soon after your father's passing. The man tried to send you a smile, but you turned, ignoring him. Your mother’s cold voice echoed in the grand hall.

“Darling, please welcome your new father.”

She didn't ask for your opinion, she simply barged ahead as she always did, as if you didn't matter. It angered you beyond belief, but it also made you feel so insignificant like you were nothing and if you simply went to sleep and never woke up, the world would continue around you, not even stopping to mourn. The room was dead silent as it awaited your response, eyes bearing down upon you. Your mother's cold expectant ones, the knowing eyes of the servants, the eyes of this new man. Emotions roiled in your gut and you stood suddenly, rattling the crockery on the table. You could tell your face was a mess, and you felt the tears start to slip down your cheeks as you ran from the room. 

You heard voices fade away as you slammed the door behind you. The worried voice of the young man and your mother's cold reply. 

“Is she feeling quite well? Was it something I did?”

“Don't mind her foolishness, she is simply a child.”

You fled down the hall, your skirts a whirl around your legs as you ran from the suffocating room. You were not a child, and most definitely not foolish, you seethed to yourself as you yanked open the doors to your chambers. 

But as you entered your room, all the explosive anger drained out of you, leaving only cold acceptance and resentment. It was childish, you mused as your stomach growled in hunger. You crashed face-first on your bed, your hair falling from its updo and pooling messily around your shoulders. 

Your mind was a mess, greatly resembling a dark and stormy ocean, a rocky shore tossed by tumultuous waves. Emotions raced through you, too fast to truly catalog. Angry thoughts of your mother's disrespect for your father's name. How could she bring this young handsome boy toy to the castle, so soon after your father's death? And to introduce him as your father? You vowed to never accept this man, to snub him at every turn and refuse to acknowledge him as your father.

(Somewhere, deep in your subconscious, you felt the vile monster of jealousy rear its head and stomp its many feet threateningly. You were jealous, jealous of your mother's goddess-like beauty, jealous of her power, and most of all, you wished the unnamed man could have been yours instead.)

♔♕♔

On that fateful day, the day your mother got remarried, you were notably absent. Your maids had searched and searched your usual hiding spots, but you were nowhere to be found. You were, in fact, in a very unprincesslike position, thrown over two bales of hay, your body bared to the heavy air of the stable. You lost your innocence to the handsome stable boy as wedding bells filled the air. And as you felt ecstasy, gripping the stable boy's broad shoulders, you couldn't really say you were sorry. At the moment at least. The lasting consequences were a bit of an inconvenience. The absence of such a notable figure, the daughter of the bride at that, sent scandalized whispers spreading around the castle. 

“The Princess did not show her face at her mother's wedding.”

“She must not accept this new man.”

The rumors didn't bother you but what did bother you was your mother's response or rather lack thereof. There was only a slight tick in her perfectly arched eyebrows as she looked down at you, picking at her long scarlet nails. You met her gaze head-on, never one to show fear to a predator. She looked over at you, taking note of your disheveled appearance, the bits of hay tangled in your long hair, the red marks scattered across your neck, and shook her head. 

She tutted disapprovingly. “Darling, if you must partake in those kinds of…” She paused, raising a perfect eyebrow delicately, “Activities…try to restrain yourself when you have official duties.”

You felt like stomping the ground, no matter how childish it was. Your mother always made you feel like this. Like a small, insignificant child, wandering about the world in dumb confusion, and not a fully grown adult woman. You opened your mouth to protest, but your mother waved a hand, dismissing you. You turned, your shoes pattering on the marble floor. You had just reached the door when she spoke last time. 

“And for god’s sake, clean yourself up.”

You slammed the door behind you and made the long trek back down the twisting halls and into your chambers.

All through the short and unpleasant meeting you had avoided meeting the eyes of your new ‘father’, but if you had dared to look, you would have noticed the pangs of hurt and disappointment flashing through his dark eyes. 

♔♕♔

Over the next few months, you did your best to avoid your new ‘father’. And soon, he gave up his little attempts to get to know you and treated you with the exhaustion of a man who accepted the fact that he was not wanted. Infuriatingly, he was never disrespectful of you, never treated you with contempt, and oh, how it angered you. It was hard to justify your hate when he was such a nice person. And so, a year passed, and then, only a few months before your nineteenth birthday, your mother died.

It was a carriage accident. She was on the way to a friend's house when the carriage was struck by lightning and thrown, burning, off the side of a cliff. It was a fitting end for your mother, fiery and dramatic.

 It was sudden, and in your opinion a much-needed breath of fresh air. Maybe you were a truly vile person for thinking this, but your mother had never truly loved you, and you most definitely had returned that hatred. But she was your mother, so even though you loathed it, you couldn't stop the few tears that fell at the funeral. 

Later that night, you go through your mother’s belongings and find a stack of leather journals, her personal diaries. Unsure of whether you want to know what these bound confessionals hold you let them sit untouched for a few hours. Finally, overcome with curiosity you open the volume marked with the earliest date and begin to read. As you read her diaries you let yourself cry in earnest. Your mother was a pitiful person, obsessed with beauty to a fault, and it in the end had doomed her, doomed her to a life of marriage to a man she didn't love, not allowed to love who she truly loved. Thinking back to the funeral you did notice the familiar and yet strange woman mourning your mother from the background. A friend your mother had called on at indecent times of the night. The pieces were beginning to fit together. You wanted to hate her, you really did, but as you read of her heartache, you felt yourself sympathizing with her. You hated that feeling, so you buried it deep in your heart, and burned the remainder of her diaries. As you watched the smoke billow into the air, you cried, your tears watering the vines choking your throat. 

 You watched in grim acceptance as Chan, your ‘father’, accepted the position of temporary monarch, at least until you got married. Truthfully, although you glared fiercely at him, you didn't mind. Being a monarch was a responsibility you were not willing and not ready to shoulder, and Chan was a fair, level-headed person. Those exact qualities were something you despised in him. It was hard to hate a man who was so easygoing and intelligent. But you hated him, you were certain of it. Every thought of him was accompanied by a pounding in your heart like the drumbeat of soldiers marching to war. When you laid eyes on him your body would flush with anger, your fists trembling and your breathing choking you with hatred. If this terrifying feeling was not hatred, you could not tell what it was. And you didn't know if you wanted to know.

♔♕♔

For the next several years, you settled into an uneasy peace, interspersed with dramatic fiery fights that left you running away from it all, on your favorite horse, and disappearing for hours on end. You would always ignore Chan’s worried face when you got back, intent on hating him.

You embroidered, chatted with your friends, rode your horse about the pastures, and begrudgingly met with your dreadful fiance. And just like that, four long years had passed and you were nearing your twenty-fourth birthday when Chan summoned you into his study.

You hated his study, hated how cozy he had made it with warm red curtains and dark cherry wood surfaces, hated the faint smell of woodfire, and Chan's deep musky scent that made you heat up with what you were sure was anger. You avoided this room of the castle at all costs, but even you could not ignore a direct summons, so you stood before him, avoiding his eyes. 

“Name, please sit.”

He waved his hand and you wanted to refuse, but you valued your comfort over your stubborn nature so you sat across from him on the red satin couch, munching away at a few biscuits and avoiding his eyes. You watch Chan’s hands as he places you a cup of tea in front of you, and pours his own. You take a deep breath, the sweet scent of jasmine, your favorite tea, filling your nostrils. Chan sighed, the breath gusting out from between his plump lips as he spoke. 

“I hear you did not attend your usual meeting with your fiance.” You do your best to portray your annoyance with your face as you speak, still not meeting his eyes. 

“Lord Brandish is dreadfully boring and dull, I just could not stand to speak with him again.”

Chan sighs a sigh of frustration, one that only you can manage to pull out of his mouth, and sets his teacup down on the wooden surface of the table. He looks at you and you hate the disappointment leaking from his eyes. 

“Name, you are nearing your twenty-fourth year already, soon it will be time for you to get married and take over rulership of this kingdom.” 

You hate how level-headed and smart he sounds, and how in comparison you sound like a dumb immature child. What makes it worse is the way he handles you, so patient even after you treated him with such disrespect. You slam your tea cup on the table, the hot tea sloshing over your fingers. You hiss at the burn and Chan rushes to your side, his strong hands grasping your own.

“Name are you alright? Does it hurt?”

His hands are big, much bigger than your own, and the comforting warmth envelopes you, spreading from your hands all throughout your body. The warmth scares you, but in a moment of weakness, you let him caress your hands gently, smoothing ointment onto the burns. It takes a moment, but Chan meets your eyes, perhaps wondering why you haven't yanked your hands away and stormed off. You find yourself wondering the same thing and hurriedly yank them away, settling as far away from him as you can. He seems to sink in on himself, returning to his seat and clearing his throat. 

“As I was saying, you cannot miss these appointments, they are vital to your future relationship with your fiance…”

He continues on, and you tune him out, your anger slowly building. How dare he, who is he to command you like this? As usual, anger is your first reaction, and you brandish it both as a shield and a sword.

“I refuse to go.”

Chan stops, his eyes meeting your own, and waves his hand around.

“Name, you're being childish. You must continue to go—”

You interrupt, your heart beating in your ears. 

“I refuse!” 

You hate your fiance, hate his crude remarks, his overall poor attitude, and the way his slimy hands feel up your thighs at every opportunity. Lord Brandish is a truly vile man, but of course, he puts on his mask, playing the part of the perfect gentleman in front of Chan and your servants. 

Lord Brandish appeared to them a perfect man, as handsome as he was kind, and they simply could not understand your animosity towards him. And to you, you would never tell. The mere thought made you feel pathetic, running to your ‘father’, admitting you could not solve all your problems on your own. It felt like weakness, and you hated weakness. So you bottled it up and did your best to treat him with absolute contempt, hoping maybe, he would just refuse to marry you. Sadly, that day had not come. 

Chan threw his hands up in exasperation, as you continued on. Your voice trembled embarrassingly as you jumped to your feet. 

“Who are you, how can you make me go?”

You could see he was finally losing his patience as he stood as well, his hands waving annoyed patterns in the air. 

“Name, I don't understand why you can't just listen to me for once!”

You are yelling by now, your usual defense mechanism, anger, spewing out of your painted lips like knives, flying at their target and embedding themselves deep in his chest. 

“I can't! I won't!”

Your words are basically nonsense, the emotions you had buried deep in your heart, all those tears you had refused to let fall, years and years of loneliness and resentment crawling their way out of your heart. Akin to ugly black vines, the leaves long withered, and dead, weaving their way up your body, tearing through your internal organs, and exploding out of your mouth in ugly sobs. You bite the sobs back, they were a weakness. 

Anger is burning in Chan's eyes. The two of you had indeed had fights before, but for some reason, this particular fight felt different. There was a quality in the air, floating around the two of you like a deadly wind, disturbing everything it touches. You were basically in hysterics by now, hands clutching and tearing at your necklace, and it was no longer about the conversation, no longer about Lord Brandish. This was about something much deeper, something darker, something you weren't ready to talk about yet. 

The vines were back, tearing at your throat and teeth, and in a moment of weakness, you let them out. All your resentment tearing out of your mouth in three final words.

“I hate you.”

They were words you had never dared to say, never quite believed, and the moment they left you, the moment you looked up and saw his face, the anger melted out of you and you burst into tears. It was all too much, the pain on his face, the way he stumbled back slightly, the way his hand trembled as he reached for you. The tears were still burning a hot path down your cheeks, staining the collar of your dress dark with water. You felt pathetic and small, and most of all, you knew at that moment that you didn't hate Chan. You thought it would feel good to finally say those words out loud, that it would feel like a relief. Instead, the feeling that ran through you was regret. The vines that had poured out of your mouth were suffocating you, and all you wanted to do was cry and cry until it all went away. 

You were still so young, so immature, and you felt so, so regretful. You were drowning in your tears, you were suffocating in your clothes and you just wished it would all go away.

Warm arms enveloped you, pulling you into a hard chest, caressing your hair roughly. You began to cry harder, the words coming out jumbled and croaky. 

“Chan, I apologize. I never meant it, I just—”

His deep voice interrupted your choked apologies, his hands rubbing soothing circles in your back. 

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

His kindness, his ever-present kindness, just made your tears fall faster, your hands knotting in the back of his shirt.

“You are just so kind, and I was so horrible to you and I apologize—”

He just stroked your back soothingly, murmured nothing into your hair, and let you cry, years' worth of emotions wetting the thin fabric of his undershirt. It felt good to cry, and those horrible dead vines wrapped around your throat slowly loosened, falling gently around your shoulders, and turning a brilliant vibrant green. Leaves sprouted and you cried and cried, until the sun sank below the distant hills, and you found yourself still laying in his arms, embraced on the floor. It had been so long since you had felt a touch of comfort, and you would have compared it to the times your father had held you like this, but for some strange reason, it didn't quite feel like that.

It felt comforting of course, but you also felt strange. Your cheeks flushed pink, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You had always assumed this strange feeling was rage, but maybe…

You hurriedly put a stop to that line of thought. For now, you should do your best to make it up to Chan and enjoy your time with your ‘father’.

♔♕♔

Over the next few weeks, you spent more and more time with Chan. The two of you would eat each meal together, and you found that he was actually very pleasant company. You found he shared your love of horse riding and promptly planned a picnic. The servants cooed over your relationship, most of them just grateful you were both happy, although you had heard strange whispers and giggles from the maids every time you interacted. You asked them, but they had just giggled and ran off. It was strange but you were too happy to dwell on it as you anticipated your picnic. 

It was a beautiful day for a picnic, the sun smiling down and the wind tossing your hair around your head gracefully. Your favorite horse, Pearlie whinnied and reared playfully into the air as you stroked her pure white coat. 

Pearlie was a beautiful white mare, gifted to you on your fifteenth birthday by your father. You took one look at her pure white coat and promptly named her Pearlie. Your father had dissolved in laughter and patted your head reassuringly. 

Pearlie was docile and playful, and you adored her with your entire being. Her long white main blew gently in the wind, the sun bouncing off her gold embroidered saddle and almost blinding you. You patted her reassuringly.

“Just wait a minute more Pearlie, it's almost time.”

A cough sounded behind you and you whip around, your eyes coming to rest on Chan. Your breath caught in your throat. He looks positively radiant, clothed in a thin white shirt and tight black pants, his hand grabbing the reins of a gorgeous black stallion. His brown curls blew gently in the breeze, he smiled at you, his dimples peeking out. You felt your heart heating up and again, your heart beating insistently in your chest, bumping against your ribcage and begging to be let out, if only to jump into his arms. Much like you wanted to do. A flash of gold caught your eyes and you looked down, blushing as naked flesh graced your eyes. The front of his shirt was undone, and a bit of fair peck peaked out at you. A golden pendant hung around his neck, swaying gently as he walked, drawing your eyes towards its golden glow and the swaths of skin available for your eyes to devour. You hurriedly yanked your eyes away and mounted your horse. Chan joined you, pulling his black stallion up next to yours. He smiled and your heart felt like it would simply rip from your chest and leave you cold and dead. 

“Ready to depart?”

You managed a nod and urged Pearlie into a trot. You let the wind cool your heated cheeks, let it caress your face and toss your hair, and all too soon, you had arrived at your destination.

The lake was special, a spot you had discovered one day, running from your mother's wrath. The sunlight bounced off the pure blue surface, and the trees around it were such vibrant greens, rivaled only by the bright wildflowers littering the ground. The air was warm, and butterflies scattered as you dropped to the ground, Chan following suit.

He let out a noise of amazement. “This place is extraordinary.”

You smiled, happy that he thought so too. “Isn't it? It's my special place.”

You were busy laying out the blanket and missed the look he sent you, so full of happiness tinged only with a slight flavor of longing. 

You plopped down on the blanket, and he joined you, laying out the spread of treats. Small bite-size sandwiches, little cakes and pies, and a large pitcher of iced jasmine tea. It made your mouth water and you delicately picked up a small raspberry pie, taking a bite. Your teeth sank into the flaky pie crust, the slightly tart filling making your taste buds sing in delight. You let out a moan of satisfaction as you finished the treat, reaching for another as Chan laughed. 

“You like raspberries?”

You nod, your mouth full, and swallow a delicious bite. “The kitchen really outdid itself.” It is a picturesque afternoon, and in no time at all the large spread of food is long gone and the both of you are laying back, letting the breeze play gently with your clothes and gazing into the pure blue sky. Birdsong fills the air, and you can see butterflies darting around from flower to flower, never stopping for too long. Faintly, you think you can hear bees buzzing in the distance, and sure enough, across the lake, you spot a bees nest, hundreds of bees buzzing around it, little soldiers devoted to their work. The smell of nature fills your nostrils, wispy clouds arching gracefully and the sun blazing a path across the blue, blue sky. 

Chan breaks the peaceful silence, clearing his throat before speaking. “I am really glad we could do this.”

You nod, turning your body to face him, your arm squishing uncomfortably below your side. He looks positively radiant beside you, beaming at you, his dimples doing horrible things to your heart. You cough and reply. “I'm sorry, I was stubborn.”

Chan sits up, waving his hand in protest. “No, Name I didn't mean—”

You sit up as well, your hair falling around your shoulders and tickling your bare skin. It all just feels so carefree, you feel a smile carving its way across your face. 

“I know, Chan. I know how kind and forgiving you are.” You take a deep breath, stealing yourself to let your emotions show. “I should have noticed earlier. I took my irrational anger out on you and I apologize.”

You're not used to apologizing, and you know your dialogue sounds stiff and formal, but you can't quite think of another way to get it out. 

Chan moves to protest, but in a moment of ill-advised boldness, you place a finger gently on his plump lips, bringing his words to a sharp halt. 

“Chan. Let me apologize for this at least.”

He nods, and your hand falls reluctantly from his lips, finger hot from the contact. You're left looking at him, your eyes staring deep into his own deep brown ones and falling down, down, down. The world around you disappears, the birdsong fading away to nothing until all you can see is his face, highlighted by the sinking sun, his tousled brown hair, and those disastrous dimples disappearing as his smile fades, his eyes dipping from your own to focus on your lips. You're frozen in time, filled with a longing you finally understand. Those symptoms you for so long assumed were hatred were in fact desire. You long for his touch, for his warmth, and shamefully, for his love. The metaphorical vines curled lovingly around your neck begin to bloom, white lilies falling from their stems and plopping into your lap. The sun suddenly seems to shine just a little brighter, the leaves seem a more vibrant green, and the birdsong returns, louder and more beautiful than ever. You are floating, dancing in your happiness, the relief of realization rendering your body light, and now you're soaring, dancing on the cloud tops, but then, you fall. The guilt pours in, guilt over your love, your love of your mother's husband, a man who probably still devoted himself to her, even in her passing. And you know you could never compare to your mother, her beautiful face still etched in your mind, her cold expression glaring at you from her perch on the wall, her face immortalized in a royal portrait, frame made of solid gold. And you know, that you can never have this man, the man you want and have wanted for longer than you were willing to admit to yourself. And with that, the sun sinks below the hills, and the vibrant colors leak out of your surroundings. You break eye contact, turning away and standing up. 

Chan jumps to his feet. “Time to go?”

You nod, forcing a smile, and grip Pearlies reins in your hand. You turn, away from Chan and gaze out over the lake. This spot will be forever intertwined with bittersweet memories, a place where you came to realize your unrequited, very forbidden love. A heavy warm hand lands on your shoulder and you turn, Chan's worried face greeting your own. You find yourself mesmerized by his lips as he speaks. 

“Name, are you alright?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically and adorably shy. You took a deep breath and put on a smile. “I'm fine Chan, just a little tired.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying your face, and you did your best not to feel a little self-conscious. But then, he was done and you turned away, mounting Pearlie as he jumped atop his black steed, and you set off back to the castle. 

The ride back was silent, the orange glow of the sunset bathing the hills in fire, and the fireflies had come out to play. It was a beautiful scene, but you couldn't bring yourself out of your somber mood and the two of you rode home in tense silence. 

♔♕♔

Later that night, as your maids bustled about, lighting the lanterns one by one until the room was bathed in candlelight, you noticed the strange new addition to the room. A large mirror. Your head maid noticed where your eyes were going and helpfully chimed in. 

“Was your mother”s, she left it to you.”

You frowned. It didn't look like anything your mother would own. It was old, the glass slightly foggy and no matter how you strained your eyes, you could not make out a reflection. The rim of the mirror was gaudy, gold with inlaid jewels, and for some reason, as you stared at it you got the unpleasant sensation of eyes on you, watching you as you crept closer. 

You stretched a shaking hand out, and just as your fingers brushed against the surface, the fog within the mirror began to swirl violently. You jumped, pulling the offending hand back and clutching it to your chest as the fog congealed, coming together until a face was visible. You looked away hurriedly. It wasn't as if the face was ugly, no, you would rather describe it as unnerving. It was a woman, her face what you could only call perfection, and it was a woman who you knew far too well. Your mother's perfect face stared back at you, immortalized inside this strange mirror even as her corpse rotted in the graveyard far from the castle. The maids were gone now, and as you stepped closer to the mirror a breeze came in through your open window, ruffling your silk nightgown and tossing your hair. The woman in the mirror spoke first, but the voice that exited its perfectly painted mouth was not your mother’s, no, it was a strange amalgamation of voices, male and female, blending together in a truly unpleasant way. 

“You must be my new master.”

The face in the mirror moved as it spoke, almost as if your mother was here in front of you again, and you hated it. You responded, trying to hastily tidy your unruly hair. You always felt so small next to your mother, so small and unattractive. 

“Your master?”

The face in the mirror never changed, no emotion ever crossed its stone-cold face and the longer you stared at it the more dazed you felt, as if a heavy fog was suddenly blanketing your mind. The world seemed to fade away and all you could see was the mirror. The mirror spoke again, its words cutting like ice, pulling your insecurities out of your mind and weaponizing them against you. 

“You can be the object of his affection.”

Every emotion was heightened, and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as a sudden and intense desperation enveloped you and you rushed forward, gripping the sides of the mirror.

“Tell me! Tell me this instant!”

Your voice sounded desperate even to your ears but for some reason you didn't care. The mirror’s perfect face curved into a stunning smile, as its ruby lips parted one final time, and a poem fell from them. 

You repeat the first line of the poem as you exit the castle, your heels clicking much too loudly on the cobblestone path. 

“Enter the woods, under moonlight so bright…” You lift your eyes to the sky and breathe in relief as the moon decides to peek out from behind the clouds, lighting the path in front of you. 

You were always told never to enter the woods, and you hear the words echoing in the back of your mind, but the strange fog in your brain quickly blankets it, and you step off the cobblestones and onto the well-worn path into the woods. You reach into your pocket, pulling out a compass as you recite the next few lines in the poem. 

“A choice will be yours, surrender tonight, Walk to the north, not south or not west.” The woods are dark, the trees foreboding, their branches reaching desperately toward the moonlight. It's silent, unnervingly silent as you walk off the beaten path, your shoes touching damp grass, padding softly across its surface, and leaving crushed beaten grass in your wake. Not a sound crosses your lips, as you walk on, through the large trunks of huge black trees. You look at the little paper where you hastily scrawled the mirror's words, and read the next line.

“Until in a grove, she grants your request…”

Sure enough, ahead of you, your eyes catch on a break in the trees. The dark trees gave way to green moss and stones, and the moonlight poured into the clearing, illuminating the strange statue in the center. It's made of a peculiar black stone and almost shines by itself. It's big, much taller than you and the edges are rough, like it was hastily carved. It mesmerizes you, as you stare deep into the black interior you suddenly feel the urge to touch it. You move your hand, almost in a trance, and brush the rough surface. The surface is smooth, and ice cold, and as your fingers leave its surface it begins to melt away slowly, black goo melting off its surface and sizzling into the ground. The goo swirls, and the ground below it seems to melt away until a shining glass statue is revealed. The statue is large, almost your height, and of a woman. Her face is covered with a strange mask, round and smooth and without any features at all, her hair cascades down her shoulders, reaching all the way to the ground. She is clothed in a skin-tight gown, with a revealing slit up the side. Her feet are bare upon the grass. In her hand, she holds a single object, a shining golden apple. The paper in your hand flutters to the ground, long forgotten as you stare wide-eyed at the apple. Its shimmering surface mesmerizes you and you find yourself reaching out, and gripping its smooth surface in your hand. 

It's cold, and as you bring it to your lips, you have the vaguest feeling of foreboding. In the back of your disordered mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Chan, screaming at you to stop, to put the apple back and turn, leaving the woods for good. But the mirror's promise echoes in your mind and you open your mouth, taking a single bite of the apple. The skin is thin, the flesh just the right amount of sweet and tart. The apple is delicious, and as you chew it, you suddenly hunger desperately for more. Your gaze zeros in on the apple and you bring it to your lips again, but just like that, it slips from your hand. You look around in confusion, only for your vision to start to fade around the edges, your hands are suddenly limp and as your consciousness fades, you have one clear realization. 

“I should have never listened to that mirror.”

The last sensation you feel is the soft grass beneath your legs, as you fall gently to the ground, and slip into a dark, dreamless sleep.

♔♕♔

Something was wrong. Chan could feel it, even as the clock ticked on endlessly, as the words scrawled on documents began to blur over, as you waltzed through his mind, your smile consuming his every thought. It was unhealthy, and so, so wrong. This woman, this young, beautiful, and when he had enjoyed the chance to know you, kind woman was someone he could never even touch. This woman who he lived too close to, was a woman forever out of his desperate hands, a woman he could never have, never kiss. The thought killed him. And that was why Chan took the long journey to your room, down the dark empty halls, past the portraits that judged his every move, and knocked quietly on your door. It was late, he knew that. Much too late for him to be visiting you, and Chan felt his face heating up as he realized how improper it looked. Him, a young man, visiting a young woman in the dead of night. But, he reassured himself as he stood in front of your door, his first thoughts had been innocent, a desire to talk to you, to laugh with you, even if his later thoughts had turned less proper. 

The silence worried him, and he knocked again, harder. The door cracked open, light pouring into the dark hallway and Chan frowned. You were up? At this hour? He realized how hypocritical that sounded, here he was, awake and trying to visit you, but in his defense, he hadn't been thinking of anything besides your smile. The smile he had glimpsed this afternoon, shining like the sun after rainfall. Chan had thought he might die. You looked radiant among the flowers, a forest fairy masquerading as a human, a being so perfect and radiant he might die if he dared to lay a hand on her skin. He truly wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Your smile was like the sun peeking its way from behind the clouds after a storm, the storm of your hatred. Chan never wanted to be on the receiving end of your hatred ever again. 

He pushed the door cautiously, and peaked around it, taking in the fully lit candles and the strange mirror standing in the corner of the room. He stepped inside, taking the opportunity to look around your room, usually a forbidden place for him. Your room was large, with high sloping ceilings giving it a breezy feel. Your window was open, curtains flapping in the wind, and the moonlight poured into the room, illuminating the white sheets on your bed. 

Your perfectly made bed. Your dreadfully empty bed. 

Chan ran to the window, his heart pounding in his chest. What was going on, where had you gone at this late hour? He feared the worst, even as he leaned out the window, and spotted the imprints in the grass. Footsteps. His body froze, ice water coating his insides and dread in his thoughts. Where could you be going at such a late hour. He prayed you had not headed into the woods. The woods were home to many things, some good, some terrifying, and the thoughts of what could happen to you turned his mind to stone. You were the  woman he loved above all else, he could not let you die. Chan knew it was illogical. He should have waited until morning, gathered an armed search team, and departed into the woods, but he could not help the way he ran down the stairs, and flung open the castle doors, running barefoot into the woods. 

Alas, his searching was for nothing, because as he stumbled back in the morning, sleep deprived and emotional, he still had not found you.

♔♕♔

And thus, six uneasy days passed. Chan pulled together a search team. He insisted on coming along, even if the head butler protested, and the team of strong volunteers turned the woods upside down in search of you. Night after sleepless night passed, and the dark circles under Chan’s eyes grew and grew. The servants whispered, their concern for their employers spread to the townsfolk and finally on the morning of the seventh day, they received a tip from a huntsman. A tip that told of a woman, asleep in a glass coffin, deep in the woods.

Armed with this information, they stumbled through the woods, exhausted men led by their relentless king, a man driven by a love he didn't even realize. And as the sun set on the seventh day, Chan found you.

The clearing was bathed in the rays of the dying sun, the light illuminating the intricate glass coffin taking up the center of the clearing. And laid in that coffin, still as death was you, still clothed in your white nightgown, hands crossed gently over your chest, holding a perfectly preserved golden apple. Chan feared the worst, stumbling to the coffin with a cry and throwing it open. His hands desperately felt for a pulse. Fear poured over his heart, as he felt nothing…

…a pulse, faint but definitely there. Chan collapsed to his knees, his head falling against the edge of the coffin, his hands desperately clutching the glass sides, and cried.

And that's how the rest of the search team found him, crouched against the glass coffin, tears streaming down his cheeks, knees grass-stained and dirty, looking nothing like the king he was, only a man brought to the ground with relief. 

They moved you to the castle, careful not to disturb you, and laid you to rest in your bed. Only then did Chan allow himself to sleep, although his dreams were nightmares, plagued with you, encased in glass, dead to this world. He awoke the next morning and rushed to you, certain you were awake but when he arrived in your room, took in your form, now changed into a white silk nightgown, still fast asleep. The maids shook their heads, and he rushed to your side, desperately calling your name. He tried and tried, but you remained as silent as death, faint pulse the only evidence that you were even alive, and he finally collapsed, sinking into a chair the maids had provided and taking your cold hand in his own. He took you in, your hair, now washed courtesy of the maids, fanning around your head, your eyes closed, lashes kissing your cheeks, your pretty mouth, open slightly as you breathe. Your skin was cold to the touch, and you made barely a sound in the room, cold and silent as death.

Cold and silent as your mother had been. 

Chan was never in love with your mother, and in turn, she had never loved him. It had been like a contract for her, to hide her secret lover from the public. She said lover, but Chan was not sure your mother could truly love anymore if the way she treated you was any indication. 

Chan still remembered the day the queen had shown up to his small house, in all her royal glory, and asked him to marry her. He had agreed, if only to support his siblings, and moved into the castle. He remembered the day he had met you, a woman so beautiful and full of life, so bright as she glared at him, so angry as she ignored him, such an opposite of the woman he married. He had admired you since the day he met you, your glowing beauty seemed to light up the room, your smile like the sun after a rainy day. Even your anger was vibrant, so much better than your mother's cold treatment of all living things. But soon he hungered for more. He longed to be on the receiving end of your smiles, to no longer be subject to your hatred. And then, one day, his wish had come true. After years and years of receiving your glares, one of your brilliant smiles had been reserved specifically for him. Not for the stable boy you favored, not for the new butler who the maids gossiped about, not even for your gossipy friends who smirked in his direction, no, this smile was reserved simply for him. It was karma, he decided, that the night after he received such a privilege, you disappeared for seven days, and then refused to wake up. 

Chan brought your ice-cold hand to his lips and pressed one gentle kiss upon your soft skin. Tears fell silently down his cheeks and dropped onto your hand. Chan prayed your fingers would twitch, that your eyes would flutter, and then open slowly, that your skin would warm and the color would return to your cheeks, but alas, no such thing happened. Your eyes remained closed, your skin remained cold, and the only thing he felt was a tap on his shoulder. The doctor had arrived. 

♔♕♔

The only sound in the room was the flip of paper, the rustling of pages turning. Chan glanced up from his book, hoping that your eyes would open, but alas you remained as still as ever. The doctor had come and gone, unable to do a thing, and the maids, having grown tired of his constant staring, had provided him with some books to occupy his mind, at least until the next doctor came to visit. Much to his chagrin, he had found himself being sucked into the world of the characters. He found himself sympathizing more and more with the main character, a man who was in love with a woman he could not have. He turned the pages eagerly, absorbed every word, and found the world melting away. He understood John, the main character in the novel, as he pinned over Elain, the young woman he loved and soon the characters were no longer John and Elaine, but they became Chan and you, and he imagined every interaction as you and him. It helped him escape, helped him hold hope that one day you would wake up and interact with him again. 

The book had a happy ending. John and Elaine got married and moved into John's large house together. Chan felt satisfied as he put down the book, leaning back in his chair. He could picture your wedding. You would look stunning in white, just as you looked now. And he would watch you walk down the aisle, smiling from ear to ear. Your vows would be exchanged, and you would retreat to the wedding bedroom. Chan felt his cheeks heat up, but he continued with his fantasy even as he glanced around nervously. There you lay, asleep and peaceful on the bed. He could not dare to do such a thing in front of your sleeping form, so he stood up and turned the chair around. It was much better to face a wall and do such a thing as touch himself thinking of you, right in front of your sleeping face. He still felt like a degenerate as he imagined the scene. 

You would tease him, you liked to tease. He could imagine it now, your first layer of skirts falling gently to the floor, leaving you only in your thin underlayer. He could see your nipples, perky and rubbing against the fabric. 

Chan gulped, palming himself slightly over his pants. It was embarrassing how quickly he rose to hardness, over a simple fantasy. 

You would let the last layer fall, and sit on the bed, your perfect body on display for his greedy eyes. He watched as you smirked, spreading your legs and bearing your core for his eyes. Chan gulps as you beckon him forward, falling to his knees before your core. 

The Chan in reality refuses to actually pull himself out of his pants, electing instead to press harder, his palm doing its best in the circumstances as he falls back into his fantasy. 

You grip his hair, smirking down at him, and with enough force to startle, shove his face into your—

A knock sounds on the door, interrupting his dirty fantasies and Chan hurriedly does his best to hide his hardness, pulling himself as the maids lead the next doctor in. If they notice his disheveled appearance and how the chair is now facing the wall, they don't say a thing. 

♔♕♔

For the next few days, the castle was abuzz with worry. The news spread fast, and soon villagers were lining up with gifts. Everything from jewelry to a bouquet of wildflowers given to him by a small girl, who sobbed and asked if the princess would wake up. Chan did his best to reassure her, even if on the inside he felt like crying. 

He summoned every doctor he could, but none of them seemed to have an answer. You seemed to be stuck in time. You didn't need to eat, or drink, and you didn't change one bit, from the moment they found you laying inside that glass coffin, deep in the woods. Hours turned to days and you didn't wake up. Chan despaired. He posted desperate notices around the kingdom, begging for any information regarding endless sleep. He tried any and every doctor he could, he prayed to any god available, but alas, nothing. 

Days turned to weeks, and the word seemed to move on around him, even as you slept, so beautiful but so lifeless, and even as Chan despaired. He did his best and ran the kingdom like he was supposed to, but everyone could tell his heart wasn't in it. His eyes looked glazed and distant, and he spent all his free time sitting by your bed, holding your hand. The villagers and nobles cooed at his dedication, calling it the love story of the century, but the servants did their best to keep the rumors from him. A month passed, and Chan feared you would never wake again. He was so close to giving up, when one day, a strange woman entered the palace, and with her dirty robes, she brought his hope. 

The woman appeared old, but with witches, you could never be so sure. She smiled at Chan, looking calm and complacent, a sharp difference from Chan’s harried look. She was wearing a long red dress, a woolen cloak covering most of her body. When she first appeared, it had been covered in mud, but between the time she had entered the door and Chan had brought her to your room, the cloak looked brand new. 

Chan spoke first. “Do you think you can help her? She won't wake up and I don't know what to do anymore—”

The witch raised a manicured finger, and Chan stopped talking, effectively shushed. The witch spoke, and her voice echoed in your large chambers, years younger than her appearance. 

“I'll see what I can do.”

Chan blinked, and when he looked back at her, she had de-aged, looking closer to thirty than ninety. Her blond hair, cut in a sharp bob at her chin, peaked out from her hood as she smiled at him. Witches and their disguises. Her blue eyes lined heavily with black, took in the situation and Chan watched nervously as she walked to the bed where you lay, still as cold and silent as ever before. She looked at you for a second, her eyes scanning your features, frozen in time before her eyes moved to the golden apple, sitting inconspicuously on your small bedside table. Chan frowned as she picked it up, turning it around in her hands, her nails filed to lethal sharp points, and painted a dangerous red. He had never given the apple much thought, too concerned with your state, but as she turned it around he noticed the one, small bite, perfectly preserved, on one side. 

Chan can't help himself, he rushes forward. 

“Is that what it is? Is she poisoned? Is she never going to…”

He can't bear to say it and lets the sentence trail off. The witch stares at him for a moment, chewing something in her mouth, before she takes pity on his sorry state and sets the apple down, turning to him. 

“Yes, cursed apple. But…”

She turns and walks to the strange mirror that had been sitting in the corner of your room. Chan watches in horror as she lifts a pointy heeled shoe, and gracefully kicks the mirror. The surface shatters, the pieces clattering to the ground like rainfall, and Chan opens his mouth to protest but shuts it as he watches. 

The pieces have risen in the air, distorting and twisting until they crash to the earth, and with a strange howl, one that sounds a lot like despair and fills his soul with sadness, they vanish. The room seems automatically lighter, like a disturbing presence has been removed from the room, and Chan suddenly felt a bit more optimistic. The witch turned to him with a sigh, tossing the apple in the air. Chan watched it spin, slightly mesmerized. 

“Alright, it seems like that vile mirror convinced your lover to depart into the woods and eat this apple.”

Chan frowned, questions spilling from his mouth. 

“How did the mirror do that? What kind of mirror was it and why would it do that? Also—”

The witch held up a hand, silencing him as the apple spins in the air again, coming to rest in her manicured hand. 

“It's a cursed mirror. A vile human soul, doomed to trick unsuspecting people into death.”

How did such a thing end up in your possession? He can only imagine the horrible thoughts it must have put into your head. Chan’s horror must show on his face because she chuckles a little as she continues. 

“It must have played on her insecurities, impersonated a person she feared or respected, and convinced her to go into the woods.”

The witch moved over to the window as she spoke, and drew her arm back, and with all her might, threw the golden apple into the sunlight. It spuns in the air for a moment, before it exploded with a bang, disappearing into thin air. Chan staired. The witch laughed.

“That apple,” She said, dusting her hands of imaginary dirt. “Is a cursed item. It's the usual thing,”

The witch held up two fingers, and pitched her voice, mimicking someone. “Cursed to sleep until she receives true loves kiss,’ it's so cliche but some witches still rely on the old stuff—”

“True love’s kiss?”

The witch looked at him like he was stupid. “Yes, true love's kiss. Should be easy for you.”

She pulled the hood of her cloak up, and Chan watched as wrinkles grew on her fair skin, her hair turned a dark gray, and she aged about fifty years. Her voice was still clear and young when she spoke. “Unfortunately, I have to go.” she waved an old wrinkled hand and smirked at him. “Good luck.”

And with that, she was gone, like she was never even there, leaving Chan to deal with the bombshell of a declaration she dropped on his head. 

Chan deliberated long and hard about this dilemma, his brain in conflict with his heart, worry constantly etched across his handsome face. He knew his kiss would work, he loved you more than he thought he had loved anything before. But as much as he longed to press his lips to yours, he was too afraid of the consequences, afraid of what would happen when his kiss worked and you opened your eyes. Afraid of the disdain that would cross your face once you realize your stepfather had inappropriate feelings for you. The thought of your face carved into a mask of disgust made his heart ache desperately in his chest, but he would rather live a life with your hatred than live a life without you entirely. 

He sank into the chair beside your bed and turned his eyes on your still form. You were so beautiful, but silent and cold as a statue and Chan longed for anything, your laughter, your screams, even your sobs, anything but this cold shell of a woman laying deathly still on the bed. Your lips, slightly parted in sleep, taunted him. Blushed a pretty pink, curved and sultry and teasing him even now. You were a temptress incarnate, and Chan would do his best to resist your charms until the very end. You were carefree, wild and the exact opposite of your mother, and as a result you had no shortage of admirers. Your fiance, who in Chan's opinion was a jerk, the stable boy, a handsome new butler, a young lord at a ball. And some of them, you favored them back, disappearing off for secret trists that your mother had scoffed at and Chan wished desperately that he was one of those men you snuck off with. He still remembered the fateful time he had accidentally heard you, panted moans and pretty cries painting a forbidden picture. You sounded so beautiful, and Chan had longed desperately that he was the one teasing those sounds out of you, not some upstart young lord. He was ashamed at the way he leaned against the wall, guiltily listening to your symphony of sounds, unable to bring himself to leave until you reached your high, sneaking off to take care of himself. It was a shameful memory, one he blushed at even now, even as he desperately prayed to any god available, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to your own in a chaste kiss. A kiss so full of longing, a forbidden taste of something he could only pine for, a woman constantly out of his reach. 

♔♕♔

The world was a sea of black. It stretched forever, all you could see. Your body felt weightless, and you blinked, looking around for something, anything. But there was nothing. You faintly remembered an apple, a mirror, and then the sensation of falling, but your memory after that was blank. You decided to walk forward, looking for anything. Your feet made no sound as you pattered across the nothingness, and after what seemed like only a few minutes, your vision began to waver. You felt a creeping sensation on your back, and a voice you could not hear urged you to run, run away from the thing behind you. You knew subconsciously that if it caught you, you would never wake up. And so you ran. 

You flew, your desire to wake propelling your feet, even as your throat begged for water and your legs burned. Somewhere in the distance, you saw light, and in front of that light, a figure. A familiar figure, a figure of a man you loved with all your heart. You ran and ran, and the Chan in the distance held out a hand that you longed to grab. Your feet moved impossibly faster, and you practically flew towards him, even as the sound of slithering behind you grew louder, the creeping sensation sending shivers up your spine. And as you came into the light, as you grabbed his bigger hand in your own, as he pulled you into a warm hug, the world around you faded. The strange dreamscape blurred, and you opened your eyes to the familiar colors of the ceiling, in your private chambers. You blinked, and looked around, your eyes catching on the figure seated beside your bed. Chan looked haggard, his eyes were highlighted by dark circles and his hair was a mess, but the relief in his eyes trumped it all. Your mouth felt dry as you opened it to speak. 

“I'm hungry.”

You watched in confusion as tears slipped from Chan's eyes, and he tackled you on the bed, hugging you tight to his chest. You fell back against the bed, your back hitting the silky covers as pounds of muscle crashed onto you, suffocating you in his embrace. You melted into it, albeit a little confused, and stoked his large back as he cried into your nightgown. Your voice cracked as you spoke again. 

“What's wrong?”

The door crashed open, and your head maid and bedroom maids crashed into the room. As soon as they lay eyes on you they were running to the bed, tears running down their faces. You were beyond confused but no one bothered to answer your questions. It took a long time for everyone to stop crying, and the maids promptly heard your complaint and brought you a bowl of warm soup and bread. Chan, still sniffling, sat in the chair by your bed and looked deliciously disheveled and desperate. You munched happily on your food as the castle staff piled into your room, and answered their questions.

Chan asked the first question. 

“Why did you go into the woods?”

You remembered the thoughts that had sent you into the woods, and now that you thought back on them it seemed oftly extreme. It seemed the mirror might have been the cause of them. You chewed thoughtfully as you answered. 

“This strange mirror, it told me I could be beautiful…”

You play with your spoon, a little ashamed and blushing deeply as you continue. 

“I was a little erratic, I am in love with this man and so I listened to the mirror’s rambles, even if they were irrational.”

You're too focused on your embarrassment to notice the giggles and looks traded among the staff, the way your stepfather's shoulders sink slightly, his disappointed gaze. Because he could never imagine that you love him, you must be in love with some young lord, a man who doesn't deserve your love, who could never give you what you want. He shook his head, putting a stop to that presumptuous line of thought. He knows you deserve someone younger than him, unmarried and full of youthful energy to match your carefree spirit. 

You keep glancing at Chan out of the corner of your eye, looking for any change in his expression, and you watch in delight as his shoulders sink, and his face darkens. You feel a flicker of hope spark in your chest, small and pathetic, but there nonetheless. You decide to test the waters a little. Clasping your hands together, you keep your eye on Chan as you speak. 

“I'm just so in love, I think of him every day, and I long to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You feel a little bad as you watch Chan’s face fall, watch his hands clenched in his lap. The small flame in your heart sputters and grows, roaring to life and heating your heart in a joyful fire. You are now sure he loves you back. He sends you a strained smile, trying to be encouraging. 

“That's, um, wonderful!” The servants giggle behind him, trading secret smiles hidden behind their hands. 

“So, when will I meet this wonderful man?” The emphasis on wonderful makes you want to laugh, and you choke back your giggles as you continue. 

“You know him.” Confusion flashes across his face. “I do?” The staff is muffling laughter behind their hands, but Chan remains ever oblivious. You smirk. “Yes, very well.” 

You think he might be the only person in the room, stuffed to the brim with castle staff, that hasn't gotten it. His brow furrows as he thinks. “Is it Lord Brandish?” You emphatically shake your head. He frowns. “I really can't think of anyone else…”

Your head butler coughed, running a hand through his perfectly combed silver hair. His voice is resigned as he speaks. 

“It's you, sire.”

The room is dead silent. Chan stands, his eyes wide as he turns to the head butler. “Really?” The butler nods, and Chan turns again, tripping over the leg of the chair and crashing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding your soup. Your head maid rescues the food from your lap and you grin as Chan blushes, pulling himself into a sitting position. His voice is uncharacteristically shy as he speaks. 

“Is it really me?” Your beaming as you nod and a hopeful smile lights up his handsome face. You throw the covers off your legs and stand, your feet hitting the soft carpet with a thud. 

Chan takes your hand in his own, and bows before you, bringing his full lips to it. Your heart pounds as he presses a delicate kiss to it. He straightens to his full height “I love you more than you can imagine.” Someone coos in the background, but all you can see is the handsome man in front of you, your hand still clasped in his. He drops your hand, and you feel his hand heavy on your waist, his other hand coming up to caress your jaw, tilting your head up. His voice is so soft as he speaks. 

“When I looked into your eyes, my heart felt like it would escape my chest and run into your arms.” Your own heart feels the same, and you wonder if you might die. He's closer to you now, and all you can see is him. Around you, the servants begin to creep out giggling and smiling as they leave. The door shuts behind the last of them but neither of you notice, too caught up in each other's eyes. His voice is raspy now, and his gaze drops to your lips, darting back up to your eyes and back down. “At that moment… I knew I loved you.” 

He's so cheesy, and if any other man was saying such sugar-coated words, you would laugh in his face. But when Chan says it, your heart pounds in your chest and your cheeks burn with the fire of your heart. You suppose everything is different with him. His breath hits your lips, intermixing with your own as he comes ever closer. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Can I kiss you?” You smile, your hand winding around to grip his shoulders, as you reply. “Please kiss me.”

And so he does. 

♔♕♔

Your wedding is a joyous occasion, the townspeople clap happily, and as you kiss your new husband, under a rain of lilies, clutching the precious flower in your hands, you think back on what an odd set of events had preceded it. To think, in a way, you had your mother to thank for your husband. After all, it was she who brought Chan into your life, her death that had indirectly caused the two of you to have an opportunity to become closer and her magic mirror that pushed you to go trecking into the woods in the first place. And as the joyous wedding bells rang through the air, as you and Chan boarded the carriage and sat side by side, your head on his shoulder as the driver whipped the horses into a trot, you found it in yourself to be thankful to her. For although she had caused you a great deal of pain, in the end it had shaped you into the person you were today, a person full of flaws, yes, but those flaws just made you human. 

“Why are you so quiet. Having second thoughts?”

You giggled, and snuggled closer into your husband's strong embrace. “I would never.” You replied, and tilted your head up for a kiss. 

And as your lips locked, and you drove off into the sunset, you were sure this was the happiest you had been in your whole life, but you knew, there were only happy days to come. 

♔♕♔

taglist: @angieknght, @moasworld, @lofasofabread, @smhlino, @elizalabs3, @orrrgannnic

[softtcurse]

to my old ways, dumb decision (1)

story of a stripper and someone she loves.

*this is a 18+ fic, do not interact if you are underage; this fic contains mentions of drugs, manipulation, sex, and depression.

This is purely fiction.

Sleazin' and teasin', I'm sittin' on him

All of my diamonds are drippin' on him

I met him at the bar, it was 12 or somethin'

I ordered two more wines, 'cause tonight, I want him

“You have to get up”

“I don’t have to do anything” She mumbled. Eyes wide open, her arms laid limp by her side.

“YN please-“ Her bestfriend pleaded.

“Please leave me alone”

The sound of clicking heels echoed in her head. She could feel the crack in her lips, surely chapped enough to where they were bleeding. A sarcastic laugh left her lips as she felt the warm tears slide down her heated cheeks. Her right dress still adorned her body. Heavy heels still on her feet.

How long had it been anyways? Days? Maybe a few weeks. It could be a few hours and it would still feel all the same.

Phone cracked, the cruel image of his picture on her lockscreen still teasing her almost. The residue of the substance she had used just a few hours prior still lingered in her system.

What a joke.

She wanted to be mad at him, she did. How could he blame him?

YN’s hand blindly reached for her phone. His contact name was the first thing her eyes laid on, and the last thing she saw before she had her eyes closed again, the ringing on the FaceTime sound resounding in the trashed room.

It was the same routine every night.

“Im sorry” She croaked out. Her eyes stinging with very salty tears again. A sob racking over her body as she tried to justify why she would be calling him again.

“Please don’t hang up, I can’t sleep without you on the phone. I’m scared, please?” she pleaded at him. He hadn’t said a word to her. But she could feel his disappointment through the screen. Her eyes were still squeezed shut. Disgusted with herself, humiliated that she was in this shit position again. To hear his voice even just for a second was all worth it.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” She heard a tired Jack reply. She could hear his hands run over his face. The way he lowered the volume of whatever beat was playing so he could hear her better. “It’s been a month YN, I’m not playing this stupid fucking game with you anymore. I told you this”

A sad smile dispersed through her features. She laid her head on her arm. The smell of the club still on here, the adrenaline slowly going away.

She didn’t respond to him. She just listened to him shuffling on the other end. His presence brought peace to her being. Heavy eyes fluttered and before she knew it YN was fast asleep.

The fact that he stayed on the phone with her until he was sure she was safe and knocked out made it all worth it.

His hesitation to hit the ‘end’ button was harder.

She wouldn’t call him again after that.

A little context if you care to listen

I find myself in a shit position

The man that I love sat me down last night

And he told me that it's over, dumb decision

And I don't wanna feel how my heart is rippin'

In fact, I don't wanna feel, so I stick to sippin'

And I'm out on the town with a simple mission

In my little black dress, and this shit is sittin'

She watched as Jack’s eyes shut in pleasure. His lips twitched as she took him around her mouth. Soft plush lips pressing against the vein underneath his dick. Her glittery gloss smeared. Eyes never left his, even when his eyes shut closed hers stayed. Soft hands slid up and down his chest.

A true reformed addiction, his only addiction.

“Fuck baby” She heard him hiss.

“Feel good?” A hum escaped her lips.

“Fuck I love you”

slowly she closed her eyes.

Just a heart broke bitch, high heels, six inch

In the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne

I don't trust any of these bitches I'm with

In the back of the taxi, sniffin' cocaine

Drunk calls, drunk texts, drunk tears, drunk sex

I was lookin' for a man who was on the same page

Now it's back to the intro, back to the bar

To the Bentley, to the hotel, to my old ways

Opening them again she found yourself in the same dress she was wearing that night, tight corset top. Matching thigh highs and thick 6 inch heels.

“We need to talk”

“Can we do it after my set? I gotta go up in a bit”

“No we’re doing this now”

YN nervously picked at the skin around her hands. Perfectly French tipped acrylics now chipped.

She nodded her head and followed him to the back of the skin. Music pounding and sweaty bodies. Her ear drums could collapse from how loud the music was pumping. Never in life did she feel the anxiety that racked over her body like she did right now. Her heart was damn near showing out of her chest from how fast her body was pumping blood through her body. They both found themselves in the back areas of the club. Jack’s entourage close by as if they themselves knew the conversation that was going to take place.

“I missed you” YN said, her arms came to wrap around his body. Inhaling the scent of his cologne. Her was warm, despite his hard gaze. Maybe it was her holding on to the last few moments she could spend with him. Almost as if she knew from the beginning that it was all leading up to this.

The sex, the dates, the love bombing she expressed to him just so he wouldn’t leave.

Naive.

His arms slowly came to wrap around her waist. She was so pretty, makeup done perfectly as always. Jack could see her under eyeliner was smudged a bit. But it just gave a look to her that was more than addicting, any man would be so lucky.

However the moment was cut short. His hands came to her waist and pushed her back. His eyes softened a little bit as he watched her wince a little. The rejection of his touch was a little too much for her to bare.

“Sit” he nodded his head towards the private booth.

YN nodded, she switched her eyes from him to his group of friends. She recognized Urban and waved at him. He offered her a pity smile and looked away from her.

“Jack-“

“I dont think this is going to work YN” He interrupted her. His eyes traveled down to his PG ring. Not even wanting to face her.

It was getting a little heavier to breathe in the room. YN’s breath hitched. She knew, she fucking knew. However she wanted to speak, her body wouldn’t let her. Clammy hands gripped the bottom of her dress.

Knuckles turning a small white color from how hard she was tripping.

“I need stability, I want to settle down and- and I don’t think you’re ready for that” He finally looked at her. Jack could see her hardened teary eyes. The bright lights brought out the innocence in them. Jack swallowed hard and motioned his hands around the club. “This is your life style YN. I’m 24, I need a woman that’s willing to start acting like an adult”

“You don’t get to decide that for me! I am an adult!” YN stood up. A few people passing by snapped their heads to the commotion coming from the booth.

“You’re right, I don’t get to decide that for you, but I can decide that for me” Jack snapped. His teeth clenching down. YN could see the vein on his neck sticking out. He looked so good, even when he was scolding her for whatever he decided to scold her.

Even while he was breaking her heart, she wanted him.

'Cause I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

Doctor, doctor, anything, please

Doctor, doctor, have mercy on me, take this pain away

You're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel

Toke this joint how I'm blowin' this steam

Back to my ways like 2019

Not 24 hours since my ex did dead it

I got a new man on me, it's about to get sweaty

Last night really was the cherry on the cake

Been some dark days lately and I'm finding it crippling

Excuse my state, I'm as high as your hopes

That you'll make it to my bed, get me hot and sizzling

If I take a step back to see the glass half full

At least it's the Prada two-piece that I'm trippin' in

And I'm already actin' like a dick, know what I mean?

So you might as well stick it in

“I’ve been thinking about it for days now, I talked to Urb and a few guys abou-“

YN sourly laughed.

“Your fucking friends knew you were planning on breaking up with me? Is that why you brought them with you tonight? You wanted a fucking audience?!” YN started pushing Jack’s chest. With each word. Jack raised his hands up. Not putting his hands on her, he would never do that to her.

“Is that why they’re fucking looking at me like a kicked stray? Huh?!” YN let her tears slip down. A few security started walking over to her. She knew they were Jack’s security but she didn’t stop her verbal banter. “You’re disgusting Jack Harlow! You used me to get off! A fucking bitch to stick your dick in for a couple of months and then when I’m not the classy bitch you want to marry and have kids with you dump me?!”

“Ma’am-“ The tall security man pulled her hand.

“Ey man, don’t touch her. Chill out” Jack protested.

“Fuck you!” YN yelled at Jack. Seeing him defend her even after what he said sent a chill down her spine. She tugged her hand away from the security.

Two other dancers YN knew came over. Their faux concern didn’t faze YN. She knew they didn’t really care about her.

“Whats going on?” Candy, the strawberry blonde asked. Eyeing Jack and smacking her watermelon flavored bubblegum. “You okay sweetie?” She asked YN. She was just being nosey.

“Im fine-“

“Come on YN” The raven haired stripper next to Candy, named Xandra tugged in YN’s arm. “You shouldn’t be here begging him for anything. Looks like he got what he wanted and now he’s done. Men like this aren’t new to this scene”

“You aren’t gonna sit here and disrespect me-“

YN watched numbly as PG started walking over, noticing the commotion and looking out for their boy.

“What like you disrespected her?” Candy sourly laughed and pointed a red acrylic nail at Jack. “You don’t get to come in our work and tell us what to do”

“Dre said he’d give us a discount if you came with us, come on let’s go. He’s waiting with the stuff” Jack heard Xandra whisper to YN. Who just looked at Jack. Urban and the rest of his entourage finally arriving to where Jack and his security where standing.

“YN, no” Jack began as he heard Xandra.

“Don’t talk to her, let’s go” Candy snapped at Jack. Rolling her eyes and turning around with Xandra. Pulling a quiet YN by her arm.

Jack’s heart felt heavy. Watching the three of them disappear to the back.

Just a heart broke bitch, high heels, six inch

In the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne

I don't trust any of these bitches I'm with

In the back of the taxi, sniffin' cocaine

Drunk calls, drunk texts, drunk tears, drunk sex

I was lookin' for a man who was on the same page

Now it's back to the intro, back to the bar

To the Bentley, to the hotel, to my old ways

Cause I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

Doctor, doctor, anything, please

Doctor, doctor, have mercy on me, take this pain away

You're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel, mm (what?)

'Cause I don't wanna feel like I felt last night

I don't wanna feel like I felt last night

Be at peace with the things you can't change (last night)

I'll be naked when I leave and I was naked when I came, yeah

“She made her Instagram private”

“Huh?” Jack pulled back the headphones from his head. Watching as Urban brought the joint to his lips. Inhaling and holding it in a few seconds before breathing out the smoke. His phones lighting up the dim recording studio.

Urban turned his phone. YN’s now private Instagram.

“YN? She made her Instagram private.”

Jack nodded his head. Looking down at the carpeted floors. “Why were you looking for her Instagram anyways?”

“Chill” Urban laughed. “I saw her fine ass bestfriend on my recommended, and I happened to click on her Instagram name after scrolling down a few pictures”

“Oh”

“Yeah”

It felt awkward for a few moments. Jack didn’t like talking about YN. It had been a month since she last called him. Jack figured she finally decided he wasn’t worth calling when she was fucked up. He didn’t know if it hurt worse knowing she was finding peace without him (as selfish as that sounded) or knowing there was no way knowing what she was up to. He had a private fake Instagram that he would use to look at her Instagram stories, but he felt like he was violating her privacy by following her on a fake account to stalk her. Now he was sort of regretting it.

“Her problems aren’t mine anymore” Jack mumbled. Turning his chair back to the screen in front of him. Pro tools pulled up as he clicked the mouse here and there trying to focus on the new song he was working on.

“Hmm” Urban nodded and leaned back in the leather couch.

“You think she still works at that club?”

“I don’t know? Probably”

“We should go see just for old times sake” Urban grinned.

“I haven’t been back there since-“ Jack coughed and shifted in his seat. Remembering what happened the last time he was there two months prior.

YN’s body collided with the man she was dancing on. His hands finding her body. Roughly gripping her breast as she arched her back on him. He leaned down to whisper in her ear and YN giggled. Pupils dilated and her legs hurt from dancing but that didn’t stop her.

Jack stood with a small glass of vodka gripped in his hand. He made it a mission to not be noticed by her, and he was successful. Which told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t doing it to spite him. She was doing what she wanted and for some reason that made Jack feel sick.

“Yeah” Urban interrupted him. “I was just fucking with you” Sensing the joke had gone too far, he was now feeling bad himself.

Jack nodded and pressed his lips together.

“Got to finish this song” With that, the topic of YN was ended for the night.

Out of reach, out of touch, too numb, I don't feel no way

Toast up, so what? Street small, but it go both ways

So you'll run, yeah, but you'll never escape

Sunset in the maze (you're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel)

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night, oh

Doctor, doctor, anything, please

Doctor, doctor, have mercy on me

You're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

“You know I really did love him” YN mumbled. Her cheek pressed against the man’s chest. His hand sliding down her back.

“Did you?” The man asked her.

The covers down just above her ass. Her breasts pressed against the mattress. A cool breeze from the cracked window.

“Yeah, but he didn’t want me” She croaked out. Her eyelashes fluttered down against her cheek.

“Ridiculous, what man wouldn’t want you?”

“Him” YN bitterly laughed.

“He’s an idiot”

“Or maybe he’s smart, maybe he saw something I didnt, y’know I was gonna tell him I was gonna quit dancing the night he broke up with him me. I was gonna go back to school.”

The man’s chest rumbled as he laughed at her words. Not because what she said was funny. But because he saw irony. “You shouldn’t not pursue your dream because of a man, you shouldn’t let him decide that for you.”

“I just loved him so much”

“He probably did too, but you know. Men are stupid sometimes”

It was YN’s turn to laugh.

“Thank you for listening Keith” YN smiled up at him. Pressing a kiss to his jaw. Keith never pressured her to talk about Jack. She walked about him here and there, of course he knew what happened. But if YN didn’t share anything with him then he didn’t know.

He respected her like that.

The two had been messing around for two weeks now. It was very platonic. A friends with benefit situation. He listened to her and always supported her.

To everyone else it may seem the two of them were dating, but that wasn’t the case. Keith Powers was a gentlemen at heart. Opened car doors for her, took YN out to lunch and brunch. He also made sure she was always home and okay when he was in town and she were working a late shift.

He made sure no one messed with the woman and that made her feel a safeness she hadn’t felt since Jack.

“Cone on let’s get dressed, I promised you waffles”

YN cheered and quickly got out of the bed. “I have to text Sash and let her know I’ll be home later so she won’t worry! You know how she gets” YN laughed as she walked to the bathroom to text her bestfriend.

Not even noticing her phone, and the three missed calls from Jack.

Mm, lipstick smudged like modern art

I don't know where the fuck I am or who's drivin' the fuckin' car

Speedin' down the highway, sippin'

Mixin' pills with the liquor 'cah fuck these feelings

I left everyone I love on read (uh-huh)

Spilling secrets to the stranger in my bed (uh-huh)

I remember nothing, so there's nothing to regret (uh-huh)

[this-isajokerjoke]

dudley and his attempt at redemption

just imagine y’all

little dudley trying to play with harry and getting in trouble 

the only time he would get scolded or in trouble was when he hung out with harry and when he was angry he never got in trouble when he took it out on harry (ex yelling or punching him in the arm) as a child

so he kinda just stopped being nice to him

once, he was so angry. he got home from school and he could feel his hands shaking and the rage bubbling up his throat. he's seven. then he walks into the kitchen and he sees harry. and he lets loose. he hits harry again and again and harry is crying and he doesn't care because harry is a freak and when his mother comes in to see what all the noise was all she does is scold harry for being so loud. 

then she asks dudley if he feels better, and he does. all she says is “good im glad you got that out of your system”

so whenever he's angry he takes it out on harry. 

then his aunt comes over and, having heard the stories of harry at school, laughs when dudley shoves harry so hard he slams into his cupboard door. 

after that he hurts harry for fun. soon his friends join in. harry is a freak and he deserves everything after all he put dudley’s family through. this is harry potters punishment. 

this goes on for years

when dudley is fourteen, he starts feeling a little bad listening to harry be beat by his father or seeing him dodge a frying pan for messing up breakfast

he ignores it. his cousin is a freak. he's weird and gets in trouble and isn't liked by anyone. he deserves every bit of pain and hurt because he needs to learn to fit in and be normal. then finally, his house might be peaceful like it is at his friends houses

when he's fifteen, he reads a story in school. it's about a boy who is hurt by his parents and there's a class discussion on the short story. his classmates keep saying that “no one should be hurt by someone who's supposed to take care of them” and his teacher tells the class that if that sort of thing goes on at home, it's classified as abuse and they need to report it

dudley is confused. his situation is different, he thinks. harry is a freak. but after that, he stops hurting harry for fun. it's lost all appeal. 

he lashes out when he's upset. but he can't help but think of that dumb story. 

then, the summer before he turns 16, a new girl moves to surrey. she's pretty, dudley thinks. he meets her. she's kind and makes dudley’s heart skip beats. he goes over to her house one day, to pick her up for a date. she calls her parents by their first names, and dudley questions her. 

“oh,” she says, fidgeting a little. “my birth parents were deemed unfit to have guardianship over me. they're in prison for child abuse. so i'm being fostered.”

that explains her occasional flinches and panic attacks

it's explains why she's underweight. 

so once they began to date, he noticed more and more about her. she had panic attacks a lot, there were certain phrases that sent her into a spiral. she fell asleep on him once, during a movie. she thrashed and screamed and sobbed in her sleep, and when dudley finally woke her up, it took half an hour to coax her into calming down. 

she told him she had nightmares about her childhood. she was diagnosed with ptsd a while back. 

that was when dudley dursley decided to protect this girl with all he had. 

dudley hasnt hung out with his friends in a while. piers asks why at one point, but dudley just shrugs and avoids him more. the group stops talking to him completely when dudley punches one of them in the stomach. he’s not sure why.

so when harry came back for the summer, dudley saw the same things he saw in his girlfriend. he heard his cousin say things in his sleep, for them to stop or to “run cedric, run”

when harry was locked in his room without food or water, dudley snuck some in for him. he gave him ice packs and bandaids and tylenol when he was beat, and he didn't mention harry’s nightmares like he would have years before.

by the time the school year started, dudley knew that his parents hadn't treated harry potter right. there wasn't an excuse for him hurting harry even, and harry had been abused in the dursley home. 

dudley threw up.

when dudley dursley was 17, his cousin returned to his house in a panic. he watched as harry packed everything up and begged the his parents to understand that there was a war, they're in danger, they need to go into hiding please for their own safety

dudley dursley was 17 when he last told his girlfriend he loved her but it was for the best that they broke up. harry wouldn't lie about being in danger, and the last thing dudley wanted was the sweet girl to be hurt again

dudley dursley was 17 when he moved away from surrey. he was 17 when he asked his parents why harry wasn't coming with them and they told him harry was a waste of space. 

dudley dursley was 17 when he realized not even a part of him believed that. 

dudley dursley was 17 when he spoke to his cousin last and told him “i don't think you're a waste of space.”

harry potter is 17 when he says, “thanks big d.”

[vampire-caprisun]

We Can be Heroes CH1

Hello! Im finally going to start posting my cringe fan fiction on here and AO3, hopefully going to try to keep myself on a weekly release schedule but that might be subject to change depending on my current workload and job schedule. Thinking of making this two parts with the main story of bg3 being part one and an epilogue adventure being part 2.

Anyway this is my Tav Inala's story, shes a drow Ranger/Rogue seeking redemption and finding love and family in the process. Very durge coded without being a durge herself and I'm probably going to work in elements from the durge storyline into this fic since I love both.

Warnings: Voilence, talks of SH and suicide, talks of SA, drug use, alcohol consumption, lots of smut, mentions of past abuse, trauma and ptsd

Relationships: Astarion/named!Tav, Astarion/f!tav, Shadowzel, Wyllach, and some light implied Halsin/Astarion/Tav later on in the story if you squint.

Chapter 1: Love at First Knife

A bottle shattered next to a pair of boots. Their owner stumbled through the forest heading in no direction in particular. She was very drunk, barely registering that her poorly bandaged hand was bleeding again. It didn't matter anyway, if something in the woods didn't kill her tonight her former boss absolutely will later. 

“I deserve it.” She slurred to no one in particular. “I deserve all of this.” Her eyes began to leak fat tears again. A year ago she was a different person, ruthless, capable, on track to be one of the most in demand assassins on the Sword Coast. Then everything changed the moment that sorceress’ lips pressed against her own. The bitterness, the misanthropic behavior melted away and she was left confused and deconstructed. Was this truly who she wanted to be? Could she be more than a blade in the dark? Nyra sure thought so, before her throat was cut. Now the Dread Raven wanders the woods alone again, intoxicated and haunted by ghosts who saw something better in her. “I can't do this Nyra,  I can't.” She sobs as if talking to someone who isn't there. “I'm not a good person, I never have been. Fuck why'd you have to die I dont know what I'm doing, why’d you have to fucking leave?!” she screams into the dark, her voice going hoarse. 

“Show me what to do or let me end please.” She was begging now, begging her dead lover, the gods, anyone who would listen really. “I don't want to be alone anymore.” The drow sobs quietly as she comes to the edge of a steep cliffside, a peaceful beach below it with waves crashing into the rocks. It would be so easy, just a couple more steps…..but she stops as if something won't let her continue. “You are so much more than what they made you to be Inala.” Nyra’s words echoed in her brain as if she was still here. “Fight for it. Fight for you and everyone else this fucked up world screwed over. If anyone can change their stars its you. Fight back.” the drow crashed to her knees. 

“Ok.” She said quietly tears falling onto the rock below her. “Fuck you. You win, I'll fight.” she sighed swaying with the wind a bit as she cast her eyes upwards to the stars. “I want to live.” she whispered to herself. Then just as her drunken hallucinations had reached their final crescendo one more massive one appeared in front of her. Raw fear gripped the drow’s heart as a tentacle shot forward from the massive ship. Well so much for wanting a second chance.

____________________

Inala groaned and rolled onto her side, her head pounding with what might be the worst hangover in history. This is why she doesn't like sleeping too often. What a gods damn weird dream. Illithids, a Githyanki, apparently they drove a Nautaloid through Avernus? She wanted to just lay there for a bit longer until her head stopped screaming at her and the nausea subsided but the smell of fire and destruction had her up quickly. Oh gods. It wasn't a dream. 

She had been on this ship and crashed it into the beach. Somehow her rock bottom had just become so much worse. The drow stood up on wobbly legs, her long raven hair tangled and caked in sand, her makeup smudged across her freckled cheeks and she was pretty sure she reeked of gore and whiskey. She dared not look at her reflection right now but at least she's not a mindflayer. Well, not yet. Right, healer find a healer. Wasn't that one shadow woman a cleric? Shit maybe she lived? 

The ranger stretched and groaned, her body sore and her mind still foggy. She breathed in, taking in her surroundings searching for signs of survivors from the crash. Find the cleric. 

Inala didn't have to wander far, the dark haired woman laid on her back intact and what looked to be mostly unharmed. She noticed her hand clutched that strange artifact she had seen on the ship that had been quickly hidden away from her the moment she took interest in it. The drow thought for a moment, eyes flicking to the cleric and then to the glowing object. She decided to carefully reach out to it hoping to get a better look at whatever valuable item this half elf was keeping hidden, maybe even use it as leverage…then suddenly she was caught, the cleric sat upright holding a knife to the drow’s chest. Inala backed up hands in the air. “Sorry!” she grinned sheepishly “I was just looking!” 

“And why would I believe you?” The half elf eyed her with suspicion. Inala felt the thing in her head squirm then connect to the cleric, their thoughts and intentions shared with another. They both stumbled back. 

“That thing they put in our heads you…you have the same one?” The half elf stuttered. 

“What the hells was that? You were in my head!?” the drow snarled, her hangover not helping the trobing that came from the worm's activity in her skull.

“I…I don't know. I remember the ship I remember falling then nothing. That's all I know. They….they put something in our heads.”

The two women stared at one another in a stalemate, then finally Inala set her weapons on the ground putting up her empty hands “Look we need to cooperate if we're going to live through this. I don't want to become a mindflayer and I'm guessing you dont either. Where's the green woman?” 

“Lae'zell? She seems to have run off without us. Seems like I'm more reliable than your friend.” the half elf smirked putting her own knife away and crossing her arms.

Inala glared now rubbing her head “Well do you have any ideas on how to fix this then? Because she was the only person who seemed to have some sort of knowledge of what happened to us.” 

“No, but first things first we need supplies and shelter.”

Inala smiled at that, finally something in her wheelhouse. “Leave that to me. I've lived outdoors all my life. I can throw a camp together for us if you agree to cooperate. I want this worm out just as much as you do.” 

“Alright we help each other then. You can call me Shadowheart. That's all you need to know.”

“Fine. You can call me Inala and that's also all you need to know.” they nodded at one another both sensing the other was also a very guarded and private individual. They set off to salvage through the wreckage not encountering much but a few walking brains to fight. Finding the githyanki in this mess was going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. What Inala would give to have her crows right about now…Wherever they are. Her poor feathered friends were probably worried sick about her. She'd find them soon and then she'd pack up and leave. Go somewhere far away where no one knew of her past alias or the horrible things she had done. Maybe join a circus or something who knows at this point. 

Hours passed until they came out through a section of wreckage that opened up to a clearing overlooking the beach below. A disoriented man stood at the edge of the cliff and the ranger paused. 

“There's someone up ahead.”

The pale elf turned to the two women. He waved frantically in their direction shouting “Help!” To them as they approached. 

“Do you see it? There in the bushes I got one of those brain things cornered. You can kill it can't you?” He pointed out towards the beach. Inala glared at him eyeing his fancy embroidery and flashy purple doublet. Her eyes traced his slender form to the dagger on his hip. 

“You seem pretty capable, kill it yourself.” Inala grumbled unimpressed with this city dwelling noble, he reminded her of the pricks she used kill for. The drow turned to leave and then with almost supernatural speed and silence she felt a cool blade at her throat as she was pulled to the ground. 

“Shhhhhhh not a sound not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.” he purred as she struggled then turned to her companion. “And you keep your distance no need for this to get messy.”

Was this fool serious? Inala could kill him in three different ways if she wanted to and wipe that smug grin right off his pretty face. “Really wish people would stop pulling knives on me today.” She groaned and the elf pressed the blade into her throat a little more. 

“Now now I just want to talk. I saw you on the ship didn't I? Nod.” He gave the command and the drow glared at him her eyes becoming silver slits as she obeyed. 

“Good.” he purred and then twisted the knife upwards when she struggled. “You're in league with them aren't you? Those tentacled-” the drow slammed her forehead into his before he could finish seeing an opportunity in the city elf's paranoia and taking it. He stumbled back holding his head as Shadowheart ran to assist her. The pale elf snarled his red eyes going dark as he shifted his grip on his dagger “You little-AH” in that moment their heads connected. Inala could see through his eyes, the dark alleyways the noisy taverns, the fear the pain. In moments they saw into each others souls. The elf's eyes widened a bit as she flooded his mind, flashes of an arrow sailing into a body with a thud, the excited screaming of corvids, the isolation and familiarity of darkness. They held their heads and stared at each other for a beat recognizing more than just a shared parasite affliction. 

“What was that what's going on?” He demanded. 

“Those things did something to us. The worms they're connected I think.” The drow snapped at him glaring in his direction. 

The stranger straightened himself dropping his blade “You're …you're not one of them, they took you just the same as me.” 

“I'm trying to find a cure so we don't become mindflayers. I saw it happen on the ship and I won't be sharing the same fate.” 

“Turn us into mindflayers I- aha hahahaha!” He paused and began to laugh to himself while the horror and pain were evident behind his eyes. “Of course it will turn me into a monster.” He sighed sadly. 

She stared at the pale beautiful man in fancy embroidery. He wouldn't last a day out here on his own and he did get the jump on her, he could be useful potentially. 

“My name is Astarion. I was a magistrate in Baldur's Gate when those things grabbed me.”

The drow glanced up at him and considered something for a moment. “Im Inala. I'm a ranger in these woods. Do you need a place to camp? I suppose we should all stick together.” she asked him as Shadowheart looked on bewildered that her newfound companion just offered a strange man with a knife shelter. The handsome elf paused 

“I was going to go this alone but sticking with the herd might not be a bad idea.” He smiled almost in relief. The drow returned his grin and held out her hand. Astarion hesitated then extended his own before being yanked forward, the rangers grip tight on his wrist. “One more thing city boy.” She hissed and twisted his arm behind him, her own dagger coming to rest under his chin. “If you pull a knife on me again I won't be as nice.” 

Astarion audibly swallowed. “Noted.” He croaked out as he was released and shoved forward. 

“That goes for you as well cleric, next person to threaten me with a blade loses the hand holding it.” Inala grumbled and marched ahead of her two companions. 

“Feisty. I like it.” the elf rubbed the spot on his chin where her knife had been raising an eyebrow in interest. The cleric next to him groaned.

____________________

Their search for the githyanki had become much more tedious than anticipated. They had been through most of the wreckage and all they found was a tadpoled wizard in a rock formation who wasn't amused when Inala slapped his hand instead of pulling him free. Whatever he set himself up for that one. 

There was a ruin ahead,and said wizard, who went by Gale, began to insist that they investigate sensing magic in the area or something. 

“And what do you even expect to find in this dust covered death trap?” The pale elf asked as they made their way down the path. 

“Hopefully something useful to help us deal with the parasites in our brains.” Gale replied marching ahead of the group. Astarion suddenly stopped and put his hand out to the two women behind him. 

“We're not alone.” he hissed as Gale continued to talk away ahead of them. 

“How do you know?” Inala whispered back.

“I can hear them! Several people down in the ruin one on watch.”

“I don't hear anything!” Shadowheart glanced around trying to hear whatever the fuck the elf was tuned in to.  Inala also tried to listen for voices but got nothing. “I have no idea what you're on about.” she stared at him with suspicion. Either the elf was mad, or he happened to be blessed with the best set of ears in Faerun.

“Ugh we need to get closer clearly you both have abysmal hearing.”

“Or you're just a freak.” Shadowheart laughed earning her a glare. 

That's when Inala saw the smoke from a campfire above the trees. Fuck the elf was right. Acting quick she bolted ahead and grabbed the wizard by the mouth pulling him off the main road and into cover holding his blabbering lips shut as he squirmed in protest. Astarion and Shadowheart had already joined her, the four of them glancing at one another for direction. 

“What do we do?” Shadowheart whispered as gale made a noise of protest. 

“Someone needs to scout ahead and determine if they're friendly. I vote for the city elf since he seems to have freak hearing.” the ranger suggested still holding a struggling Gale.

Shadowheart snickered again. 

Astarion glared at the drow. “And I vote for the ranger since she seems to think she's in charge.”

Inala turned to him. “Well I don't see any of you making important decisions for the group.” 

“Then allow me to be the first. Go scout ahead darling.” 

Inala huffed and glared back at the rogue releasing Gale as she did. The wizard spun around at both of them.

“Well since the two of you seem to be so fond of eachother why don't you both go and take your bickering far away from here.”

They both turned their annoyance to Gale who finished dusting himself off. The ranger and the rogue eyed one another suspiciously. 

“Only if he can finally keep his mouth shut. Are you even capable of that city boy?”

“I got the jump on you didnt I? Wild girl.” He sneered back and Inala wanted to wipe that pointy smug grin off his pretty face. 

“How about the both of you stop posturing and actually do your jobs.” Shadowheart groaned in annoyance. 

“He started it.” 

“Did not.”

Gale shoved both of them back onto the dirt path “Just get on with it already! I swear the two of you are the noisiest scouts alive!” 

________________

They approached the ruin in relative silence. Inala was even mildly impressed that the elf was as stealthy as he boasted. As they crept up behind a bush they could see a man posted on lookout and Astarion made a few gestures to her with his hands. Oh good he actually knows theives cant the city elf may be useful after all. 

I count 7. 

He signed to her and to his surprise she signed back. 

8 there's one behind the door. 

They both acknowledged the old wooden door the rest seemed to be guarding. 

What do you think is behind it?

The elf asked and Inala smiled to herself as the gears in her head began to turn. She turned back to him.

If it's valuable, I want it. 

That seemed to warm him up to her. A sinister grin grew on Astarion's lips as he peered over the bushes once more to get a look at the door. “Hmm maybe you're not so annoying after all ranger.” he whispered. 

“Shall we get the others?”

“Do we need to?”

“Only if you think you can't handle a few bandits.”

“Oh trust me, I'm more than capable.” 

“Good, I'm dropping the crates.”

“The what?”

Before he could protest the drow already had her bow out and aiming for a stack of heavy crates secured in a net above the camp. With a single shot she severed the rope watching them fall through the wooden platform they were secured over, taking two of the bandits with them. Astarion had no choice but to leap into action. He took aim at the guard and landed an arrow in his gut then followed up by jumping the man and slicing his throat. Inala had leapt up onto what was left of a stone arch firing an arrow through a half elf's eye then dropped from above onto the remaining bandit driving her hatchet into her skull. She spun in time to dodge a crossbow bolt shot at her by a halfling on the second story preparing herself to counter when an arrow flew through the man's throat shot by Astarion from the other side. The ranger and the rogue both glanced at one another with newfound respect as Gale and Shadowheart caught up to them. 

“The hells happened? You two were supposed to scout ahead?!” The wizard yelled at the both of them. 

“Oops.” The drow giggled as she cleaned her ax. 

“Why are you even complaining wizard? We did all the dirty work for you.” Astarion scoffed as he began to loot the bodies. 

“You murdered five people!” Gale gestured wildly to the carnage around them. 

“Technically it was seven. I wouldn't call it murder really, I just got to them before they could kill me.” Inala rolled her eyes as she tossed Shadowheart a pouch full of food. Astarion gestured over to Inala.

“See the drow gets it!”

“Oh so you're friends now.” Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at him.

“Friends is a strong word cleric.” Inala huffed 

“More like colleagues who appreciate a fellow artist's work.” Astarion gave the drow a dramatic bow which she returned with an appreciative nod. 

“Why are all of you obsessed with violence?” Gale hissed as the door they had all forgotten about burst open with several fireballs being slung in their direction. 

“Shit!” The four of them cursed in unison.

More bandits poured out into the ruin resulting in an all out brawl. Inala rushed the first one, easily landing a devastating blow to the torso with her hatchets then spun the dying man around to use as a meat shield for an incoming volley of arrows. Shadowheart had fired a beam of light at the dwarf who had Inala pinned but was overtaken by a dragonborn with a greatsword. Inala snarled and lept into action fighting him back with a few well executed counter maneuvers. He caught her once on the side and the drow saw red, leaping at him and driving her hatchet deep into the side of the dragon man's neck. She could feel her companions eyes on her, the pale elf in particular seemed awestruck by the blood and viscera that dripped from her skin. Freak. Inala thought to herself as she helped Shadowheart to her feet. The cleric healed her quickly then turned to help Gale as a few more bandits trickled out of the ruin. Inala could have sworn she saw the elf try to sniff his blade as he pulled it out of the chest cavity of one of them. The drow began to wonder what the hells mind flayers wanted with a collection of violent weirdos like them.

 The final enemy fell with a scream in agony as their wizard delivered one last bolt of lightning straight to their back and then the battle was over. Bodies littered the outside of the old temple and blood stained the sand. The newly formed party panted and stood in the carnage glancing at one another. They'd all done well with their first test as a team. Astarion of course is the first to break the calm.

“Well it seems like we're all much more capable than we've been letting on ey?” 

“Will someone please shut him up?” Inala groaned and began to silently loot the corpses. 

Gale sighed and stretched his back “Oh believe me we are all wishing for it.”

___________________________________________

And thats chapter one! The gang is definitely going to need some team building exercises that dont involve murder but they at least work well together despite being disasters. Next chapter involves telling eachother secrets and some bonding. Hope you guys liked it!

[wowgodmusthateme]

Lo’ak accepting neteyams death

So this is my first requests and my first I guess you can say angst story, It was supposed to be short and simple but I got carried away.

TW: Lo’ak blaming himself , lo’ak and jake crying together (Jake being a good dad🥺)

I hope you guys enjoy and my requests are open

Hey, it’s not your fault

It’s been 2 months, a week and five days since the death of netayam, that day was engraved in everyone’s minds, the blood, The tears, the loud cries from netiri . It was eating him alive it’s all he could think about, he couldn’t escape, even in his sleep that nightmarish day plagued his mind. Everyone around him could tell how it was effecting him, his eyes had lost all its wonder, he stopped talking, stayed out of trouble and did what he was told. It didn’t take a genius to see that he blamed himself.

1st person pov.

Life was now meaningless, there’s no point of doing anything without him around to nag me. It should have been me, was the only thought that lingered in my mind as I stared out into the open sea, I found myself doing that a lot lately. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear my father sit down beside me, “son” he said, he tried to sound tuff, he tried to sound strong, but I know more than anyone that he’s not “it’s not your fault” . That’s what they all say, but it is, if I would have listened he would still be here, it makes me angry. I want to shout. I want to scream, so hard and so loud that eywa finally takes pity on me and steals my breath right out of my lungs. I want to be with him again.

The sound of my father, clearing his throat is what brought me back, only then did I feel the hot tears streaming down my face. When I lifted my had to wipe my face my father’s hand caught my wrist “don’t” he said, his voice shaking. When I looked up I saw something I’d never thought I’d see , my farther, the great toruk makto with tears in his eyes, and for some reason that’s all it took to push me over the edge. I couldn’t fight the tears any longer, they came out in broken sobs immediately I was pulled into my fathers chest. I felt his chest shake. He was crying. We cried together for a long while, I let so many tears fall that I was convinced there was no more water in my body.

“He misses you” I looked up at my father, his eyes were bloodshot red, “lo’ak son you must go see your brother” a lump appeared in my throat I was sure that if I opened my mouth that my sobs would start again. “Yes sir”

We mounted my father’s skimwing, the journey to the spirit tree was painfully slow, and quite the only sound that could be herd were the waves. They used to be beautiful they used to be calming, but now they only live as a dreadful reminder. When we arrived at the cove of our ancestors, i was the only one to dismount the creature, this was my journey and my journey alone. The tree of our ancestors was supposed to be a happy place, a place of great joy but all I could feel was sadness.

When I connected my queue I was immediately transported home, not the beach but home. It made me feel warm, it made me smile. I herd the sound of a stream and felt a strong pull towards the sound of the water I let my feet take me to the sound. Then I found it. I found him. He must’ve felt my presence, when he turned around I ran to him I’m an instance. I hugged him so tight, I feared that I’d break his ribs. He embraced me back. We stayed like that for what felt like a century. When we finally pulled back he was smiling.

“Im sorry, i should have listen, it should have been me” his smiled dropped in an instant. “ no” he said resting his hand on my shoulder “ no this path was chosen for me a long time ago and so was yours, this is not your fault, I am at peace, i am finally home” he said with a smile “it is time to let go my brother, it is time for you to find peace” “netayam” I said with a shaky voice “lo’ak brother I see you” he said before fading away.

[areislol]

HI HI IM LIKE IN LOVE WITH THAT CHILDE CONFESSING STREAMER OBE SDFYUNI i go soft for your fics. they are So Good TY FOR THE MEDIA IT IS SCRUMPTIOUS.!!! can i req like general daily living while dating streamef genshin men? like , theyve confessed, snd now they live together. reader could also stream!!

streamer! childe, xiao, dainsleif, kaeya x reader

ft— childe, xiao, dainsleif, kaeya warnings— slightly suggestive, fluff!!, long.. kind of went overboard, clingy sleepy men <3 a/n— not be blushing when you called my work scrumptious, and it seems that you enjoy my work, if you do im so glad <3 i hope you enjoy this!! make sure to take care of yourself and stay safe, also i can't stop thinking about how you called my work scrumptious, i literally screamed when i saw your message, im sobbing(in a good way), sliding down the wall dramatically and kissing my screen rn fr

btw reader also streams too!! if you’d rather reader to not be a streamer just ignore those parts(there will also be parts for not streamer! reader) also the first song matches more w/ childe + kaeya and the second song fits well with xiao + dain.

recommend listening to: until i found you - stephan sanchez(sped up) + paano - zack tabudlo(sped up) (LIKE I REALLY RECOMMEND IT)

streamer! childe x reader

“I would never fall in love again until I found her I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"”

(im sorry, the song is just stuck in my head) <- this is me trying to make you listen to the song.

(come on... listen to itttt)

ahem. but anyways

you and childe have confessed and have officially started to date!! and to be honest, it’s actually pretty fun to be around childe! of course he has always been fun to hang out with but... now that you two are ACTUALLY dating, this “fun” has become much more

okay so have i told you about what childe did to you after you(or he confessed)? no? what a shame..

but basically after you confessed childe full froze and blah blah blah BUT, not only that but he full on lunged at you while wrapping his arms around your body, his hand on your head to make sure you didn’t injure your head from falling backwards. he nestled himself deep into the crook of your neck while sighing <3

it was kind of an awkward pose but hey, you weren’t complaining ;)

“this isn’t a dream right?” “nooooo?” “good.”

childe then looks at you, he leaned in for a kiss but he made sure to look at your face to see any sign of discomfort but instead he found you leaning in as well

he took that as a sign to just go for it(IT WAS A SIGN!!) and kissed you on the lip, it was a very passionate kiss, not an over exaggerated kiss.

the kiss lasted more than he or you expected but you two weren’t complaining, after registering the fact that childe literally kissed you, you became red from embarrassment, hiding your face with your hands but childe is quick to stop you by holding onto your wrists and oh lord

the face he gave you made you melt inside and out, he looked so soft. he looked absolutely in love, no.. madly in love.

“why are you trying to hide your face? was the kiss too good?~” “shut up! and the kiss was good okay!!”

your response took childe back by surprise as you never really said stuff like that but he didn’t mind <3 he just pecks your cheeks and helps you sit back up before hugging you, for hours.

(^ goes for the same if childe confesses to you but your.. childe, OR if you’re shy then the dialogue can be reversed)

NOW LETS GET INTO THE GENERAL STUFF YOU WOULD BE EXPERIENCING WHILE DATING THEM(and living with them)

mornings with childe would be a bit peaceful but romantic, if you would even call it that.

he would cling onto you when you’re trying to get out of bed to go get ready but he REFUSES, he wants to sleep in more with you but he knows he can’t as he has scheduled meetings with other streamers so he, in the end always gets up but not without holding your hand or shirt

when he wakes up he has... really bad bed hair but you find it cute because he looks like a baby.

while you’re walking to the bathroom, childe just trails behind you, rubbing his eyes. he’s stumbling as this point, he doesn’t want to wake up!! he’s like half asleep but once you and childe are in the bathroom and you turn on the light he’s fully awake now

you grab your toothbrush and start to brush your teeth, childe is right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist while tired eyes looks at you

smiles <3 always smiles when he’s with you!!

sometimes you have to help him get ready cause he acts like he’s still half asleep though he’s fully awake.

“mmmmm thanks love...” “always”

after getting ready and everything, childe is now more awake due to the amount of sunlight that is coming into the house, basically blinding him

you sit down on the table while childe goes to the kitchen

oh did you know.. childe would literally make breakfast for you, yeah i know.. can he even cook? absolutely not! but he’ll take cooking lessons just for you <3 he wants you to enjoy the food that he made for you, he makes sure to neatly put it on your plate or bowl, sometimes if he’s feeling lazy he’ll STILL make a meal that is simple yet cute

he would use a sauce or anything to make a smiley face or a love heart and just put it on the dish and man, it gets you every time.

bro is so happy that he’s dating you, he’s like madly in love.

SOOOO clingy towards you, clings onto you like a baby koala but you aren’t complaining as he looks adorable with his cheek being squished by your hips while begging for you to not go

if childe has a meeting with another streamer or just busy over all he makes sure you still get the attention you deserve by sending you little texts, for example: “did you eat babe? if you haven’t make sure to grab some snacks from the pantry! we have LOAAADS of snacks >:)” “i ate some already, but now that you mentioned snacks... might make a little visit to the pantry..”

when you send him little snacks that you made he makes sure to savour it <3 also takes a picture of it and sends it to zhongli or another streamer and says “look at what my dear y/n made me >:) look at you lonely peasants”

is so proud that you’re his lover and is not afraid to show it!! during his breaks he comes running to you, hugs you really tightly and takes his phone out to show a picture of you in his hold, even if you’re face is like ?!?!? he would still put a text saying “look how my y/n looks! so pretty/handsome right?” “very pretty/handsome :)” “i know right?! like look how their cheeks are so pinchable!” “haha... yeah?”

if you’re a streamer as well then that would kind of work out? even if you’re not a streamer childe will always find a way to make things work out, you and childe would exchange a lot of lovey dovey texts while not busy or anything but childe is relieved that you’re not alone nor lonely as you have other people with you to cheer you up or make your day better(although he likes to do them himself).

orders a lot of your favourite food during whatever time!! when you’re hungry of course.

knows what you’re about to say due to the amount of times you’ve said it but doesn’t mind, loves how he knows what you’re going to say <3

like one day you’re hungry and starving so you walk over to childe’s room and knock on his door, “anything wrong love?” “yes.. im hungry and-” “you want kfc?” “...yes”

childe loves to see you enjoying your food, the way you hum when you finally bite down on your food just sends his heart into a frenzy, he just likes to see you satisfied okay?!

oh! he loves to spend his money on you, even if you’re scared that he’ll go into debt or something - he’s quick to reassure you and tells you that he’ll never run out of money(dont jinx it pretty boy) and just goes on to bring you to many shops and many food shops as he knows that’s what you like best!

once it’s dark and childe finishes with everything he’s finally happy that he can go have fun with you or sleep with you!!

childe just gets up from his chair and opens the door, trying to find where you are and is very happy to see you sitting on the couch watching a movie, he walks over to you and plops down next to you, and of course he gives you a quick peck on your cheek before looking at what you’re watching

“watching it again?” “mhm, i want to see the plot again!” “(˘⌣˘) of course”

i would say nights with childe are absolutely beautiful.

the way he just stays by your side all night long makes your heart beat 100x more

now you might be thinking that showering and privacy would be a BIG problem as childe is a “pervert” but that’s not the case!

he’s actually really respecting of your privacy and even if he wishes to bathe with you he knows he cant until you allow him or until you’re finally comfortable.

if he ever, accidentally forgets that you’re still naked from showering he would IMMEDAITELY cover his eyes with his hands and shut the door quickly while spitting out millions and billions of apologies, even if you accept his apology and say “it’s okay” he will never forgive himself for walking in while you were still changing/naked, he wants you to know that he cares a lot about your privacy!!

if you forget your clothes or towel while done showering and ask for his help, he will not hesitate to help(duh) but he will be mindful that you’re still uhm.. undressed or “naked”, the thought of you.. naked makes his face go absolutely red, he’s not really ashamed of thinking that..? it’s normal anyways

when handing you your clothes, he opens the door but he only opens it slightly that he can fit his arm through so you can grab whatever you needed.

once you’re finally comfortable or allow childe to bathe with you he is ECSTATIC!! not in a weird way of course.. he has just been wanting you to wash his hair <3 he’s been wanting to wash your hair too!! childe read about how some lovers do to these type of stuff so the thought of doing them with you just excites him

offers to wash your body is you allow him too!! if you wash his body too he would be embarrassed, i mean like.. what if you see his hard dick

whhuh, i mean whaaaaat? 🤨

would tease you a lot while bathing together, no surprises there.. sometimes he makes really suggestive comments but you two would always laugh in the end, commenting about how it was a bit cheesy.

maybe your guys humour is just broken.

makes a beard with the bubbles, makes you a bubble crown and puts it on your head <3

blows a lot of bubbles towards you but not to your face as he doesn’t want soap or bubbles in your eyes!!

helps you get out of the tub or shower, is always careful when holding you(not when he’s sleeping lmfao)

helps you blow dry your hair, only if you do the same to him too(kidding), wants to be apart of your “self care thingy or whatever it’s called!!”, loves it when you apply cream on his face, or when you put a face mask on him - because once you take it off he feels so fresh and pretty.

goes for night too^^

speaking of the night, when you two are in the bathroom getting ready to sleep...

you and childe are brushing your teeth he’s holding onto your hand, tightly.

yes, he can never let go of you.

after brushing your teeth you two go to your shared bed and you two slip under the covers.

you and childe hug each other for body warmth, you’re up against his chest while his legs are lazily over yours and he just puts his whole weight on you but it’s okay as he makes sure to not put too much pressure on your body.

you can always hear his soft snores, it’s adorable.

like i stated, childe will cling onto you, even while sleeping! it’s like.. his instinct? one move and he’ll pull you closer to him, your face is now in between his chest, can you even breathe?

but in the end he will let go eventually(a little bit), so you have air.

but lord, when he’s sleeping and the moonlight hits his face... he just looks ethereal, so beautiful. are you sure this is the childe you knew? he looked so peaceful

his mouth slightly agape(open) while letting out soft snores, his hair was messy yet looked so soft, his face looked so relaxed, many it was because he was sleeping, maybe it was because it was quiet and peaceful, or maybe it was because you were beside him, your presence alone can help him relax and loosen all tensity in his body or muscles.

do you know how much he loves and adores you?

(also expect a lot of kisses, like a lot. in the morning, afternoon, night, midnight - not a single day goes by where he doesn’t kiss you!!)

(also calls you ‘my snookums’)

streamer! xiao x reader

this man can’t even grasp onto the fact that he’s literally dating YOU, like.. YOU

?!?!

it’s not a dream, not a figment of his imagination, he’s actually dating you!

but yeah..

ever since he has started to date you he has had the urge to just pinch and pull your cheeks, don’t look at me i don’t know why 🤷‍♀️

i just wanted to add that there

ahem, but anyways! living with xiao would be so relaxing? and peaceful?? there’s not a day where you don’t feel absolutely in love with xiao.

waking up next to xiao, ah.. what a dream, except! you’re not dreaming!

let me just try to describe what it’s like waking up next to xiao <3

you know that feeling when you wake up and it slightly cold, but not too cold and you move around in your bed and your sheets make those like ruffling noises? it sounds peaceful right? that’s cause it is :)

the windows are covered with sheer curtains, the soft glow of light shines on xiao’s face, and god does he looks like an angel.

mornings when xiao’s mouth is slightly agape, the colors of yellow, orange and red would shine down on his face, were always the best mornings.

he just looked so damn cute, you could just pinch his cheeks right there and then but you always refrain from doing so, you didn’t want to wake him up from his beauty sleep.

but sometimes you get so annoyed at his cute face and scream softly while stopping yourself from grabbing onto his face

most of the time, xiao wakes up first - only to admire your face of course. you looked so cute with your messy hair<3

basically, you both admire each other, without each other knowing..

once you both wake up, xiao always wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer where you’re up against his chest

majority of the time xiao is still half asleep, so he’s always nuzzling up against your neck while groaning, sleepily.

(does that make sense)

and when xiao does that, you just pat his head and kiss his temple before struggling to get up as you keep on forgetting that he has quite literally “trapped” you.

eventually, you’ll always manage to convince xiao to just get up so you two can get ready for the day

while you’re walking to the bathroom xiao is still holding onto you, hugging you.

sometimes he stumbles and you always giggle when he does so

you and xiao have matching toothbrushes!! you have a cute brown bear toothbrush and xiao has a cute white bear toothbrush

xiao is kind of embarrassed that he has this type of toothbrush as he’s not all “cutesy wootsy” but if you like the idea of having matching toothbrushes.. who is he to say no?

xiao is that “emo” type of person(no hate), he doesn’t like bright colors or anything too “happy” but when he’s living with you, NOT TO MENTION.. dating you, how could he be like that?!

he doesn’t mind what you do to his place, if you like the color pink and add some pink decorations in the bathroom like, for example: a pink sanrio carpet, a pink toothbrush holder, pink curtains

he would not mind it, not one bit. finds it quite domestic actually.

xiao has never thought of living with someone, living with his crush.

his house was.. dull if you would call it. not too much decorations, a bit plain, nothing bright or eye catching. that was until he has met you and after you met and started to date.

when he first met you he went out shopping to buy some house and room decorations, he didn’t want you to think of him as bland!

after dating you, when you started to add your own little decorations around the house it felt so.. domestic to him? he doesn’t know how to describe the feeling.

his dull and boring house, being filled with your lively decors just makes the house feel more like a home.

when you were adding the decorations around the house, xiao couldn’t help but look at you as a parent, a hard working and loving parent putting down some home decor that they had bought.

like decorating their soon to be born baby’s room.

if you like colors like pink, purple, red, yellow, or any bright-ish/pastel color and start decorating xiao’s house with them, he would be absolutely in love with you(he already is but shhh)

now moving on!!

xiao would never let go of you, even if he did he doesn’t want to

even in the shower ;( but that’s later in the years/months of dating

speaking of showering, this man is too much of a gentlemen, letting you go first <3 if you’re the type to use a lot of hot water then this is going to be the best thing ever.

he doesn’t mind showering in cold water, as long as you’re all warm and all :)

i would say xiao wouldn’t shower with you till you’re comfortable around him(you already are but that’s a different story)

if you don’t mind taking a shower with xiao then that would be great as xiao would wash your back for you if your hands can’t reach to touch your back.

absolutely no suggestive acts in the shower, unless you know.. you want to do it.. in the shower..

when you two are in the bath tub and there’s bubbles everywhere xiao loves to place the bubbles on your head and make cute little crowns or hats.

HE LOVES IT WHEN HE USES YOUR (body)SHAMPOO!!!

xiao absolutely loves it when he smells like you <3 as it reminds him of you, especially when he’s not there with you or just busy.

when xiao is streaming he’s always quick to ask you if you want to join, if you say no because your busy with making food or just don’t want to join he won’t force you to and just give you a quick kiss on your cheek before saying “mkay, call me if you need me ok?”

if you’re also a streamer, it reassures xiao that you won’t be lonely and you’ll have people to interact with :)

sometimes xiao would just watch your stream and often sends in messages there and then, “Y/NNNNNN!!!” “xiao-? is that you..?” “YES IT IS”

yes i know xiao isn’t the type of person to type in caps out in the public but he really wants you to notice him so... you can’t blame him!!

xiao’s in his room most of the time, if not then he would be with you, sitting on the couch watching movies/youtube, playing games with you, shopping with you, basically doing anything with you

he would also help you with cooking! he’s not an expert like cooking but he’ll help you with stuff like cutting the vegetables or herbs(yes, he doesn’t want you to accidentally cut your fingers off, even if you persist, no. but he would still allow you too, he’d just be eyeing your every move.), putting the scraps in the scrap bowl and washing the dishes.

he would take cooking classes for you but he has got a lot stuff to do and doesn’t have enough time to take cooking classes, that’s why he’s trying to minimize his work as he’s only a (big) streamer and doesn’t really need to do anything and tries to take some cooking lessons with you :)

if you both go to cooking class, expect many kisses in between sessions <3

you could be cutting some onions for a dish and while xiao is cutting some tomatoes he would just lean over and give you a kiss on your temple

sometimes he does it out of no where that you, most of the time end up freezing and blushing profusely.

like where did all this confidence come from? 🤨

(kidding..)

moving onto the night, xiao would most definenetly follow you where ever you go.

you stand up to go grab a snack? he’s coming with you too, what’ll happen if the monster from the show you two are watching kidnaps you!! you’re going to go brush your teeth early? ah well okay xiao might as well come with you too!

hopefully you don’t mind clingy men 🤞

before, xiao never really did anything during the night. he’d just edit his videos, brush his teeth, wash his face and go to sleep.

but now he has to do whatever you’re doing too. instead of you asking him if he would like to do skin care with you he’s just in front of you, looking straight at you and he’s just... there..

waiting for you to do your thing, you know..

i mean, you’re happy? you’re glad that he’s allowing you too but not only that but he actually wants to do it? like what.

but hey, you’re not mad!

(the reason he does this is because 1, he knows it’ll make him feel fresh, and it does. 2, it makes you and him closer <3 3, doesn’t want to go to bed alone)

he just loves it when you gently move his head so you can apply some cream on his face, xiao always looks at you when you’re placing a face mask on his face because you look so concentrated and it’s so cute!!

when you two finally go to sleep he would cling onto you for the rest of the night, even if it’s hot.. hopefully you don’t suffocate!!

imagine this, you’re facing your left and your back is towards xiao and he just huffs when you keep on turning over(he wants to see your cute face shh) so he just hugs you from behind, puts his head either nuzzling your neck or placing his head on your back and he’s just hugging you like a koala.

but every day you, when you wake up you always find yourself facing towards xiao.. sometimes your legs are over his stomach or legs and xiao’s still knocked out cold, weird..

streamer! dainsleif x reader

just wanna know how you both confessed without being a total mess.

it’s basically impossible but hey, you both did it!

(but can you guys imagine dain trying to confess to you without stumbling over his words and being red?!?)

now.. living with dainsleif huh? that’s definenetly something! in the start of the relationship dainsleif was extremely clingy towards you, that sounds unlike him right?

but you gotta know, dain has been CRAVING your touch, he wants to hug you, to hold you tightly, he wants you to run your hands through his hair, to press a kiss on top of his head.

ever since you’ve been next to him(been in his house) he just has this urge to just hold you, you know? he wants to keep you in his arms forever <3

so ever since you and dain have started to date he has been clinging onto you just like a baby koala.

like in the mornings dain is hugging you from behind and he’s snoring lightly, when you wake up you could barely open your eyes, rubbing your eyes you slowly regain your eyesight but you still couldn’t really see anything for a while but boy did you look angry.

you were pouting while squinting, turning around just to barely see dainsleif. although you couldn’t make out anything in front of you, you could still smell the familiar scent of your lover and his light snoring.

you could hear little murmurs coming out of dain’s mouth

dain would groan something like: “mmmmmhm” and hug you even tighter and you would just be looking at him like this: “???” but you find it adorable so you don’t really care

dain would hold/hug onto you harder each time you move, his brow furrows every time you you try to move away from him as you need to get up and get your day started but he just refuses, he also has a pout on, always.

and when he does eventually wake up he just finds you in an awkward position. it’s always a pose where from he just hugs you from behind to him hugging your chest while you’re just laying there like “ 🧍‍♀️ “...

and his legs are always over yours. no question.

but other than that, dainsleif looks absolutely ethereal when he wakes up, even with bed hair. his hair could be all over the place but you still find him attractive.

dainsleif looks dazed when he wakes up, he’s also a bit confused. so while he’s rubbing his eyes he’s also grabbing onto your sleeve, tightly.

(how does he have that strength even when waking up..)

“morning dain :)” “mmmmh, mornin’ love...”, you’re always sure to take is slow with him during the morning because he’s practically still half-asleep when he’s awake.

he’d also say some things that are normally said drunk, like mini confessions but not really anymore since you’ve heard them many times.

“?? you’re so pretty..wow” “dain? oh- well, thank you love.. but lets get you to the toilet first.. kay?” “m’kay”

everytime dain says stuff like that you can’t help but just melt, so while you’re helping dain getting up and putting his arm around your neck your face is just pure red and you have that “HE’S SO CUTE GOD DAMN IT” face on.

but dain will eventually get himself back together when he’s washing his face.

but please don’t tell him about what he said while he was a big dazed!! he’ll be extremely embarrassed and will uh... cry?

you still tell him anyways!

and dain just looks at you, his hand still wet from washing his face - he’s just staring at you with his eyes wide open and you can see the red forming on his cheeks, how cute!

dain doesn’t say anything and just looks away but you think he forgot that there’s a mirror right in front of you guys so you can see him with his eyes closed and him trying to suppress any sounds coming out of him.

you, of course just hugs him from behind and say “it’s okay/fine” but that doesn’t really cheer him up..

when it comes to breakfast, he makes the absolute best breakfast ever, could you even call it a ‘breakfast meal’? it’s like a whole feast :(

he’d sit you down and you would watch him make breakfast, he has the apron on and everything.

he knows everything about cooking!! 👏👏 he has two different chopping boards for vegetables and meat and has everything organized. salt and pepper there, some sauce over there, utensils over there and there and some oven mitts in the top right cabinet.

he’s just, mwa, yes.

dain’s too scared to let you cook because what if you accidently cut yourself? what if you burnt your hand or finger? what if!!

he can’t let you get hurt!! so if you cook, he makes sure he’s there to watch over you, dain also gives you some tips on how to do this and that and when you’re cutting some onion and you’re about to cut your finger he’s quick to stop you by grabbing your hand and sighs when he realizes that you didn’t get hurt.

“what’s wrong dain?” “ah, nothing. just be careful.. please.. you almost gave me a heart attack!” “oh- whoops? hehe..?”

you know those “kiss the cook” apron? yea, dain owns them. you might be thinking “ohh y/n probably gifted them it” or “y/n forced them to wear that” but no. dain himself bought that apron, a bright, pink apron that had many kissing emojis and a big white text that says “Kiss the COOK!”

yes, he bought that one because it stood out and he was hoping you would get the message, either you did or didn’t.

if you didn’t then when you’re going back to your room or anywhere he’d grab you by your waist and pull you close and whisper in your ear, “where’s my kiss?” and yes, you would give him his kiss but not before you’re melting and dain has to literally catch you because your knees are weak and you fall.

if you do notice then he would be pretty happy that the apron actually did his job and he would happily(if you’re short) bend down so you can give him his kiss and if not then dain would just gladly and happily smile while waiting for your kiss.

if he’s feeling very cheeky he will, at the last second, move his head so that instead of you kissing his cheek, you would be kissing his lips.

now, his job, streaming.

dain doesn’t stream until around 11 am -12 pm because he wants to spend the morning with you, normally around 12 pm he would stream.

his streams lasts for about 1-4 hours and if he’s doing a partnership then around 5.

and because he’s busy during these times, you always remind him to eat something or take a break for a while and chat with his viewers, and he really appreciates you for that :(

while he’s streaming you would either watch netflix, make food for dain, read a book and if you’re a streamer, you too would also stream.

sometimes your viewers ask you about dain and how your relationship was with dain and you would always overboard with your answers.

when they asked a simple question, you would answer it, but it was always very detailed, like why dain is amazing and blah blah blah.

dain too, would also remind you to take breaks and eat something <3 it just works out perfectly! how you two won’t be bored of course.

and your and dain’s day would be absolutely great if you both have the same schedule, well, kind of.

but moving on, once dain is finished streaming(and when you finished streaming too) he would come into your room or where ever you are and just lay over you, poor baby is tired. and his ass hurts too, he has been sitting in that darn chair for who knows how long.

most of the time you two have a tickle fight... that’s only when he still has energy which is most of the time. and dain always win, but sometimes he allows you to win ONLY because you gave him that puppy face.

and when there’s enough spare time, and he’s not busy you two would go shopping or to a park to just walk or pet some cats!!

dainsleif always makes sure that you’re enjoying your time where ever he takes you. you want to go to the park where many cats are after he streams? of course! you want to travel to canada? sure thing! lemme book the tickets rq- (/j)

you two mostly spend your time either going out or just staying home watching shows, orrrrr staring at each other(and maybe you watching dain edit his video LOL)

and sooner or later the sun starts to set. which means within a few hours you both will have to sleep. which dain hates.

yes he needs his beauty sleep BUT he wants to spend more time with you.. 5+ hours isn’t enough! but sleeping does come with its perks which dainsleif always takes advantage of.

for example, you’re sleeping, eyes closed, snoring lightly and dain’s just looking at you - staring at your face that he adores oh so much

he also probably pats your cheeks when you’re asleep, finds your cheeks cute, don’t ask me why (night)

!! about showering, he’s such a mess... like he will literally be in the corner of the shower and refuses to look at you. but i mean like, he has to look at you when you ask him to help you wash your hair or something like that.

he will NEVER touch you when you both are showering together, he’s too shy.

but if you’re showering by yourself then dainsleif would note down mentally that you’re in the shower and that he must “not open the door at all costs unless you need a towel or clothes”

i forgot to mention, when you two are in the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready he’s always ready for your skin care

but instead of you doing it for him and you, it’s the opposite. dain’s the one that is applying the cream and face mask on.

if you don’t do skin care and just wash your face that’s okay, because he’ll lend you some of his <3 and yes, he has skin care products.

no wonder his skin is always so smooth and flawless.

streamer! kaeya x reader

THIS MANNN 😩 flirts with you throughout the entire relationship. no comment.

(but fr... hope you don’t mind his constant complimenting and teasing - hope you don’t get embarrassed every time!!)

he teases you 24/7. morning, afternoon, night, midnight and when the sun rises, only special occasions.

he just loves to see your flustered state <3 when you blush or when you hide your face from embarrassment is just so endearing! you’re just so cute ;(

but enough of that, time to get into the real thing

mornings with kaeya is something, he would be all over the place. his legs over your body, arms over his head and splayed opposite of each other and some hair covering his face. mouth opened and snoring too 😰

oh yea, he snores. really loudly.

do you get enough sleep? no.

(why? cuz of his damn snoring!!)

but other than that, everything else is normal. no it isn’t

kaeya wakes up earlier than you, while he’s wide awake, you’re knocked out cold.

kaeya always wondered how you could still sleep for so long.

he stares at you while you sleep, not in a creepy way! he just admires your face and he can basically memorize your face. if you have tiny beauty spot on your cheek or anywhere on your face he would definenetly mentally note that down and bring that up once your awake.

“hey babe, did you know you have a __ there under your eye?” “wha-” “oh shush shush i know, a shocker huh?”

so yea.. kaeya wakes up only because he wants to look at and admire your face.

and so when you do wake up, you open your eyes and the first thing you see is kaeya staring right back at you.

at first is startles you but you quickly calm down when you realize it’s just kaeya. his dark blue hair makes it obvious.

he always holds you close to him when he notices you’re awake, he purposely makes your face squish up against his chest because, yes.

but you don’t mind <3 as a matter of fact, you love/enjoy it!

kaeya has a hot morning voice, can not tell me otherwise.

like a single “morning princess” could get you weak in your knees, god the power he has over you is... 😍

but sometimes when kaeya wakes up he gets up and gets ready for the day, though he doesn’t want to leave you he knows he has to get ready for his streams, plus if you didn’t stream then that would mean you would get your beauty sleep and kaeya doesn’t mind if he gets up from bed and starts his day already if it means you get your rest, he knows you need it.

but he craves your touch and presence when he’s already downstairs and setting up his stream and all.

GIVES YOU MANY KISSES WHEN YOU’RE ALSEEP!! like a kiss on both of your cheeks, forehead, lips, EVERYWHERE.

AHEM, anyways.

when you and kaeya are in the bathroom doing whatever he’s always by your side, whether you’re pooping or whatever, unless you’re uncomfortable of course.

he doesn’t really hold onto your shirt but he just sticks to your side, he’s quite literally glued to your side but are you complaining? nope!

kaeya 100% makes breakfast with you, cooking with you just feels so domestic and he’s here for it <3

even if you two are just planning on eating cereal, he still wants to “make” it with you even if it’ll probably take a few minutes.

you’re pouring the milk in the bowl and he’s just leaning on the counter, just staring at you with hearts in his eyes he’s getting the cereal ready.

kaeya either puts on a show for you and him to watch or talk to you about his plans for today and what he’s going to be doing for stream.

and if you stream too then you and kaeya would go back and fourth about your plans and stuff like that.

most of the time after breakfast kaeya would kiss you on your cheek(or lip) and go upstairs to start streaming, and you would just go in the living room and watch some crime documentary/shows.

if you too are also streaming, you would go to your room and start preparing for today.

thankfully, kaeya doesn’t forget to take breaks and eat something so you don’t really text him or remind him to do you know, but you still text him there and then.

he probably shows his phone to the chat and say something like: “hey you guys, look at what my babes texted me! aren’t they so kind <3”

you watch kaeya’s stream so you always text him when he does something concerning or when he compliments you.

“my y/n is so gorgeous, did you guys know that?” “CHAT: YEAAAA Y/N’S SO PRETTY!!!” “text: awww kaeya, you’re so sweet! and everyone in chat too :(”

“wait what-”

if you stream too, you and kaeya would honestly annoy each other(nicely), joining each others stream and just saying the weirdest shit ever and then leaving.

oh yea, when you’re in your room you hear MANY screams and shouting, either him playing a horror game or him just screaming at players that killed him many times, yes, he’s a sore loser.

sometimes you’re so concerned that you have to literally walk your way to his room, open his door and just say “are you okay?” and leave once he apologizes and explains the reason he screamed. and he’s so nice and polite when explaining to you too...

nothing big ever happens during the afternoon, but once kaeya ends his stream and tweets a few texts he’s immediately out of the room and rushing to your room.

kaeya literally opens your door so wide that it makes a loud “BANG” sound because he’s so eager to just jump into your arms and just let you hug him and kiss him, and that’s exactly what he does.

kaeya just jumps in your arms and you make an “AK-” sound due to someone heavy literally jumping onto you. 🤨

“sorry babe, just missed you sooo much ;(” “uh huh...” and so yeah! you two spend the next 2 hours just cuddling, before getting up to make lunch.

he’s so whiny about getting up, he’s holding onto you for dear life and begging you to just stay put and not go but obviously you’re hungry so you just pull his arms away from your waist and you get up and head to the kitchen

as soon as you get up he’s jumping out of the bed, rushing towards you and just follows you.

and when you’re making lunch he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles your neck while humming, you can’t even focus.

and you almost cut your finger while cutting some tomatoes but kaeya stops you from doing so.

“woah there, we don’t want you cutting your finger now do we?” and we all expect him to say that in a flirty tone and to be honest, yea he kind of did BUTTTTTT

he had more of a worried tone. he was frowning while moving your hand away from the knife.

(kind of had a pout..?)

but anyways.

most of the time kaeya takes you out to eat but you two normally get swarmed by his fans or people just eyeing you so you both just end up cooking and eating at home.

and when he does take you out... expect fancy restaurants, the MOST expensive food and a lot of shopping.

kaeya hates streaming(sometimes) as it takes away time with you but he always makes sure to spend more time with you when he’s done.

that’s why kaeya takes you to various places. picnics, parks, the movies, aquarium, and etc.

if not then he would make it up to you by cuddling with you for hours. never letting you go.

sometimes you play fight. but he never hits you or anything, instead he lets you take advantage of him. letting you win always <3

but sometimes he wants you to praise him so sometimes he wins and you have to praise him, no matter what.

“wowow you’re so strong kaeya!” “that’s what we love to hear, more y/n!” “... no.” “BUT- WHY?!?”

sometimes this goes on for HOURS, you two never get bored.

and it could go on for hours that by the time you stop you two are out of breath and notice that the sun is setting.

now about dinner... you and kaeya don’t really.. make dinner. rather, ordering!! mcdonalds, KFC, and so much junk food. with salad of course.

you two just sit on the couch, watching some drama while eating the food, not even paying attention to what your grabbing. you two are just too invested in what’s happening between brittany and betty.

honestly i dont even want to talk about what he does during the night, mostly because you both take night showers.

kaeya will always playfully poke your butt in the shower. no matter what, you either one, shriek and grab your butt while looking at him scared for your life, two, slowly turn around and giving kaeya a death stare, or three, you just continue to wash your body and don’t mind what kaeya just did.

even though showering with one another seems very intimate and sexual, it’s quite the opposite when it comes to kaeya. like sure he may be flirty and all but.. he really doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he doesn’t make any suggestive acts.

kaeya helps you to scrub your back if you can’t reach it yourself <3 he helps you wash your hair, apply whatever you need, basically, whatever you ask him, he’ll do it.

and when you both get in the bed and drift off to sleep he’s always hugging you <3 squeezing you tightly every time you move.

one of many ways to get kaeya sleeping is by braiding or just touching his hair, he finds it comforting :(

sometimes(most of the time) he stays awake, waiting for the moonlight to shine on your face. he adores you so much

kaeya finds you so pretty when the moonlight is shining on your face, but you’re always pretty so....

note: if you would like to be added to the genshin taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy <3

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk(couldn’t find ur main acc xiaxiao) @fiannee @sunnyf4lls

there were others but i couldn’t find your account : @kuaenyx @mobiuskiss, dm me if this was one of your accs!!

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!! another note: i dont think i got the message for ‘general daily living’ message but hey, that’s alright, euhuehuehueheu childe’s part is so god damn long. also i feel like kaeya’s part is very like, not put well? like it jumps from one thing or another... it’s also quite short, but yea. also it’s proof-read so hopefully there’s no grammar mistakes or anything. i’ve been procrastinating for weeks bro, i feel so guilty kmskdmkmd BUT IM SO HAPPY I GOT THIS DONEEEE, also thank you guys sm for 2.1k notes on the fic w/ 6 characters!! and btw, im so proud of dainsleif’s part, isn’t he so adorable??

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

[dotster001]

Enemies to Lovers part Nine, can't even say out of how many it takes for my coworker to Love Vil cause we're almost done

Summary: All hope seems lost with Vil being in the hospital wing.

Part: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Ten Epilogue

Epel and you were running to the mirror chamber faster than you'd ever run before. Epel was trying to get a hold of Rook, and finally got him to pick up  as you ran down the final hallway.

"Where are ya guys? We're coming!" He listened for a moment. "Geeze! Ya shoulda said that the first time!" He hung up and skidded to a halt.

"They're in the NRC hospital wing, since Vil's still a student," Epel said breathlessly. Both of you changed direction and began sprinting there.

When you arrived you were met with a small crowd that included Rook, Crowley, Crewel, and…Malleus? That caused your heart to stall for a second. Considering he was also supposed to be at an internship, this boded ill.

You could see Crewel and Malleus hovered around a hospital bed, as Rook attempted to calm a sobbing Crowley.

"Why do bad things happen to good headmasters? Do you know what'll happen if this gets out to the public? I'll…." 

Rook cut him off when he noticed you and Epel.

"You've arrived!" He ran to both of you and greeted each with a peck on the cheek. Then he made grim eye contact with both of you.

"Roi de Dragon is looking over him right now. But when he is finished we can…"

"There's nothing I can do," Malleus boomed out with a heavy sigh. He noticed you and gave a sad smile. "It's unfortunate we had to meet under these circumstances, my child of man. I've missed our walks dearly."

"Malleus, what's wrong with 'im?" Epel burst out finally.

"Schoenheit has been placed under a sleeping curse," Malleus said. "A powerful one at that. Nowadays, there is many a loophole you can take advantage of, but this one…he can only be awoken with true love's kiss."

"What loopholes?" You spoke up.

"Loopholes like familial love, friendly love, even fanatic love," Crewel said. "But it appears we are unlucky. This curse requires mutual true love. And Vil isn't in love with anyone, nor is anyone in love with him the way we need."

"Can we see him?" You whispered.

Crewel gave a nod and stepped aside, revealing Vil lying peacefully in the hospital bed. If you didn't know better, you'd have believed he was only sleeping, his chest slowly rising and falling, his breath blowing a strand of hair out of his face, a slight peaceful smile. Even now, you felt yourself struck with how beautiful he was, and how much of a crime it was now that the world was robbed of his visage, his laugh, his smile, his kindness his…

You realized you'd been reaching out to touch his hair and pulled away, crossing your arms so the instinct would be suppressed. 

….

Claudia. The woman from the awards ceremony. She'd snapped, and given him a cursed slice of apple pie while he was at his internship. She'd been taken into custody almost immediately as Vil was rushed to NRC to hopefully avoid the paparazzi. 

Rook explained that she had hoped to prove something to Vil, but had overplayed her hand. After that, she'd doubled down, insisting if she couldn't have him, no one could.

You felt your stomach churn just thinking about it.

….

You'd thrown yourself into your managerial duties the next several weeks. You hadn't visited Vil since that first day. It was too much to see him lying there knowing he'd never open his eyes again. 

There was talk of building a "tomb" of sorts where they could let him rest. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't alive. And the hospital wing couldn't protect him forever.

The second branch of the Mostro lounge was having a very busy night. Well, every night was busy here, which was why you were able to not think about your problems, but tonight even you had had to help wait tables, do after cleaning, and after all the rest of the staff, remained behind to finish closing paperwork and inventory.

When you thought everyone had left, you heard someone give a light knock on your office door.

"Yeah?" You called, not looking up from your calculator.

"Hey Shrimpy," you looked up and Floyd was leaning against the door, grinning.

You smiled back. Floyd was the consistent calm helper in your life right now, believe it or not. It was like he'd noticed how down you'd been and put in the extra effort to make things better.

"Saw you were working late, thought I'd help ya out. Cause otherwise, Jade's gonna make me help clean his terrariums," he said with a grimace, making you laugh.

"I'd appreciate that," you said. "Can you look at this last bit of paperwork, while I finish with the deposit?"

He nodded, and pulled up a chair next to you, both of them working in silence. After a while, you felt a soft caress on your cheek.

You looked up, and felt your face warm as you realized Floyd was staring at you, with his head resting on his hand.

"You look really cute when you're all focused like that, Shrimpy," he said softly. 

He moved in slowly, and soon his lips were on yours. He nibbled your bottom lip, making you gasp so he could deepen the kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, as he threaded his hand through your hair, and your first thought was….

"I wonder if Vil would kiss like this"

With that thought, it was like a dam had been destroyed, and you couldn't stop thinking about Vil. How beautiful he was. How intelligent he was. How deeply he cared for his loved ones. How deeply he cared for you. How he'd do anything for those he loved. How he'd do so little for himself. How his eyes lit up when you spent time together. How his laugh could light up a room.

As Floyd pulled away, searching your face, you whispered, "Floyd, I think I…"

"Don't say it," he said with a sad smile. "I already know."

He gently caressed your face one more time, before pulling back.

"Go save Betta fish, Shrimpy. I'll finish things off here."

You hugged him tightly, breathing, "thank you" and ran off to the NRC hospital wing, hoping that Vil had retained his feelings for you after all this time.

A/N: I feel a little mean putting this out on Floyd's birthday, so I'll probably write him something after this 😂 (I'm sorry baby please don't leave me)

.....

Tag list- @stygianoir @da-disappointment @shytastemakerthing @iruiji

[michelleleewise]

Cold As Ice.......

Pairing: ActorLoki x Reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence(very mild), slight mention of non con(non descriptive, very breif),

Summary: Loki shows how softer side, but will he stay that way......

Part Six-

==========================

Loki pov-

I carried her upstairs and put her on the couch. I hurried and healed her head, luckily she didn't seem hurt anywhere else. I went and grabbed a rag to wipe her head off. She still wouldn't wake but she was breathing, so I grabbed a blanket to cover her and sat in the chair across from her. I wanted to make sure she would wake fine.

I watched her sleeping form, she looked so peaceful, so beautiful. "Why am I doing this" I asked myself. I was getting close to her, too close. She had started invading my thoughts, i was starting to care for her, but that can't happen. If she ever found out she'd run screaming. The sun started coming up, the light filtered in through the window across her face. She looked angelic in the morning light. To wake up to her beautiful face every morning...

"No, that can't happen" I said to myself getting up heading to the kitchen. She should wake soon, best if she ate something. I went through the cabinets, there wasnt much. "Is she not able to get food?" I asked myself. I'll ask her when she gets up I thought. I found the coffee and some bread so I made toast, and headed back to the living room. As I set things on the table she started to stir. I hoped she wouldn't panic seeing me.

Y/n pov-

I slowly opened my eyes, the sun in my face. I squinted trying to figure out where I was. I started to look around the room and my eyes landed on him sitting in the chair by me "Loki....." I asked, my throat felt sore. "Yes, im here" he said looking at me, his features seemed hard, cold. "What......what happened?" I asked him. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, I noticed he had taken his jacket and tie off, a few buttons on his shirt were undone revealing the top of his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, God he was beautiful.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked as I started to sit up. "Umm kind of" I said holding my head. He was staring at me like I may drop dead "I remember leaving the party, and walking home. And I was almost to my apartment when...." I trailed off, gathering my thoughts. "Umm, I remember some guy grabbing me, pulling me into the alley, he wanted money, I didn't have any" I said looking down. Loki was still watching me, I started to tear up "umm, he said if I didn't have any money....he was gonna get something else. I tried to get away, but he grabbed me....and I don't remember anything after that" I said wiping the tears from my face.

Loki looked down to the floor, still listening. "Oh god, did he...." I started to panic but Loki cut in "no, no he didn't' he said still looking down. "I drove past your apartment last night, to make sure to made it home, and I saw what was happening" he said looking up at you. "I was.....he was going to.." I trailed off breathing heavy. I put my head in my hands and couldn't help the sobs. Loki got up and kneeled down in front of me, pulling my hands away. "But he didn't" he said holding your arms. "I took care of him, and brought you up here to make sure you were Ok" he said.

"Oh god, if you hadn't been there.....I couldn't......I wasn't able to stop him...." I started sobbing again and he gently shook my arms "y/n stop. Let's not think of that, I was there, your ok, and that's what matters" he said staring into your eyes. "Now, I made you some toast and coffee, you may need some pain killers, you hit your head pretty hard and ....." he was saying but I lunged forward and hugged him, I felt him tense up "Thank you loki, thank you" I said holding onto him. He gently patted my back and I pulled back "im....im sorry, im not sure why I did that" I said looking down. "It's fine" he said stiffly and stood up. "I'm going to go get ready for our flight, you should too." He said grabbing his things, he suddenly seemed cold. I got up to walk him out. "I'm sorry again Loki, I didn't mean to..." I started "y/n it's fine, I'll see you at at the airport" he said not looking at you and leaving. I closed the door, I sat on the couch drinking the coffee he made "shit.....I made him uncomfortable" I thought to myself. I sighed and got up to get packed, it's gonna be a long day.

Loki pov-

"Dammit!!" I yelled when I got in the car. What was she doing to me. I haven't felt this way in a long time, if ever....the way she felt pressed against me when she hugged me, I could still smell the scent of her hair, the feel of her arms wrapped around me, her face burried in my neck......."No! no, I can't, I won't" I said to myself. "She could never love me, not when she found out what I am" I thought. I started my car and headed home, I still needed to pack. I just needed to keep my distance from her, she deserves better then me, I can't give her what she needs. I'm alone, and I always will be..

You made it to the airport early. You wanted to make sure everything was set, you had Loki in first class, and yourself in economy. You got your bags checked and had tickets in hand and sat down waiting. Your mind wondering back to Loki, when you hugged him, how he felt against you, his scent was intoxicating. When you burried your face in his neck you just wanted to stay there forever, to run your fingers through his hair.....God what was he doing to you, he's a jerk right? Nothing changed....did it?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Loki coming up to you "Everything ready" he asked looking at you. You looked up at him, he had a black suit on, white shirt and back tie with a knee length over coat and green scarf, you wanted to rip it off him. "Yes sir, everything is set" looking up at him from your seat handing him his ticket. You saw his jaw clench as your fingers touched. "Right, let's go" he said clearing his throat and started walking. God he had long legs, it was hard to keep up. You were standing in line when you tapped his shoulder, and he turned "sir, i wanted to apologize again for earlier, I shouldn't have done that, but I was very grateful for what you did for me." You sighed " But I'm afraid I may have crossed a line. And I'm very sorry sir." You said looking at your hands. His face heated at the name "Y/n, there's nothing to apologize for, like I said, it's fine" he said looking at you. You smiled and nodded and he turned back around. You got on the plane and made your way to your seats. You went up and made sure Loki didn't need anything "ok, if you need anything I'm right back there" you said. He nodded in response, and with that they were off......

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @usagishira @kats72 @xorpsbane @xmischief-ladyx @jaspearl31 @asgardianprincess1050 @lunacadenza @a-lonely-gray-couch @cabingrlandrandomcrap @starwarsbabe3000 @misswimberly @daddylokisqueen

[wkemeup]

for drabble night- which i am so excited for, by the way!! you're a marvelous writer and one of my top favorite bucky writers- my personal favorite trope is oblivious idiots to lovers (like the love is requited but they're just idiots)

dialogue prompt: “I’m too good for revenge.” “Well I’m not. Give me the gun.” - from anon pairing: bucky x reader word count: 1.4k warnings (provided by @jessalyn-jpeg): idiots to lovers, mutual pining, shouted love confessions, (and warnings from me ->) past torture, descriptions of blood, canon level violence, sorry I made this so dark??? a/n: guess who already broke the 1k rule!!! but hey I loved this one and Im a little sad it's a drabble and not a monster fic. it may not be idiots per say, but definitely two people who love each other who havent admitted it yet and are scared of what it means

A man withered on the ground at your feet, scrambling along the prodding edges of crumbled concrete. Crawling as blood streaked in his wake. This man – this monster – you'd been chasing for weeks was reduced to a helpless, crying mess as you towered over him. His hands shook as they shielded his face, tears streaking over his cheeks. This time, you held the power. You held the leverage. He wasn’t so scary without the table of surgical tools at his disposal – your blood stained upon his hands and a maniacal grin upon his lips.

You didn’t know his name. He was only ever ‘the Doctor’ when you spoke of him in your head. You’d only uttered the phrase once since the team rescued you from his basement two months ago and even then, it had tasted of venom. He haunted you in your sleep, followed you in the shadows of every room, drew screams as he pleased even when he could no longer touch you. Safety was not a luxury you could afford – not after what he’d done to you.

Bucky was your only reprieve. A broken man who had found the pieces of himself again – who had offered pieces of himself to you to soothe the mess you’d become with gauze and tape. It was his arms you woke in when your throat was burning raw, his voice lulling you back to sleep, his hands that had taught you peace again.

Bucky saved what his man destroyed.

“P-please,” the Doctor begged, his trembling hands reaching out for the toe of your boot – like a peasant before a king. You flinched before he could touch you. His back pressed against the wall. There was nowhere else for him to go. You flexed the gun at the end of your grip.

“You ruined me,” you spat, barely able to taste the words as they left your tongue. They did not sound like your own. “You expect me to grant you mercy?”

It only made the man sob harder. He was struggling to breathe – hyperventilating between sobs as his hands curled tight against his chest. Pathetic. Weak. Certainly not the type of man who could orchestrate the kidnapping of an avenger without help. He was sick and twisted and evil down to his bones, but he was not the mastermind behind your abduction. He was the executioner.

“D-don’t kill me,” he whimpered, bowing his forehead to the ground. “Y-you’re an Avenger. You wouldn’t.”

You had every intent to put a bullet through this man’s chest the moment you laid eyes on him again. You’d expected to be afraid, to see the surgical mask over his mouth and the cold, dead look in his eyes. You’d expected him to lunge at you with the scalpel and add to the array of scars he’d drawn upon your body. You’d expected violence from the psychopath you knew him to be.

Instead – you found this trembling, frail man who could not manage the courage to meet your eye. It was only when you were chained and drugged that he felt powerful enough to torture an Avenger. You were disappointed.

“You’re not worth my soul.” Tears welled into your eyes as you stared down the monster who had taken residency within your nightmares. “I’m too good for revenge.”

“Well, I’m not,” Bucky’s voice growled from the edge of the room. He stalked across the floor of the basement, his boots stepping over the stain of dried blood you’d left behind months earlier. His expression was cold, unemotive. The plates of his left arm whirled as he clenched his fist. “Give me the gun.”

Bucky’s hand slid over yours, the gun falling slack in your hand. You parted your lips to tell him that justice was due, that there was still more at play than just the sick mind of the man crumbled at your feet. But the safety was already unlatched and Bucky unloaded the weapon into the Doctor. Blood trailed through the cracks in the floor until they touched your boots. The echo burned into your eardrums.

You gaped, stumbling a few steps back before Bucky could slide the gun back into the holster on your hip. He raised an eyebrow, concerned, but you couldn’t find any air inside your chest. Your gaze flickered back to the Doctor as his body slumped down the wall, sinking into the pool of his own blood. It would stain into the rock amongst your own.

Your stunned stare returned to Bucky as he gently reached a hand towards you. You slapped it away. “Why-- What did you—Why would you do that?”

Bucky stilled, his eyes narrowing. He retracted his hand, genuine confusion upon his features. “Are you serious?”

“We could have brought him in, Bucky!” You threw your arms in the air, pacing over the red stain at the center of the room. “We could have interrogated him! You saw him – he clearly isn’t working alone!”

“We don’t need him, Y/n, we can—”

“He’s a pawn! He deserves a hell of a lot worse than death but we needed him, Bucky!”

“No,” Bucky snapped. His face was growing red, his jaw clenching so tightly the muscle flexed beneath his stubble. “No — that monster should have been shot on sight! I don’t give a shit what he could have been useful for! He got what he deserved!”

“Dammit, Bucky! We’re right back where we started.” You pressed your hands to your eyes. Tears wiped at the edges of your palms – angry, frustrated tears. Helpless tears. A lump burned so terribly in your throat, you thought it might choke you.

“We’re not,” Bucky eased, trying to calm you though his own breathing was labored. “We killed the bastard who took you, Y/n. He’s dead now. He can’t hurt you again. It's a hell of a lot more than we had yesterday.”

“Not when the guy who’s making the calls is still out there!” you cried, shoving away his efforts to reach you, though he kept trying. “We were so close, Bucky! He would have talked!”

“You don’t know that! He could have been manipulating you!"

“He would have rolled over in a second!” you roared, fire and fury and agony coursing through your veins. “And you just—you threw that all away for—what? For revenge?!”

“For you!”

The moment the words left Bucky’s lips he held his breath. His boots carried him several steps back, putting space between you as if it might draw the words back from the air before they could touch you. The anger drained from your body, washing away in a matter of seconds. Bucky exhaled a tensed breath.

“I did it... for you,” Bucky repeated slowly, his voice dangerously quiet. “I couldn’t stand the idea of that monster living another second after what he did to you.”

You swallowed, though your throat was aired dry.

“I can hear you cry at night,” he confessed and your heart clenched. Slowly, Bucky lifted his gaze to you, blue eyes startling through the wash of tears. “I know what he did to you, Y/n. You don’t have to tell me, because I know. I know what it’s like to be stripped of your power, to be helpless. I know what that does to a person. You... You never should have had to know what that feels like, too. It would have lingered over your head, Y/n -- to have that monster in the compound with us. It would have driven you mad. So I did what I had to do. I won’t apologize for that.”

You stared at Bucky, lips parted. “Fury will be pissed.”

You didn’t know why you said that. Perhaps because you were too afraid of what Bucky was really saying – the meaning behind his actions. Why it tortured him to allow this man to live after what he did to you.

Bucky chuckled dryly. “Yeah, I suppose he will.”

Quietly, you inched closer to him, stepping over the wet bloods of crimson as it slithered along the floor. Your arms wrapped around his waist, your head pressing to his chest. Bucky stilled for a moment, surprised, before his arms folded around you. It was warm in his embrace, safe. You listened to the gentle thumping of his heart as a hand circled sweetly over your spine.

And then, so quietly you knew only his advanced hearing could pick up, you muttered, “thank you,” against his chest.

--

this is your reminder that on drabble night I'm barely reading this over after I write it instead of taking weeks to edit and draft and redraft lol so if there's mistakes or the quality is not on par, that is why

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Grunge-Metal Geralt

Hi, im fucking trash for the idea of Geralt being the front man for a Five Finger Death Punch type band and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. This music genre is my bread and butter and I think Geralt’s repressed but highly emotional ass would fit right in. Yes im using another Hozier song, no i dont wanna hear anything about it. I’m a basic bitch and ive made my peace with it

Warnings: i honestly have no idea, its a little horny, little emotional, but theres no actual character interaction?, its at a concert venue? idk yall.

_________________________

Jaskier was… out of his comfort zone.

It’s not that he didn’t like the grunge-metal music, he just hadn’t listened to much and he was not used to the energy. People were yelling and screaming and the opener hadn’t even come on yet. He didn’t feel unsafe, far from it. Several people had checked to see if he was okay, seeing as he was the only person in the entire arena wearing a sweater that wasn't ripped or faded to hell. It was just a far cry from the shows he was used to. 

He played folky-blues. This was nothing like his shows. 

When the lights went down the crowd was deafening, all moving as one to rush the front of the floor, not giving a single fuck about tickets. 

The openers were exciting, and Jaskier was surprised by some of the concepts and messages behind the music. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all and he found himself searching them up on Spotify to listen later. 

Then came The Witchers. 

Eskel and Lambert made their energetic entrance, followed by Aiden calmly walking to his drums and sitting as if he were walking into a college class. But Geralt was nowhere in sight. The one person Jaskier had actually come to see. 

He’d seen a video clip from a previous concert where they covered one of his songs, and he was praying they’d do it again. It was lovely in a haunting-almost-threatening way, and the expression in Geralt’s posture alone was enthralling. He had to see it live. 

But Geralt was still absent as the band started to build a song. First Aiden with the beat, then Eskel’s bass, then Lambert with a melody on his electric guitar. It built and built and built to a fever pitch, taking the crowd with it. People were already jumping and screeching. Jaskier had to stand on his seat to see the stage clearly. 

Geralt’s voice echoed through the venue, low and closer to a growl than singing, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

Jaskier thought he’d been prepared, but his whole body was covered in goosebumps. He briefly wondered if this was what his friends were feeling when they listened to ASMR.

Geralt remained hidden for the whole first verse, getting the crowd even more excited than Jaskier thought possible, only for the band to go completely silent for a whole measure. When the crowd's screams reached their absolute loudest, Geralt dropped from on top of one of the jumbotrons, landing on one of the horse-sized speakers before launching into the chorus. 

Oh fuck, he was even more beautiful in person. 

He was… well he was a beast of a man. Jaskier really didn’t have another word for the way his muscles bulged and how lithe and powerful he looked springing from the speaker to join his bandmates on the main stage. His thighs filled out his black, tattered jeans and there were clear faded spots where his muscles strained the fabric too often. The thin black tank he wore did nothing but pretend the man was semi-modest. It was so tight, the only thing left up to the imagination was tan lines and the color of his nipple piercings. 

Jaskier was most entranced by his long, white, wavy hair falling past his shoulders. As the show continued and he started to sweat, a lot, it got curlier and curlier at the root. Jaskier wanted to give him a mask and some curl cream, but only after a, uhm, rough night of getting to know each other. He’d heard rumors about Geralt from hitting arenas not long after they’d left. He was quite sure they’d have a great time.

As he focused on the lyrics more and more, he was more inclined to want to wrap Geralt up in a hug and worship every part of him until he felt whole again. 

Either he’d been shown the shitty side of the genre, or The Witchers were exceptions to the rule of content. Jaskier was almost moved to tears a few different times.

Finally, about an hour into Jaskier mindlessly feasting his eyes on the front man, Geralt leapt onto another speaker and sat down, breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear. 

“You still with us?”

The unholy screech from the crowd left no doubt they were just as excited, if not more so, than when they’d arrived. 

“Good! Good..” he trailed off, chuckling as he lowered the mic to take a breath, “We’re gonna slow it down for a minute,” he leaned forward and held the mic away as Eskel shouted something up at him to which he laughed and flipped him off. 

“As I was saying, we’re gonna yearn for a minute or two and do a cover. Song by Jaskier called ‘Talk’.”

The crowd lost their shit again, various pride flags popping up throughout the stands. 

Geralt chuckled and raised his combat boot, showing off the bi flag colored treads, earning another round of screams. If this is what the grunge-metal scene was like, Jaskier had been missing out his entire life. Sure his fans were sweet and supportive and loving when he’d come out. But this was electric and feral and completely addictive.

Lambert struck the opening chord to Jaskier’s song and the crowd settled to a gentle hum, setting the tone immediately, as if they all knew exactly what was coming. 

Geralt closed his eyes as he tapped his thigh with one finger, keeping time before his rumbling baritone hit Jaskier like a freight train. 

“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found…”

Jaskier could have collapsed right there. He knew he was staring like a lovesick idiot, but hell, everyone around him was too. When the chorus hit and Eskel came in with a heavy bass line he nearly fell off his chair. Geralt’s intensity raised with the addition of the backup but he didn’t move. He stayed seated, swaying slightly, with his eyes closed as he crooned out the words Jaskier had sobbed as he wrote, broken hearted and miserable. 

It was surreal. 

Sure he’d seen other covers. Sure they’d been lovely. But he wanted to listen to this and only this as he fell asleep for the rest of his life. He’d never play it again if he could only hear it one more time. 

After the last verse Lambert launched into a guitar solo while Geralt jumped off the speaker and meandered to the center of the stage to slot his mic back in it’s stand. He gripped it like a lifeline when Lambert held one last note for as long as his instrument would allow and only started singing the last chorus when it was almost silent. 

“I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we could do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you”

His expression looked hopeless and utterly desperate as he crooned out the last two lines. He let his hair fall to cover his face and Jaskier could just barely hear his panting breath over the sound system as the crowd exploded. Geralt tipped his head back and took two deep breaths before straightening up and getting on with the show but Jaskier was stuck. 

He was vaguely aware of someone taking a picture of him, but he really couldn’t care less. The fact that Geralt moved right on to a song called ‘Burn Motherfucker Burn’ didn’t matter either. 

Jaskier jumped down from his arena seat, whipping out his phone and sending the band a tweet, because apparently that’s what musicians did now?

“Record it. Please. It’s either that or sing me to sleep every night. You choose.”

He stayed for the rest of the show and walked to his car in a haze. Before he backed out of his spot he checked his phone like always and his heart nearly stopped at the two top notifications. 

One public reply: “Both? -G”

And one direct message: “If you’re still here and want to grab a drink, I’m just backstage.” 

[goldengoddess]

soooo the idea is a fic set during king of scars where the reader is nikolai's childhood best first and we stumble into his room one evening and we actually see him change into the demon and just absjajnsns

i am yours - nikolai lantsov

* KING OF SCARS & RULE OF WOLVES SPOILERS *

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

a/n: okay this is absolutely garbage rae i am so sorry pls forgive me,,, i KNOW this is not how nikolai’s demon works and he wouldn’t just like turn back but for the sake of this fic pls pretend <33333

for the lovley @wtfrae !!! i love u pls go read her work everyone <3

warnings: spoilers! some angst n like threat of violence but y’all know me, everything is good and happy by the end

nikolai had always been the one person you could turn to. since the two of you were kids, it had always been an unbreakable bond. something no one else seemed to understand. how to kids, tossed aside by their family, tested in every way possible, were able to find each other and bring out the best in one another. nikolai made you better, made you good.

life in ravka was never easy, it was a constant struggle. especially in the years leading up to nikolai’s reign. the two of you almost hadn’t made it out alive then, and while nikolai had been out fighting with alina in the fold, you had stayed at the spinning wheel helping the injured.

but when things finally settled down, alina and mal safe and away, nikolai had told you so many stories. the two of you had spent months apart. so out of nostalgia, every night you’d sneak into nikolai’s room and listen to your best friend tell you stories about everything. all the battles he’d fought along as sturmhond, what the battle against the darkling had looked like.

and even when nikolai ran out of stories, and you ran out of questions, you kept sneaking into his room to talk to him. he was the king of ravka, during the day he never even stopped to take a breath. but his nights were reserved for you. just so he could hear the sound of your voice before he was bound to his bed by chains.

nikolai loved you dearly, you were the only constant he had ever known. but he couldn’t bring himself to share what had happened to him during the battle with the darkling, what he’d become. instead, he told you the stories he told everyone else, how he was captured and tortured. it hurt him, to lie to you. but he couldn’t have you seeing him the way he saw himself, a monster. so even though lying to you pained him every night, he would do it to hear your excited questions and giggles as you snuck out of his room.

he always made sure you were gone before zoya came in. he wouldn’t be able to explain the drugging potion. or even worse, his horrible transformation into the demon that lived inside of him.

but secrets almost never stay secrets.

“saints nikolai,” you gasped, rushing off his bed to grab grab your coat, “it’s past midnight. i can’t be in here!”

nikolai sat up and looked out his window, you watched the color drain from his face. he cleared his throat and walked over to you, “you’re right you should probably go.”

you nodded and shuffled away from him, but before opening the door you paused. you turned back to the blonde haired boy, “nikolai?”

“yes sweetheart?” he answered, facing you.

“i could,” you hesitated, “i could sleep over. one night, i’m not saying tonight. just some night. i’ll sleep on the floor but, i spend all of my night here anyways. just like when we were kids.”

as nikolai slowly walked closer to you, you waited for his teasing remark and eventual acceptance. the two of you w had a sleepover since before he left ravka. of course it wouldn’t be the same, as he was now king, but he was your nikolai.

instead, he gently tucked a piece of your hair and kissed your forehead. “i don’t think that’s such a good idea sweetheart.”

your heart shattered at his words and his at the fact that he had to say them. there was nothing he wanted more. nothing that would bring him more peace than holding you in his arms until the sunrise. not just for a couple of hours right before bed, not having to pretend that everything he felt for you was strictly platonic.

“oh” you said defeatedly. “that, yeah that’s okay. i’ll see you tomorrow nikolai.” and with that you rushed out of the room.

later, as zoya gave nikolai genya and david’s potion to knock him out, all he could think about was the horrible look on your face.

at some point in the night you’d made the decision to go talk to nikolai. the two of you couldn’t go on like this, attempting to be way you have been before the darkling and alina while tip toeing around these new feelings you had for eachother.

but as you made your way to nikolai’s doors, hand on the doorknob, you heard a soft growl coming from inside. you covered your mouth with your hand to prevent a gasp from escaping your lips. you slowly turned the handle and stepped into the room.

on nikolai’s kingly bed was a dark giant looking demon. it’s wings were the color of the night sky seen in the window of the bed room. it took your breath away.

you pressed your back against the wall, trying to move back towards the door without making any noise. but the demon heard you and snapped it’s head in your direction.

every part of your body was screaming to run, to scream even. but something stopped you. the eyes. they stopped you. they were dark and pitch black but there was something familiar about them. not the color but the way they watched you. like they were trying to remember every single part of you just in case.

nikolai was the only person who you knew looked at you that way.

“nikolai?” you whispered to the monster.

the creature craned its neck to the side, similar to the confused head tilts that nikolai used to give you during lessons. you took a hesitant step forward, holding your hands up to show that you weren’t going to cause harm.

“nikolai” you tried again, with more conviction in your voice.

the creature let out a small growl as a response and you flinched away. at your movement it out a whine and moved away from you.

you shuffled closer, “hey no no i’m okay. nikolai?”

slowly, as you repeated your best friends name over and over, the creature became less beast and more man. slowly morphing into a messy set of blonde curls and body you’d hugged more times than you can recall. your nikolai.

he curled up in a ball and leaned his back against the end of his bed.

“nikolai” you attempted softly, falling to your knees in front of him.

he scrambled away to a corner of the room, “please. please leave. i’m begging.” his voice was raspy from misuse, thought the two of you had spoken only hours before.

“nikolai i’m not leaving, please explain to me. what was that?” you pleaded with him.

“that was nothing, now go. please please” he sobbed into his hands.

you crossed your arms over your chest in a stubborn gesture that he couldn’t even see, “you’re lying to me again! i’m not leaving until you explain what that was. why can’t you tell me the truth for once?”

“that was me!” he yelled as he lifted his head and met your eyes for the first time.

you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar hazel color of his eyes. you crossed your legs together, “that was you?”

“yes that was me. that is what the darkling did to me. now please,” he let out an exhausted sob “please leave sweetheart.”

you felt tears swelling in your own eyes at his voice. how broken he sounded. your nikolai never sounded so defeated. and if he ever felt that way, he had never shown you. you crawled over to him slowly and placed your hands on the sides of his face, rubbing away the tears.

“what are you doing” he whimpered and dropped his head into your hands, “i could hurt you. sweetheart, you have to go.”

“my nikolai” you whispered, pushing his damp hair away from his forehead.

he closed his eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger, exhaustion, sadness, or a mix of all of it. “i cannot be yours. i’ve lied to you, i’m a demon, a monster. you can’t possibly want me to be yours.” he spit each word about himself as if it were venom, like the words ripped away a little bit of his humanity, or his confidence.

you shook your head and softly placed your forehead again his, still holding the sides of his face. “no. you’re my nikolai. you always will be.”

you placed two soft kisses on his cheeks, one on each side. “my” kiss, “nikolai,” another kiss.

“oh sweetheart, i am yours” he sighed and opened up his knees so you could fall into his embrace. “i am so sorry.”

“you should be” you mumbled into his chest. “what if you had died nikolai? and i wouldn’t have known what was happening to you until it was too late. i could have helped.”

he kissed the top of your head, still hesitantly. “im a fool, you can spend the rest of my life reminding me. i didn’t want to ruin this, us. it’s the last precious thing i have in my life.”

“we are still precious” you whispered and clung to his shirt like your life depended on it. “the same way you are still the nikolai i have always known, since childhood. you are still good. we will fix this.”

“and if we can’t?” he asked so softly that you almost couldn’t hear him.

“then i’ll have to get just as familiar with the demon as i am with you” you joked.

and the rumble of nikolai’s laughing chest told you that everything would be perfectly fine. demon and all, he was still your nikolai.

taglist;

@deardiarystuff @bookishcrows @kazsimp @vintagebitc @obiwansjedi @thegirlwiththeimpala @hybrid-in-progress @mrs-brekker15 @mrsbrekkers @simplyluvzuko @ode-to-joy @gallysonegoodlung @sixofshadowandbone @castielcouldbeasecretdentist @meiitanoia @caaarstairs @itisroe

if your name is in bold, it means i couldn’t tag you <3

[the-wee-woo-royal]

Table For One

WOOO!! ITS MY BDAY!!! I decided to finally finish an old wip of mine as a gift to myself.

This is actually the first fic id ever written over a year and a half ago But i was too scared to post it. It took a lot of editing and re-writing but i can now say im pretty confident with it.

Tagging (dm or comment to be added/removed): @obsidianfr3sk @greenalmond  @galaxy-creationz  @healing-winston-pratt @justsomerandomficsforrenegades

Almost an hour later (Yes, this was taking longer than expected.) he got a quick chime on his Renegade communicator from Prism. It was a brief message but the only word he caught was ‘Simon’, before the man himself stormed into his office.

There was a slight discomfort in Hugh telling him he was forgetting something important. He tried to wrap his head around it, but it was most likely another paper he needed to sign or something to approve. Sitting at his desk, he continued his work. The uneasy feeling was still present, but this time he brushed it off. Tonight he would get everything done and be able to go home in peace. 

And he was not happy. 

For as long as Hugh knew him, Simon radiated confidence, even when he didn’t completely feel it, but now he looked crushed. His eyes were rimmed red and his face was flushed, like he’d been crying… a lot. His usual tall stance was replaced by Simon holding himself, like he was on the edge of breaking.

 “Oh, My Love, what’s wro-.” Hugh cut himself off, as Simon seemed to fume at his words. Hugh took in his slightly formal attire.

It wasn’t a stray paper he’d forgotten. 

Hugh could already tell he’d be in loads of trouble, “Dinner,” he mumbled, lowering his head in shame. He looked back at Simon, who was breathing hard. He has his jaw set and his eyebrows knit together, and Hugh could tell more tears were threatening to fall. 

Simon was beyond furious, but it hurt even more that his husband completely forgot about him.

“Yeah,” Simon said sourly, “Dinner.”

They both stayed silent for a moment, and Hugh knew his actions would cause a bigger punishment than just having to sleep on the couch tonight.

Simon continued to look at Hugh for some sort of explanation. Maybe an apology? Hugh looked at his desk for a moment, he really didn’t know what to say because the outright truth was pathetic. Forgetting?! About the love of his life? 

He met Simon's eyes again, Simon crossed his arms and looked at him in a way that silently said what the hell?

Hugh took a breath, “Love,” he started softly, which caused Simon to scoff, “I’m sorry. I- um, I just- uh, just-” 

Simon cut him off, “You just what, Hugh? What was SO important that you completely bailed on me.” His voice getting a little louder with every word. 

There was another beat of silence, “Listen, I needed-” Hugh started, accidentally having it come out more fierce and sharp than he meant it to. He was instantly cut off again, regretting the start to that. 

Simon was not in the mood for his crap excuses right now and not with that tone.

“NO!” Simon yelled, “DON’T GET TO TELL ME TO LISTEN” Simon took a breath, trying to calm himself, but failed miserably. He glared directly into Hugh’s eyes. “I- I waited for you. An HOUR, HUGH, AN HOUR!” Simon’s natural calm composure was gone, he was shaking now, and a few escaped tears rolling down his cheek. “30 MINUTES IN THE RESTAURANT, LOOKING LIKE A COMPLETE LOSER WHO GOT STOOD UP! AND THEN  ANOTHER 30 FOR YOU IN THE CAR! WHY DIDN'T YOU PICK UP YOUR PHONE? WHY DID YOU IGNORE ME?! WHY DID YOU FORGET ME?!” Simon started sobbing into his clenched fists, Hugh rushed to him but Simon put a hand out to stop him from getting closer. “I had to call Prism and have her tell me that you were still here! WORKING! YOU PROMISED ME WE WOULD SPEND TIME TOGETHER! THAT WE’D FINALLY GET A BREAK! BECAUSE I NEEDED YOU!... an-and I thought you needed me too.” So much anger dissolved into sadness after his outburst, Hugh gently grabbed Simon’s outstretched hand and pulled him into a tight embrace. There was a moment of hesitation before Simon buried his face in Hugh's chest. They stood there for a few minutes, only Simon’s crying echoing in the room.

Hugh knew that an apology was worthless at the moment. He messed up, again. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Not that they had too much spare time to start with, but most of their canceled dates were because of him. It was worse at the moment, because this was the first time he actually forgot.  

There was no way to tell how long they stood there, but it was long enough for Simon’s tears to slow and pull away from Hugh. 

Hugh straightened himself a little and looked down at his husband. He was never good with people crying and sadness, but he tried anyway. Hopefully, something was better than nothing right now, although it was unlikely, “I’m so sorry, I had so much work to do. I should have remembered to notify you,” Hugh said slowly, trying to comfort him.

Simon let loose a humorless laugh, “No, Hugh, you should have come,” Simon whispered drly, but the sadness was all the same.

He looked up at Hugh “You shouldn’t have called earlier to cancel. You should have come and been with me.”

“Hon-”

“No, don't sweet talk me. I want you to tell me why you find it impossible put a pause on Captain Chromium and take time to be my husband.” A few more tears rolled down his already damp cheeks. Hugh could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He felt so ashamed for causing his husband this hurt. He was heartbroken because of him. Simon continued with a wobbly voice, “I want my husband, Hugh, I miss him.”

Hugh thought of some reassuring things to say, but nothing could come out of his mouth. He could promise and swear that it'll never happen again, hold Simon tight and plead for forgiveness. 

But it wouldn't be real. They both would know it deep down. It would happen again because Simon was right, as usual. He just couldn't put a pause to his hero persona. 

Simon would ask a thousand more times and Hugh still wouldn’t be able to answer why. 

Simon took Hugh’s silence as the end of this argument for now. If there was nothing for Hugh to say, there was nothing Simon could do. 

“You finish what you need to do,” Simon said with more sniffles, looking at the floor. “I'm going home.” 

“Wait-” Hugh’s voice cracked. He didn’t want him to leave. Not like this.

Simon snapped back, “Why should I? Wait?! For how much longer?” Simon gave Hugh another questioning look but he went quiet again. 

Hugh watched as Simon fiddled with his hands and walked back to Hugh, and grabbed his hand that was limp at his side. Hugh looked at Simon confused as he placed something in Hugh’s hand and closed it for him. Simon used both of his hands to hold Hugh’s and brought it to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss to it. 

“Return it to me when you can be my husband again,” Simon whispered into his hand with closed eyes. 

Then he left. 

Hugh allowed his tears to fall when he opened his hand, the feeling of failure spreading through his body. 

Hugh couldn’t tell when, but he’d ended up kneeling on the floor, unable to take his eyes off Simon’s wedding ring shining back at him.

.

.

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Right back to agnst.

Its short but i enjoyed re-writing it to better reflect my writing now (i love my old fics but i had some things to work on lmao)

I hope you liked it!!