#it makes me so sad. where is her miracle!!! ;-;
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pasdetrois · 3 days ago
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also re: the earlier deleted lines post, i'm also thinking about this more heavily emphasized spiritual thread in the original script..
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bluebirdsfeathers · 11 days ago
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Corporate Life
──────・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader
Summary: The disappointment of not being picked to be Wanda’s intern wasn’t going to stop you from settling into corporate life. Especially since you were assigned to work with her brother, Pietro, and she always found excuses to visit.
Words: 2.4k
Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), no smut here but we might get there later (no promises tho).
A/N: I have an essay due that is less words than this and yet here we are. I’m going to introduce more marvel character each part. I have no idea how many parts this will end up being, but I know how it will end.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
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──────・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
The subway on a weekday morning was something you knew you’d never get used to. Everyone in a rush to get somewhere yet somehow nobody was moving even remotely fast. It was a miracle you’d gotten on a train and not just swept away by a mudslide of office workers. Heading into work you made you was straight to the elevators and back up to the third floor. Today you would be assigned to a department of the paper, and the anticipation was making you nervous. Unlike yesterday you were slightly early and where shocked to find you were the first one there. Taking a seat inside the conference room you were told to meet at, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling Instagram.
“I’ve never understood the obsession with social media,” A unfamiliar voice broke the silence, and you jumped slightly putting your phone down, “My apologies I thought you heard me come in.” Wanda smirked walking towards the other end of the long table, placing down some files, before walking back towards you. “I thought the paper was branching out into social media content?” Your voice came out a little higher than usual. Wanda stopped behind you placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze “We are… but that has nothing to do with me.” She said with a laugh before leaving the room.
It wasn’t long before the rest of the interns showed up along with Dr Banner, as he told you to call him, who you’d met yesterday. He looked to be around fifty with greying hair and a permanently sad expression. One of the first things he’d done was list his multiple degrees and explain how he’d ended up working here as an environmental science editor. The Westview Paper was one of the oldest most prestigious news sources in the country, maybe even the world. It had been in the Maximoff family since the 1950s, now being run by Wanda since her father’s retirement. Today you would find out what department you would be interning in for the next six months. Dr Banner handed out an envelope to each intern, rambling on about how pointlessly dramatic this all was and how he had other more important things to do than this. Everyone was quick to open their envelopes, the wait was just too much.
Your file read ‘Sports and Fitness’ in bold at the top. You’d been on the women’s basketball team in college and had spoken about it in your interview, you loved sports so this should be a perfect fit, but you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, she hadn’t picked you. “Lads look, I’m Wanda’s intern!” You turn to see Theo, who in this moment you decided you hated, holding up his file to the room looking far too smug. “I guess that proves I’m the alpha here.” You didn’t even entertain him with forced laughter like the others, you simply grabbed your bag and file and left to find a quiet spot to read. You discovered you’d be working for Pietro Maximoff, a quick google search told you that was Wanda’s brother and the head of that department. The file told you everything that would be expected of you over the next few months, some big and small goals as well as a weekly schedule that by the look of didn’t have you meeting with Pietro for a few hours.
To kill time, you decided to have a wonder around the building, the tour yesterday had given you a better understanding of the layout, but you still weren’t confident you could get from a to b without getting a little lost. Round every was another impossibly long corridor lined with doors and window into almost identical rooms that occasionally showed signs of life. As you rounded what must have been the fifth corner you saw a now familiar red head seemingly yelling at a room of men in suits. You stopped walking unsure whether to turn back or keep going like you hadn’t seen anything but before you could react the door to the room opened and the men hurried out, their heads held low like children after being told off. Your eyes went back to the room where Wanda stood, eyes closed, taking several slow deep breaths. Deciding it would be best to leave before you stumble upon something else you weren’t meant to see you turned around only to be stopped by Wanda calling your name.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” It was hard to read her tone, and a pit formed in your stomach worried you’d upset her. “I was just… familiarising myself with the building. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” You stumbled all over your words. “I should go I need to meet Pietro soon and I…” Wanda’s eyes lit up and a smile graced her face “Of course you’re his intern, why don’t I walk you?” You tried to politely refuse her offer, not wanting to be a bother, but she out right refused to take no for an answer, especially after you let it slip you didn’t know where his office was. Turns out it wasn’t far, one floor down and across the walkway and you where there.
The sports department was unlike the other places you been shown so far. It was lively with open plan desks, no cubicles or grey walls, instead hanging around the room was a variety of different countries flags and sports team memorabilia. The staff talked freely amongst themselves; you expected the noise to die down when Wanda entered but it didn’t. You watched her talk with them and share a joke or two, a stark contrast to the rage you’d seen her display moments ago. “Now where is he?” She asked the man she’d been talking to.
“Wanda!” You heard an excited voice call from across the room, “Wands! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about this side of the building. We’re still being published right?” Pietro’s smile was the same as Wanda’s, warm with a slight hint of mischief. He was much taller than her, with bleach blonde hair and light stubble. “This must be y/n? Great to finally put a face to the name.” He said giving you a playful tap to the arm. “Look Wands I would love to catch up, but I need to get y/n settled.”
“Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about, but we need to discuss that in private. Can I steel you at some point tomorrow?”
“Yeah sure, you have my schedule so let me know when you are free.”
With that Wanda gave you both a smile and left.
Pietro made fast work of the power point he has prepared, and you were glad to hear business wear wasn’t mandatory in his department. Which was a relief as you only had two formal shirts and you’d already worn both. He sent you home early after reassuring you the missing hours wouldn’t come out of your wages and any disappointment over Wanda not picking you was gone. You were going to really enjoy having him for a boss.
The rest of the week went by quickly, you had so much work to be getting on with and so many people to get to know. Your desk was right by Pietro’s so he could keep an eye on you and help you when you needed it. You looked at the clock, it was quarter to five already, almost time to go home for the weekend. That was something you were excited about. This internship only had you working Monday to Friday, that meant you had the whole weekend to yourself. As you hit save for the last time on what you were working on you heard the door on the far end of the room open and looked up to see Wanda followed closely by Theo.
“Hi, Pietro, this is Theo, Theo this is my brother, Pietro. Y/n, you remember Theo, don’t you?” You nodded and watched as the two men shook hands. Yes, you did remember Theo, how could you forget a man that reminded you of all your high school bullies rolled into one and served with a silver spoon. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Pietro asked playfully.
“Oh, you know, just making the rounds, checking on all the new recruits at the end of the first week.”
“We are? I thought you said you needed to check on something important?” Theo said obliviously and Wanda gave a nervous laugh. “The wellbeing of my employees is important Theo. Now y/n how have you been?” You tried and failed to meet Wanda’s eyes as she gave you her full attention. “Good.” Was all you could squeeze out; you didn’t understand why she still made you so nervous. “He hasn’t been working you too hard has he.” Her voice was light and had the same playful tone as Pietro’s. Finally, you found it in you to look her in face and were surprised to see a slight blush that almost matched your own. “No, he hasn’t.” you said leaving an awkward silence in the air. “Well, we better head off, enjoy your weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.” Without another word Wanda left, Theo once again following closely behind.
It wasn’t long before the excitement and novelty of your new job wore off and all you longed for was the weekend. You’d gotten to know lots more faces around the office, even the lady at the front desk. You learnt her name was Pam and she wasn’t a huge bitch like you initially thought, she was just going through a divorce and her ex-husband, Jerry, was the worst. Somehow, you’d managed to develop a sense of normalcy working in this place. The only thing that kept you on edge were the surprise visits Wanda would do to the department; she was always finding a reason to come down here. Most made sense, like visiting her brother, checking on what stories were being published, but other times it felt like she was going out of her way to poke her head in seemingly just to talk to you, which hadn’t gotten easier yet.
Earlier today, while waiting for a copy of an article she’d tried to start a conversation with you. “I like your t-shirt.” Wanda said as she sat on your desk. “t-thanks, I like your blouse it’s… pink?” You said in return, unsure what to say. “What does it say? Radio head? I didn’t think young people listened to the radio these days.” She said lightly grazing her fingers across your arm. “Oh, Radio Head are a band… like music and stuff.” You shifted awkwardly in your chair, turning back to focus on your work. Pietro returned with the article and Wanda got up and left, giving you a light pat on the back as she walked past you.
The memory of that encounter played on your mind as you got ready to leave work for the day. “Y/n! Hey, I need to head to a meeting, I know you’re about to go home but can you go upstairs to Wanda’s office and drop this off? She needs to approve it before it goes to print.” Pietro handed you the latest copy of the sports news magazine, Wanda was big on seeing the final product physically before it was sent of to print so you agreed to drop it off in her office. She was never there anyway, far too busy to sit down with the election cycle going on. You headed to the lift pressing the very top button to take you all the way to the thirteenth floor, Pietro had given you his ID to get clearance to do so. Once the elevator doors opened, you walked into what looked like a living room, but what was just a very fancy looking wating area. There was a door to the left you assumed to be a bathroom and two large doors straight ahead that must lead to her office. You thought about whether to just leaving the magazine on the coffee table but before you could the large doors swung open.
“I don’t care who his father is! I’ve had enough of him! Who does he think he is anyway selling information to…” Wanda stopped her tirade when she saw you standing there with an expression of shock on your face. “Y/n? What are you doing up here?” She slightly snapped at you.
“Pietro told me to give you this.” You held out the magazine visibly trembling. “I’m sorry Ms Maximoff, I didn’t know you’d be here.” You voice shook slightly as you tried to stay calm while rapidly pressing the elevator button. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m leaving now.” The doors finally opened, and you hurried inside. “Y/n wait I didn’t mean to…” Wanda’s words were cut off by the doors closing as the lift took you back to the second floor. Breathing heavily, you tried to calm yourself down. You should have just dropped of the magazine and gotten out of there. Why must you always get yourself in these types of situations? You hoped it would be a while before you’d next see Wanda, maybe she would have forgotten all about it by then. Realising you were still clutching the magazine; you headed back to the sports department. Placing it on Pietro’s desk, along with his ID, you wrote a post-it note apologising, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed with you. All you could think about on your commute home was how angry Wanda looked over whatever it was she was yelling about. It scared you how she can be so warm and friendly one second then completely switch the next. Sometimes you forgot how rich and powerful she really was.
Once inside your apartment you kicked off your shoe’s and sat down on your mattress now being held up by your nice new bedframe. The money you’d earned from this job was improving your life greatly. You’d bought a new pair of trainers without having to wait for your current ones to be falling apart. If this mistake today ended up costing you your job, you’d never forgive yourself. Taking out your phone you decided to take your mind off things by clearing out some work emails you hadn’t gotten around to today but at the top of your inbox was a new message sent only five minutes ago. It was addressed to all the interns and marked urgent.
The subject read: ‘Meeting tomorrow 9am, Floor: 3 Room: 24B’. A new wave of panic washed over you when you saw it was sent by Wanda.
──────・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
inspired by this post by @wandaslittlehorns
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sofiawritesstuff · 7 months ago
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Platonic
part 3
summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He's turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.
pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader
warnings: none (i don't think)
part 2
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It wasn’t uncommon for you to be late to plans, actually you had gotten used to it spending most of your time with Lando.
You ran through the paddock, running past as much people as you could without being rude and within two minutes you had finally reached the meeting point.
Slowing down to a fast walk you came out onto the terrace in hospitality, noticing the girls straight away as they waved you over.
“Well we’ve only been waiting ten minutes, I think that’s a new record time” Kika jokes as you sit at the table “Sorry, I was watching Lando in media, he’s just finishing up in the garage now and then filming stuff with Oscar”
“How is Lando?” Carmen asks “I seen his interview after free practice this morning”
“I tried talking to him about it but he really didn’t want to. I’m going to try when we get home”
“It’s sad that he just sees all these negative this about himself” Alex smiles sympathetically across the table
“I know, every time I tell him he just doesn’t see what I see” you sigh, running your fingers through your hair
“What’s wrong?” Carmen asks “Nothing” you shake your head “We can tell by the look on your face something is wrong, come on tell us” she encourages, putting a hand on your shoulder
“If I tell you something, can you promise that it stays between us. Like you can’t tell Charles, George or Pierre” you whisper looking around you
“We promise, what’s going on?” Kika asks leaning closer
“A few days ago, Lando came to me. He told me that recently McLaren have been told that Lando’s image outside of Formula One makes the team look really bad, Zak said that he needs to fix his “playboy” image. So they wanted Lando to go into a PR relationship, Lando refused and Zak told him that he needs to for the team. Every single girl they showed Lando he said no. So Zak told him that if by a miracle, he can find someone that is willing to help Lando and be in a relationship for a few months then that’s who he can’t fake a relationship with”
“So Lando came to you” Alex nods understanding “You’re basically already dating, it shouldn’t be too hard” Kika jokes
“It wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t have actual feelings for Lando”
The girls look at you with wide eyes, they never thought they would see the day where you actually admit it.
“When did you come to this realisation?” Carmen asks
“You know how I used to date that guy from my office?”
“The one that none of us liked? Yeah I remember” Kika laughs
“Well after we broke up, Lando was comforting me, we were lying in his bed watching a movie. It wasn’t until I woke up in the middle of the night and we were cuddling that I realised how safe I felt when I was with him and everything he did to comfort me. David wouldn’t have known any of that stuff”
“You need to tell him” Kika says excitedly “I can’t”
“Why not?” Alex asks
“Because if I tell him now, it wouldn’t be fair. I’ve w him so many times and now to switch up my feelings would be like playing with his”
“Have you ever thought that maybe you have always felt this way but you’re just now realising it? I mean you guys have been friends since you were like five?” Carmen asks “You know how he feels about you, so why don’t you just tell him?”
“I can’t bring myself to do it, if it didn’t work out I can’t risk losing what i already have with Lando. He means too much to me to loose him”
“So you think being in a PR relationship will fix that?” Kika asks seriously
“It will be the closest thing that I get to a relationship with him, guys I need honest opinions on this”
“Well I think you’re being stupid” Kika says bluntly “Kika!” Carmen scoffs “What? Would you me be honest or would you rather I lie to you? she asks turning her attention to you
“Honest”
“Well it’s a stupid decision if you want to continue with a PR relationship. You think that admitting your feelings and being in an actual relationship would go wrong. Doing this only to have a feeling on what could be will only give you the chance to make up stuff that could go wrong, whereas if you were in an actual relationship with him you could progress rather than having a countdown to when it’s over”
“I agree with Kika” Alex smiles taking your hand “You are thinking that it could be the worst thing when it could be the best”
“Thank guys, now enough about me. What’s been happening with you guys?”
“So how was meeting up with the girls?” Lando asks with a smile, swinging your hands back and forth as you walked
“We talked. A lot” you nod “Anything interesting?” he pries “Just how we can resolve problems” you shrug
“Any problems I could help with?”
“Nothing that we both can’t resolve” you smiles “Now tell me what you film today” you jump up and down excitedly “Nope, nuh uh. You’ll need to find out like everyone else” he laughs stopping in his tracks
“Come on I hate when you do this” you groan turning to face him “Yeah well that’s why I do it” he smiles, putting his hands under your shirt “Your hands are cold”
“Exactly” he laughs, tickling you “No! No!” you squeal trying to run away “I don’t know where you’re trying running to, I have the keys to the apartment”
“Im going home to England!”
“No you’re not!” he laughs picking you up and throwing over his shoulder “You’re never leaving me” he says calming walking with you over his shoulder
“I wouldn’t dream of it”
part 4
TAGS
@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313
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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago
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A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant
Just a thought 🫠
You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉
Description: 👆⬆️
Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows
You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him
He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea
Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that
You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you
You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel
You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact
Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control
He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry
Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself
Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort
You're just so sad sometimes
Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it
He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole
It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two
Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple
Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting
So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-
YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?
Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again
But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before
Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others
"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"
When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately
"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"
Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving
You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there
Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it
Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely
You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now
If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are
How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you
The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart
Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked
You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud
Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you
You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery
But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair
And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-
Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror
"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"
"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"
"Because you-what?"
It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place
"You got me pregnant..?"
He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-
When did he end up on the bed?
Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed
Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head
Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say
"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"
"T-Thanks Vaggie..."
The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for
"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"
"Don't you love me..?"
He'll be back in 10 minutes
The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around
"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."
"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."
Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone
Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now
They just want to see
As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother
Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel
"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"
She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad
Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you
"With a little help from the big boss of-"
"You haven't left already?"
"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"
"Your what now?
Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it
How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him
The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you
"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."
Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now
Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there
"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"
Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby
Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him
He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay
But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really
If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding
Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out
He's so proud to show you the finished look
The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you
He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you
Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along
Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him
Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can
Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms
You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile
"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."
Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her
Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants
TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-
"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"
"I would love nothing more, my dear..."
He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands
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A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS
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2-dsimp · 5 months ago
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Sneezes aggressively
Therapist who fucks reader after manipulating them(I need like something with a therapist and smut PLS)
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Cw: NSFW MDNI bimbo fem reader! Oral m! Receive, hypnotism, manipulation, unhealthy relationship dynamic, abuse of authority, slight degradation
Synopsis: You were struggling on keeping yourself together. Having no way to hire the best of the so called best to help out with your deteriorating doormat mindset. You found an a lifeline, seeing an old ad trashed up in the garbage bin. Where you discovered the man that would undoubtedly “fix you”
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Yandere therapist! that hypnotizes his darling bimbo into thinking the healthiest outlet to vent out her feelings is to worship his cock.
“Feeling sad? Awe don’t you worry sweetheart I’ve got your favorite lollipop right here! If you suck all of the filling out you’ll feel so happy I promise you”
Yandere therapist! Hummed in a sickeningly sweet tone, unzipping his fly to present his precum covered meat for his darling to binge on. Like you do for every session you guys had together.
Yandere therapist! Who tosses his head back with a low groan as he tangled his fingers into your hair. Looking down at his patient with a half lidded glowering stare. Letting out small pants as he stutters his hips into your open maw.
He couldn’t believe how adorably stupid you were to put your trust in him. He wasn’t even a credible therapist after he had lost his license from dabbling in questionable experiments.
But you, oh poor dumb you, decided to ring up his old business card at seeing the old ads of how affordable his “services” were. And he couldn’t possibly turn such a desperate pretty thing like you away. Not when he’s got a taste of having a little obedient doe eyed slut. Ready to drop on their knees ready for their dick treatment in lowering their stress levels.
Yandere therapist! Who rams his shaft down your throat holding your head so he could spray spurts of his cum down your tender throat. Loving hearing you choke on his length to the point you were clawing at his thighs. Tears welling in yours eyes at the fact that you couldn’t breathe.
“Shh, I’m almost there, breathe through your nose sweetie. Fuck— keep tightening around me. Atta girl~ you wanna be happy don’t you? I know you do. Make me cum and we can both be happy together yeah?”
That day you left the office feeling better than ever at the treatment Dr. Wesly gave you. Of course you don’t remember what happened after he snapped his fingers. As he told you that his methods are a sacred practice. But you couldn’t help but feel how sore your mouth was and roll your tongue at the faint taste of something tangy and bitter stuck in the back of your throat.
Shrugging your shoulders you overlooked it since you were gonna see him again next week. He truly is a miracle worker and you couldn’t have been any more grateful to have him as your aide.
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r3starttt · 2 months ago
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NOTHING MATTERS
PAIRING: Act. 3 Caitlyn x reader
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SUMMARY: You take care of caitlyn after her betrayal to Ambessa.
CW: SFW. Mentions of injuries, angsty and just one sad kiss at the end.
TAGLIST: @Kaimythically @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @kiki5gigi @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @rob1nbuckl3ys @femininologies @dinakisser @viajeros--sin--destino @GodessAgrona @patronagrona @halle5s @abvisionss
AN: this is too short and weird cs I'm trying to write again like, actually write and don't jump into heavy smut. Hope this doesn't floppppp cs... would make me so sad to see people are just here for the strap sucking fics (no judgment just, gimme time until I get back to THAT type or writing pls and thanks)
this is also for @champagne-problems-ate ily <3
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At the Kiramman’s own request—an expectation you had grown all too accustomed to by now—it was you who attended to the injuries she sustained in the aftermath of recent, turbulent events. The details of what had occurred remained shrouded in vagueness. Some kind of major upheaval had unfolded, the kind that left even seasoned soldiers and seasoned minds faltering in its wake.
What little information you gleaned came through the fragmented gossip of others, particularly from Maddie’s not-so-hushed commentary, for she couldn’t keep her tongue still in the Kiramman estate—there was something about the return of major authorities.
Where they had gone, and why, was a mystery to all.
And then there was Ambessa- the looming figure who had always straddled the line between ally and enemy.
She had never been trustworthy in your eyes, though Caitlyn, however, had once trusted her—or had pretended to, for the sake of her little army of loyal soldiers, the ones who worshipped at her feet. Like Maddie, ever eager to linger in the Kiramman household under the thin guise of concern for her superior.
She could hardly mask her longing—the way her eyes lingered, the way her voice softened when speaking of Caitlyn, the woman she so desperately wished would return her gaze with something more than polite dismissal.
It was a convoluted mess, a knot of politics and personal betrayals you couldn’t hope to unravel. Not because you didn’t care for the intrigue, but because your heart was too heavy with worry— for Piltover, and for yourself. For your family. Though the threads of your connection to Caitlyn had frayed over time, you still trusted her, still hoped, prayed even, that she would find a way to right the course of things. She had always carried that spark of possibility, a rare ember in a city obsessed with cold, mechanical precision.
Your own beginnings were humble, born to a family that clawed its way out of the undercity when they learned of your impending arrival.
A pregnancy was a miracle, a joy—but only if one could afford the privileges that made life bearable: clean air, decent food, warm clothes, a bath that didn’t leave the water darker than the dirt it was meant to wash away. They had fought for you, fought tooth and nail to give you a life worth living.
Perhaps that was your greatest flaw: you came from a family that believed others were always worth fighting for, even when you barely had the strength to fight for yourselves.
Caitlyn was no exception. For all the differences in your upbringings, she had a way of making you believe that Piltover could be something better.
She changed you, softened the shame you felt about your origins, even as she remained blind to the privileges she had been born into. She ensured that your family had what they needed—food, clothing, medicine—under the guise of friendship, of course.
Her mother had disapproved of you from the start, but the young Kiramman had a stubborn streak, a determination that, unlike most Piltovians, she wielded it not for greed or power, but for something she believed was nobler.
Caitlyn had a resolve that could have been dangerous in another life but, in her hands, became something noble, if imperfect. She sought to prove that power could be wielded for good, though her idealism often stumbled in execution.
Which lead to betrayal. So sutble yet so painful that made you question whether you had ever truly known her at all.
You understood the reasons, even respected them, though it didn’t make it hurt any less. After all, who were you to argue?
Sometimes, it felt like you were little more than a puppet on invisible strings, there to serve her needs and ease her conscience.
And so here you were, once again immersed in the gilded opulence of the Kiramman estate, a world you had only ever pretended to belong to. Her room, specifically.
The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers, a stark contrast to the grime of the Undercity that still lingered in your memories. You couldn’t tell if you felt out of place or too comfortably numb to care anymore. All you knew was that Caitlyn needed you, and for better or worse, you couldn’t seem to let her go.
The walls of the Kiramman estate had always carried a natural chill, but since her mother’s passing, they seemed colder still, imbued with a grief that seeped into every stone and every breath. The family was shattered, even yours, though you had only been granted fleeting glimpses of the late Kiramman matriarch’s rare tenderness.
She had never welcomed you into her family, never truly accepted your presence near Caitlyn. Yet, in her own quiet, calculating manner, she had permitted the offerings Caitlyn made on their family’s name. And when you proved, time and again, that you were worth the fight, she had acknowledged you in her own way. Subtle. Reserved. A nod from a distance, but one that showed approval.
Caitlyn, however, hadn’t spoken a word to you about her mother or about the weight she carried. She hadn’t needed to. You could see it in the silence that lingered between you.
There was more than just grief in that silence.
There was guilt, a festering wound she carried, knowing the harm she had wrought in her quest for justice—or something like it. She had wronged more than just you. She had hurt countless innocents, people you had reminded her time and again were just that: innocent.
Her assumption, likely, was that you resented her. That the wounds she had inflicted on your trust, on your view of her, had severed whatever fragile thread of loyalty remained. Perhaps she wasn’t entirely wrong. But here you were, seated beside her, flashlight in hand, performing the same familiar routine you had done countless times before.
“Please... follow my finger,” you said softly, your voice measured and calm, just loud enough to fill the space between you without unsettling it. She straightened her posture, obediently following the movements of your finger as you moved the light in measured arcs. Her pupils contracted under the beam’s sharp glow, tracking the path you set. You checked each eye, one after the other, before letting out a quiet exhale.
“Up—now, left,” you instructed, the light shifting accordingly. You watched her carefully, her reactions automatic, devoid of resistance. There were no major injuries to note, at least nothing to suggest lasting harm. You had already completed the rest of the examination, methodical as always: her neck, her mobility, her blood pressure, her vitals—all the fundamentals you’d committed to memory after countless similar checks.
Chaos had become a routine under Ambessa’s looming presence. The injuries she left in her wake had kept you busier than ever, patching up the aftermath of her schemes while Caitlyn’s own injuries seemed to evade your care—until now.
Switching off the flashlight, you placed it neatly back among your tools, each item returning to its designated place with a precision born of necessity.
She said nothing. Instead, she sat motionless, her gaze cast downward, fixed on her lap. Her hands rested limply at her sides, short, uneven nails catching at the edges of the bed sheets, fidgeting without thought. A small bruise marked her right cheek, its once-violent hue fading into the softer tones of her skin. Her eyes, red and swollen, bore the traces of tears shed out of frustration, anger, and despair—tears she had likely shed on her way back.
The faint marks on her neck told a clearer story, faint impressions of fingers that had choked her. You could only hope her opponent had been from the Undercity and not one of Ambessa’s puppets- most likely the hope was just that.
Caitlyn’s uniform was disheveled, evidence of her half-hearted attempts to remove it as you adjusted your tools during the examination.
The thin red choker she had worn was discarded the moment she sat, and the open collar of her blouse revealed the strain beneath her careful composure.
She was dirty—dust clung stubbornly to her skin, mingling with smudges of sweat and exhaustion. Dried flecks of blood dotted her uniform, though you were relieved to confirm it wasn’t hers.
Her muscles were tight with tension and soreness, but nothing suggested she had sustained lasting damage.
She sat there, a figure fraying at the edges, fragile yet stubbornly upright, her silence speaking volumes.
You couldn’t tell whether she avoided your gaze out of shame or because the weight of everything she carried was too heavy to lift her eyes.
Either way, the Caitlyn before you was a far cry from the determined, idealistic woman you had once known.
"Ambessa..." she said, her voice tentative, a thread of sound that barely broke the heavy silence between you. Her eyes, hesitant and shadowed, darted toward your face as if searching for permission to continue.
"She's—" But of course, she wouldn’t elaborate. Detailed explanations had never been her strength, not with you. She knew you had distanced yourself from the tangled web of her life, and she had never bothered to bridge that gap, to offer you clarity.
"You were right," she finally said, the words tumbling out like a confession. "I should’ve stayed away."
Her voice carried an unfamiliar weight, a subtle tremor that felt almost apologetic, though it was wrapped in her usual restraint. It struck you as strange—Caitlyn, apologizing.
Even if it was too late, here she was, sitting before you, speaking to you instead of burying herself in the false sanctuary she had so often sought. Nights spent with women in her bed, avoiding her father and the heartbreaking sight of it, leaving you to tend to the wounds of her mistakes.
You slid closer, settling yourself back into the chair in front of her, nudging the first aid kit aside as you nodded, a quiet acknowledgment of her words. "I heard what happened… Maddie," you said, her frown tightening in response to the name, though it explained enough.
"You need to be more careful, Caitlyn," you added, your voice firm, concern coloring your tone as your brows furrowed. "This could’ve been way worse."
She looked away, her pride tangling with something deeper, something raw. You could see the apology brewing behind her eyes, the unspoken words she couldn’t bring herself to voice.
Her pride, or perhaps her fear of your rejection, kept her tethered to silence each time she tried to approach you.
"You’re still worrying about me," she said at last, her voice soft, her lips curving into a sheepish smile. It was faint, but it was there—a flicker of the Caitlyn you had once trusted without hesitation. The same Caitlyn who would roll her eyes whenever you thanked her too profusely for a kindness she had offered without expectation.
And perhaps that flicker of familiarity, that glimpse of who she once was, kept your anger at bay. Instead of confronting her, you found yourself falling, once again, into the rhythm of her unspoken intentions.
"I never stopped worrying about you," you replied evenly, your tone as steady as you could manage. "It’s my job."
"I would’ve assumed you quit by now." Her words were quiet, a deliberate gentleness in her tone, as though she understood the fragile line you walked. She didn’t push, didn’t expect you to pretend as though nothing had happened. Not you. Not after everything.
"I can’t," you answered, your voice barely louder than hers. And it was true. She paid you better than anyone else could.
Your parents depended on that money now, their lives in Piltover still fraught with the challenges of surviving on the fringes. They had escaped the Undercity, but their station hadn’t risen far enough to escape the grind of near-poverty. Their survival was tethered to your work, and your work was tethered to Caitlyn.
"I’m sorry," she began, but her voice faltered, the apology catching in her throat.
She didn’t need to explain. You had been there, had seen firsthand the blood that stained her hands— The choices she had made, or failed to make, in the shadow of Ambessa and for the revenge that had lead her to absolute nothing but loss after loss.
"Are you?" you cut in before she could finish, your tone carrying a playful edge, a teasing rebuttal to her seriousness. For the first time in what felt like months, her lips curled into a genuine smile, and her eyes rolled upward with a faint exasperation that felt achingly familiar.
"I’ve been helping," you added lightly, your voice carrying a mock seriousness. "You know, for free." You let the last word hang in the air, a quiet jab that coaxed a laugh from her.
"I don’t hate you enough to quit," you admitted, your tone softening, more earnest now.
"Thanks, I suppose," she murmured, her voice laced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.
Before you realized it, your fingers had moved, brushing against her wrist. The warmth of her skin against yours.
Your fingers traced gently over the back of her hand, and she shifted her own to tangle them with yours.
"You’re welcome," you whispered, the words barely audible. You ignored the storm of words threatening to spill from your lips, and so did she.
Her hand slid up your arm, her fingers brushing over your elbow as she pulled you closer. Your heart stuttered, your mind warring with hesitation, but your body betrayed you. You let her guide you, let her bridge the gap.
Her eyes met yours, searching for something—permission, forgiveness, maybe even redemption. Her gaze flickered to your lips, lingering there with a silent question. You didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, you let your lips part, leaning into her, allowing her to pull you into the moment.
You found your place on her lap, your weight supported by her shoulders as her arms wrapped around you. Your breaths mingled, warm and shallow, until your lips finally met.
The kiss was soft, a hesitant yet undeniable surrender to the years of tension and longing that had tangled themselves into the growth of your relationship.
It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a quiet resolution to the unspoken devotion that had always lingered between you.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the mistakes, not the betrayals, not the wounds that still ached beneath the surface.
There was only this, only her, only you.
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byunpum · 1 year ago
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Mama's Boy| part 2
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Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's
Warning: kinda sad, crybaby lo'ak, Sweet family moment.
Note: Since the last post about this oneshot was so well received, I wanted to make another part. A little more sad, but with a good ending. More about lo'ak's relationship with his human mom and Y/N's relationship with neytiri and jake. If you want there could be a part 3, but that's up to you.
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)
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"Payakan how I wish you knew my mother" speaks lo'ak to his friend. The boy had escaped for a while from the metkayina clan. His new home. He went to spend some time with his friend tulkun, he needed to distract himself. He had been feeling so sad the last week, his birthday was coming up and the most important person in his life was not with him. "She would love you so much…she is beautiful and kind and…she is everything" says lo'ak lying on the creature's back. As he looks up at the stars, pointing to one. " my mom also come from that star, just like my dad…but compared to my dad, she is a human" lo'ak looks at tulkun, who made a noise of curiosity. Payakan asked himself the same question everyone asked when lo'ak said his mama was a human.
"Mama says that eywa blessed her with me…that I am a miracle. That I am her miracle." Lo'ak continues to stare at the star, as his eyes begin to glaze over with homesickness. "That's why I have my hands like this…as well as my feet. And my facial features are a little different…I look like my mom" Lo'ak laughs a little, trying to control the tears that were starting to come out. Payakan asks him if he misses her, making lo'ak keep a long silence. "Of course I do… she's the only person who understands me" lo'ak turns and hugs payakan. Payakan can feel lo'ak's tears fall on his skin. It breaks his heart, feeling his friend this sad. "I wish mama was here," lo'ak says, whimpering even more.
You had to leave your family, when Jake had to leave the clan. Jake thought it best for you to stay with norm, until he could find a safe place. Where you could be with the family. The omaticaya clan accepted you because you had grown up there, but in other clans humans were not welcome. So Jake would eventually try to get them to accept you, this was temporary. But it was still painful for the whole family. Neytiri's tears were running down her cheeks, and she didn't want to let go of your hand, as she walked up to the ikran with tuk. The little tuk was crying, as she asked you to join them. "My darling…mommy will be with you soon" you comfort the little one, neytiri did not let go of your hand. "Promise me you'll be okay" says neytiri, watching you nod your head. You were doing everything you could to control yourself. You didn't want them to see you destroyed, especially since lo'ak was watching you. The other children in the family were sad, and wiping their tears. But lo'ak was serious, looking straight ahead. He was upset with you, he thought you might go and it was you who didn't want to go with them.
You walk towards jake, he kneels down and gives you a soft kiss on the lips (the reader is wearing the oxygen mask I explained in this post "click here") "I'll come for you…I promise" says jake, hugging you as tight as he can. "Please tell him how much I love him…yes?" you pull away from him a little, to look at lo'ak. Your boy doesn't even want to say goodbye to you. "I will…don't worry he will understand" jake says goodbye for the last time and gets on his ikran. Everyone leaves, lo'ak takes one last look at you, watching your figure grow smaller the further away they go. And there right there his eyes begin to fill with tears. ++ +++ It was only 1 day before his birthday, and lo'ak couldn't feel more sad. Usually you two had a habit. Normally you were always with everyone in the family, you were always with your other children. But lo'ak's birthday was special, just for the two of you. You used to walk through the jungle, make jewelry for him. It was your time together, and now he was sitting on the sand. Watching the waves crash, while trying to arrange various pieces of snail shell. He had spent the whole day, searching for the materials he needed, getting away from everyone.
Tsireya together with rotxo and ao'nung went to ask what was wrong, well tsireya wanted to know. Lo'ak had been distant from the group of friends. "Hey…you" shouts ao'nung getting lo'ak's attention as the group of friends approached him. "H-hello" speaks lo'ak glancing at them quickly, but turning his full attention back to his work. "What are you doing?" asks tsireya, kneeling down to be closer to see what lo'ak is doing. "I'm collecting material to make some bracelets with my mom, for when she gets here," says lo'ak. This gets the boys' attention, looking at each other curiously. "When she comes? Your mom is here" roxto speaks while pointing to the sully's marui.
Lo'ak looks at him, and laughs a little. "No…my other mom…my birth mom. She will be coming very soon," lo'ak says. "You have another mom? That sounds amazing" says tsireya cuirious at what lo'ak said. "Yes, my mom stayed in the jungle, so she would be safe. She is a person from the sky" says lo'ak, realizing what he said. "Ahh mmm" lo'ak tries to fix what he said. "Your mom is a demon? How is that possible?" ao'nung starts to laugh, but rotxo pushes him away. "Is that true?" asks tsireya, watching lo'ak get flustered. Taking everything from the sand, and starting to walk towards his marui. Leaving the group of confused boys with more questions. "That was very rude of you," rotxo says to ao'nung. The boy lifts his shoulders and rolls his eyes.
Lo'ak arrives at the marui, lucky for him only his parents were there. Jake was helping neytiri with the food, they both saw how lo'ak quickly entered and went to the balcony behind the marui. He was holding some things in his hands and by his face they could see that he was crying. Jake looked quickly at neytiri, she stops him. "I'll go," says Neytiri. Getting up to see what was going on, he found lo'ak sitting down. He had some shells in his hands, together with other materials. As he cried inconsolably. "Lo'ak…everything okay honey?" asks neytiri wrapping lo'ak in her arms.
"I miss mom…she's supposed to be here. Everything is fine…why isn't she here?" cries lo'ak, tears were falling non-stop on his arms. Neytiri didn't know what to tell him, she missed you too. She needed you too, everyone in the family did. "Lo'ak I know you miss her…but you must wait a little longer," Neytiri says. Lo'ak looks at her, his look was one of upset. He looked like a lost little boy. "dad said she would be here….and tomorrow is my birthday and she's not here!!!! I miss my mom!!!" lo'ak cries harder, while neytiri hugs him. Cuddling him on her chest, she decides not to say anything and just comfort her son.
After a while, neytiri manages to calm lo'ak down. The boy stays on the balcony preparing his materials. While neytiri enters the marui, seeing that jake was waiting for her. "So?" asks jake. Neytiri sits up and looks at jake. Her eyes were soaking wet. "Jake… Y/N I miss her so much" neytiri wipes her tears, jake walks over and hugs her. "I miss her too" jake comforts neytiri. "Isn't there some way she…" neytiri looks at jake. Jake knew what neytiri meant, but it was a difficult situation. It had been a few months since the altercation with the RDA, and barely everyone had made it out alive. Neteyam had been badly hurt, lo'ak and the others had almost died. And spider had to return to the Omaticaya clan. Ronal didn't want humans in the clan, so it was very difficult for jake to bring you in. "Neytiri you know I can't do anything" jake tries to explain to her, but she gets up annoyed. But before leaving the marui she looks at jake. "For some things you move heaven and earth…but to bring our partner you look for a thousand excuses. She wouldn't look for excuses to be with us" says neytiri, angry.
Jake was between a rock and a hard place. They saw him as the bad guy, but he didn't want to put you in danger. Jake knew that something bad could happen to you, this was a dangerous place. But seeing his family suffer like this broke his heart. He missed you too. You were also his partner…he needed you. You were an important pillar in the Sully family, Jake felt that little by little everything was falling apart without your presence. He felt that he was falling apart without you.
That night was very slow, everyone had gone to bed earlier than usual. And lo'ak didn't even want to eat. He stayed in bed all afternoon. He would be lying if he said he hadn't cried a few times. He fell asleep, wishing his wish would come true that eywa would listen to him. It was the only thing he asked for.
In the morning, lo'ak began to open his eyes carefully, watching as the sun's rays began to enter through the entrance of marui, but he continued to lie down. He closed his eyes more, not wanting the day to begin. It was his birthday and he already knew it was going to suck…but out of nowhere he felt someone give him a warm kiss on the cheek. Ignoring the affection, he settled in more. "mama let go of me" lo'ak moaned, thinking neytiri was waking him up. But he felt someone kiss him again and heard that distinct smile. "Are you sure about that my love?" you speak, you were on the edge of lo'ak's hammock. Lo'ak's eyes snap open, looking back. Seeing the figure of his mother there, he couldn't believe it. "Ma-mama is that you?" asks lo'k, her voice was already getting shorter as he felt the tears building up in his eyes. "Mmm yes my love…I'm here" you caress lo'ak's face. The boy turns and hugs you with all his heart. Starting to cry out loud, he was so happy. "Mama…my mama is here" lo'ak doesn't let go of you at any moment.
This wakes up the whole family, who are left in speechless shock when they see you there. In the middle of the marui, hugging lo'ak. The first to jump out of the hammock is neytiri, running towards you. To join lo'ak's hug. "Ma Y/N, for my eywa" neytiri also begins to cry from happiness. The other children also run to greet you. "Mama!!!" neteyam nuzzles into your shoulder while tuk and kiri do the same. "How are you here?" neytiri pulls away to look at you, lo'ak hasn't let go of you at any time. Sometimes he forgets that he is twice your size. "Well someone went looking for me" you speak as you see jake, this one was at the entrance of the marui watching the whole scene. Jake approaches his family. "Well…now we have to figure out how to fix this whole 'demon' being here thing" jokes Jake, stroking your cheek with his thumb. But nothing matters at this point, because everyone was excited enough to think about anything else.
After a long welcome, all the children in the family decided to go get you something for a special breakfast, leaving Jake, Neytiri and you alone for a moment. Jake and Neytiri were watching you from a corner as you settled your things. "Did something happen?" you ask laughing a little, watching your partners look at you so lovingly. Neytiri was still teary-eyed. "Come here," says Jake, shaking his hand for you to join them. You walk over taking jake's hand, you were now in the middle of the two of them. You watch as neytiri moves closer to you, taking your face in her hands. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was enough to let you know that she missed you. You hug her neck, feeling her face in your neck. "I love you so much," says Neytiri. "What about me?" says Jake, still holding your hand. You two laugh, and you pull Jake close to kiss him as well. Feeling jake pull you into his lap, giving you kisses on your cheeks. While neytiri sat right in front of you, very close. Taking your hands, caressing them. Checking if you had no wounds. This was a very intimate moment, a moment you had not experienced for a long time.
"Ney I'm fine" you laugh, while neytiri keeps checking every part of your body. Lifting your legs and arms. "Are you sure? Nothing happened?" neytiri asks and jake just watches with a cute smile on his face. "Yes…the ones I'm worried about are you guys. And more you" you look up to see jake, he still had some bruises on his face and some cuts that were still healing. "Oh no baby…I'm fine, don't worry" jake says, feeling you touching some wounds on his arm. "He's very stubborn…I've been asking ronal to take care of him for weeks" says neytiri. You look at neytiri curiously. "Ronal?" you ask. "Oh..ronal is the Tsahìk of this clan, and speaking of her. Let her know you're here," says jake. Neytiri looks at jake with surprise and punches him in the arm. "Don't tell me no one knows Y/N is here?" neytiri looks at jake, who just laughs nervously. "Jake!!!" you start to fuss, but watch as jake laughs and takes neytiri's arm so that now she was on his lap too. Snuggling both of you in his arms. "I'll worry about that later…now I want to enjoy my ladies' company" jake jokes, giving them both kisses. You guys complain, but you don't complain about enjoying the moment.
Part 3?
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mind-intheclouds342 · 3 months ago
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x curly
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
You were tapping the end of the pencil in your hand against your leg repeatedly while writing in your notebook, sitting cross-legged on your bed.
"The ship is still moving, but I could perfectly hear its engines from outside... that means it's following a route, it would be great to know where it's taking us... Could the autopilot have been activated unexpectedly?...That would be a miracle... How could we trace the route we are taking?..."
You were thinking out loud and biting the pencil, hoping someone else would respond, but when you turned to your side, there was no one.
You missed him too much.
You needed to clear your head, so you left your room putting on your jacket to take a walk. 
As you stepped out and started wandering the hallways, you could see Jimmy approaching one of the dormitories.
"That is not your bedroom."
You mentioned exalting him and making him turn to look at you.
Jimmy: "I wanted... to see if Anya was okay, she looks very distressed."
"Don't do it, get out of there and leave her alone. Who wouldn't be distressed in a situation like this? Go to your bedroom and try to rest."
You pointed to the end of the hallway, waiting for him to leave, and when he did, you immediately peeked into Anya's room, seeing her deeply asleep in her bed.
You closed his door carefully and looked around, making sure no one was near. 
You decided to do something risky.
You headed to the nursery to try to get in and see Curly, but you felt frustrated when you saw it was locked with a code. You entered one, and end up getting a denied access, you couldn't help but let out a sigh and lean your back against the door, then slid down to sit on the floor.
"Did you seriously set a code so I can't come in and see you when you're alone? That's very cruel of you."
You said, resting your head against the door, hoping he could hear you.
"I'm sorry... I know you must be feeling overwhelmed... I have no idea what state you're in... I don't even know if you can hear me... I want you to know that I'm doing my best to help everyone move forward... But even so, I miss you and I need you with me..."
You started playing with your hands while you continued talking.
"I still don't understand what happened, how we crashed, others think it was you but... It's impossible, you would never do something like that... Right?"
You turned, kneeling in front of the door, resting your forehead against it.
"That's not true, is it? You're not hiding there trying to avoid me because you feel guilty, are you?..."
You let out a small chuckle and gave the door a gentle punch.
"What am I talking about? Obviously, it wasn't your fault... It must have been an unexpected event, something you couldn't control... And I want you to know that I'm on your side... okay?... Goodnigth, darling."
You got up from that place to start walking around the ship, hoping to find some peace before sleeping.
The next day, Anya was very curious about what he was doing to her door. 
Anya: "Is that a latch?"
"Yes, your door opens and closes during the nights, it makes a horrible noise, when you close it you can lock it with the latch to keep it in place."
You said, finishing installing that on the door, you tested it and pulled the door hard to make sure it would take a good hit to break it. 
Anya lowered her head, as if she were hiding her sadness from you. 
"By the way, do you know anything about the gun?"
Anya: "Why are you asking me that?"
"I can't find it anywhere, and I want to keep it out of reach of others, just in case."
Anya: "...No, I'm sorry, I don't know where it could be"
She responded still with her head down.
"Sheesh... I hope no one really has it."
You sighed, cleaning the dirt from your uniform, ready to go out and deliver the daily rations to everyone. 
Anya: "Captain-"
She said almost as if she were letting out a sigh after holding her breath for a few seconds. 
You turned to look at her, hoping she would tell you what she needs. 
Anya: "...Don't forget Curly's rations..."
"Of course not, I've already made sure to set aside something he can consume."
You nodded to continue on your path.
Daisuke: "This is more than yesterday!"
"As I said, Curly can't eat the same as everyone else, so I've had to change the portions, making them a bit more for each one." 
Jimmy: "Ha, I don't think you need more rations."
You took a deep breath, squeezing one of the packages you were handing to Daisuke to the point of making it explode, the cookies inside leaving them in crumbs.
Daisuke: "Aaaw..."
"Oh- I'm sorry- here, take mine-"
You said right away to hand them over. 
Jimmy: "And tell me, (Y/n), have you found a way to return?"
"It takes time, Jimmy, I need time, and calm, and the patience you're making me lose!"
You aimed it, it was clear how your hand was trembling with the same rage you were feeling. 
You still remembered your wedding day, after the ceremony, the disgusting way he looked at you in your dress, and you could hear what he said to Curly. 
"That dress is about to tear apart, why did you marry that?"
Many were surprised by the captain that day; they had never seen Curly so angry with his friend. Jimmy thought he would react the same way when he said other hurtful or unpleasant things, but that wasn't the case. 
You were never going to understand how your husband could be friends with someone so twisted.
And you would never understand how he decided it was a good idea to include him in the crew. 
You held your wrist trying to stop it from trembling and stopped pointing it to smile at him. 
"Here is your food" 
You told him in the end, throwing his rations at his face. 
"When we get home, I will make sure to tell the press that you were the only idiot who did nothing to help, just crying and complaining like a child. It's going to look great on your resume."
You finally handed over his rations to Swansea to leave and continue looking for a way to fix things. 
Swansea: "You're never going to learn, huh? You love to annoy her."
Jimmy just clicked his tongue in annoyance, picking up his rations from the floor to take them to his room and lock himself in there for the rest of the day.
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luv4freddie · 1 year ago
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The Mark - D.M
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Reader comforts Draco after he gets the dark mark
Exactly what you think it’s gonna be like. Tragic backstory, mentions of voldy and war, so sad, angst/comfort, 776 words
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Draco Malfoy was tired.
He was exhausted, yes. But he was tired of being the man of the family. He was tired of being a Malfoy heir, of being forced into boxes in order to make his family proud.
And now it was too late.
He laid in his four poster bed, fighting against the tears blooming behind his eyes and the stinging sensation on his forearm.
He shivered— he felt dirty. Disgusting in a way that wouldn’t wash out no matter how many times he scrubbed the spot where bony white fingers had grasped his arm.
He wanted to kick and scream like a toddler, but even now he couldn’t express the emotions building up in his chest— adrenaline, shame, fear, all joining in on his downfall.
He laid unresponsive, too tired to move but unable to fall asleep.
He can still hear his mother crying downstairs. She hadn’t stopped since the Dark Lord had left the manor, and taken her sons innocence and choice along with him.
Draco faintly registers the smell of smoke and a tumbling sound, but he makes no attempt to investigate, chalking it up to a clumsy house elf.
At least until he hears your voice.
“Dray?” It’s gentle in a way that makes all of his emotions perk up, fighting their way to his face as he finally moves; sitting up to face where you stand, freshly out of his fireplace.
He wants to talk— ask what you’re doing here, how you got there, if you still love him— but instead the most embarrassing thing happens.
Draco Malfoy starts crying.
Draco has not cried since third year, but a single look at you has him sobbing out into the stillness of the house.
Within seconds you’re next to him, pulling him into your chest and stroking his hair while you mumble reassurances into his ear.
He cries for a long time, giving his mother a run for her money with the his sobs echo off the walls, the silencing charm you’d put up to shield him from Narcissa’s ears only making them reverberate louder.
By the time he’s finally calmed down his voice is raspy and his eyes are bloodshot.
“They’re monitoring floo.”
“I know,” you hush him, “but that’s for the order members. They won’t care about us. They probably think I’m just sneaking out to smog you.”
He lets out a chuckle, but it’s airy and there’s no real humor in it.
He wants to tell you. But at the same time, he’s terrified that you’re going to be disgusted— that you’d get up and leave him just like everyone else when he inevitably disappoints.
You notice he subconsciously fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, and you grab his hand, bringing it up to place a kiss on his fingers.
“I know already.”
You want to cry with the amount of fear in his eyes when they meet yours.
“You- how?”
“Your mom was talking to mine about it.”
He lets out a scoff, “it’s a miracle she can get anything out with the way she’s been crying.”
You sigh, “can you blame her?”
“I’m the one that got branded, why’s she crying?”
You smooth a gentle finger over his sleeve, hating the way he flinches.
“Because you’re now a part of this war, a bigger part than anyone your age should ever be.”
He buries further into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and appreciating the way you wrap your arms around him, squeezing just enough to press your bodies into each other.
“Do you still love me?”
His voice is so small and hidden from where he’s laying, but you hear it nonetheless, and your heart shatters into a billion tiny pieces at the vulnerability and disappointment in it.
He’s expecting you to say no.
Instead, you grab his arm, bringing it up to where you can see it. At first he refuses to let you move his sleeve, but he quickly tires, watching your every move with droopy eyes and resigned interest.
He inhales sharply when you do it— roll his sleeve up and press a soft kiss directly onto the middle of the mark, right where the snake winds around the mouth.
“The Dark Lord himself couldn’t make me stop loving you, Draco Malfoy. This doesn’t change who you are.”
He breathes a small sigh of relief.
He was still a death eater, still an heir, and still guilty—but you loved him, and you weren’t going to leave him because of it.
So maybe— just maybe— he could survive this war. As long as you were here
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dipperscavern · 8 months ago
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Ok, just read your blurb about being Jessica’s assistant and being nicknamed baby.
What if the origin of baby was that someone was giving baby shit and someone else (Harvey perhaps) says the classic line “no one puts baby in the corner” when coming to her defense. Then it just kind of spirals from there and no one gives her shit again.
Also feel free to ignore this, literally just my first thought when reading your post!
oh my god. when i tell you i SCREAMED this is so genius & yummy.. PHEW. i know exactly what ur referencing ily & thank u so much for the ask! 🫶🏻
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“I’m just saying, the assistant to the Jessica Pearson.. and your desk looks like this?”
you roll your eyes, the hint of a playful expression on your face. while you knew he wasn’t being completely serious, you liked your desk — pink things, trinkets, & personal touches all. you found decorating your desk as a fun way of personal expression, and you were so damn good at your job, jessica didn’t care.
“Would you like to re-decorate for me?”
your reply is dripping sarcasm, a playful tone in your voice that masks how you really feel. you look up at the few bored associates hanging around your desk, and they snicker at your reply.
“Yes I will, thank you. It’s.. something. Could use a more professional look.”
that makes you frown. something? more professional? what started out as a joke seemed more like a personal attack the more it went on. tom, the associate who’s mouth was moving, never seemed to know when to stop. you’re about to say something when a miracle in the flesh steps in your line of sight — harvey specter.
it’s ironic, really. he radiates business when the very reason he came over to your desk was to shoo off the associates bothering you. he looks around to the people that have now stiffened up in his presence, and he gives them an almost confused look.
“And what the hell are you doing?”
tom swallows. “Just- messing around. Sir.”
“What?” harvey looks around. “What’s wrong, you.. don’t like her desk? Is that the nationwide issue we’re facing today?”
you look up at harvey, a faux expression of sympathy on your face. “He doesn’t like the color pink, sir.”
that makes harvey’s brow raise, for two reasons. one, his associates shouldn’t have the time to be complaining about any colors. & two, you’ve been on a first name basis with harvey for a year. he doesn’t mind people calling him sir, but he definitely does mind when it’s you, batting your lashes & giving him a look thats sure to distract him for the rest of the day.
“You shouldn’t have time to worry about the color pink. Time is money, money is time, and if you have time to complain then your workload must not be large enough to satiate your.. innate genius.”
harvey pulls out his cellphone while talking, as if he couldn’t be bothered to give them the time of day — which he really can’t. he’s not really typing anything, but they’ll never know that.
“Don’t be sad she’s not as miserable as the rest of you. Get back to work.”
mumbles of “yes sir” can be heard throughout the office as they move to gather their things & get up, obeying the order given to them with only slight disdain.
“Thanks, Harvey.”
he reaches for the two-pack of oreos on your desk, grabbing one & handing it back to you.
“Nobody puts baby in the corner.”
this makes your brows furrow as you smile, & he bites into his cookie as you reach for yours. he quickly notices the look on your face.
“What?”
“Dirty dancing?”
he gives you a look of his own. “Sir?”
you smile as he walks away, getting back to work of his own. & you fail to notice the associates ears tuned into your small conversation as you bite into your cookie. hey, what’s the worst that could happen?
“Thanks, Baby.”
“Hey, Baby, could you-“
“Where’s Baby?”
“I need this for Baby.”
you stand corrected. jessica pearson herself joins in after a mere day. “Baby, I need you to reschedule that meeting with Mr. Sawyer. Give him my sincerest apologies- I gotta run.”
“Yes ma’am.”
she quickly gathers her things & leaves, in a rush to complete her full schedule. once she’s gone, you put your head in your hands, sighing. your official nickname is baby.
and you like it.
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lie-lacdreams · 3 months ago
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Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 1)
Hello! I'm putting out my very first piece ever and I'm so excited to feed the masses as much Mouthwashing content as they deserve :) This game has a lot of sensitive topics to it and as such I'll try my best to bring them up as appropriately as possible. The story is gonna start off slow and elaborative because I love all of the Tulpar crew so much (except for Jollof rice, Jimneva convention) and they all have such interesting personalities that I couldn't help but to explore their wants and aspirations. This story will feature an alternative ending to the game because I cannot stomach sad things they make me very sad </3
Next
engineer! reader x curly TW: a bad word or two, I think word count ~ 1.9K
Curly was back in the medical bay for his routine psychological evaluation with Anya. With all of the questions answered and out of the way, the both of them were just chatting before he had to go back to the cockpit and finish up his duties for the afternoon.
“You’re all good to go, Captain. Seems like there isn’t much change from your answers like last time, as usual.” Anya let out a tired sigh. 
“That should be a good thing, given we’ve already been on this trip for almost two months now. We should all be used to the routine around here at this point. Has everybody else been adjusting alright?” Curly stood up from his chair, Anya following suit as they moved towards the door. 
“For the most part, everyone’s been well but I wish they would open up or take the assessment seriously. I mean, at least Daisuke has been making my job a little easier – he just talks and talks.” she mused. Curly gave a little chuckle in response, thinking about the last-minute intern that the Pony Express decided to add on board to their journey. He wasn’t exactly the most helpful – at least according to Swansea – but he brought an air of lightheartedness that they all needed in a cut-corners, shitty working environment like the Tulpar. “Oh, actually, have you seen (Y/N) lately?”
Curly thought for a moment. Along with Daisuke, (Y/N) was another late addition to the crew. The Tulpar has started showing its age and as such, there were increasingly consistent problems with the water pipes, life support, and fuel usage. However, instead of giving the crew a new ship, they handed the responsibility of keeping the ship up and running to the passengers. After their previous trip, Swansea went straight to the higher-ups and ripped them a new one, stating that “he couldn’t be expected to perform miracles”. When the crew was assigned this trip, they were all surprised that corporate had listened to Swansea’s complaints and granted them with another engineer. (Y/N) was self-sufficient, only really needing to work with Swansea to consult him on how best to move forward and with Daisuke when Swansea needed a break from his overzealousness. As a result, Curly saw and knew very little about her. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Why?”
“She’s due for her check-in as well but I haven’t seen her these past two days to tell her that. Go figure. We share a room yet recently she’s been waking up earlier and sleeping later than I have. When I went to ask Swansea and Daisuke if they’d seen her, they said that they haven’t seen her at all today.” 
“Huh. She’ll show up eventually. This ship only has so many places a person can be. If I see her, I’ll let her know to go straight to you. Thanks, Anya.” He patted her shoulder lightly before heading out, making his way back to the cockpit to fulfill his duties. 
In the evening, the crew convened at the table for dinner. Curly always looked forward to this time of day, where everyone had finished all of their tasks and could open up with light hearted banter. With only the six of them on the ship for over a year, all they had were each other, and he cherished all of his crew members. Anya and Swansea were chatting to the left of him about Swansea’s kids back on Earth. To his right, he saw Jimmy get increasingly agitated as Daisuke tried convincing him to swap dinners with him. That’s when he spotted the empty chair across from him and realized that (Y/N) was still missing. 
No one was concerned by her absence; it was a common occurrence, and he trusted Daisuke and Swansea to be in the loop about what she was up to and would report to him if anything happened. During the work day, everyone was so consumed with their jobs and couldn’t afford to worry about the whereabouts of the others, unless they needed to lend a hand. Curly wasn’t an exception to this. As the captain it was his responsibility to make sure his crew members were okay and that things were moving along nicely, and so far there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that indicated otherwise. With everyone finishing up their dinner, clean up began before people bid each other goodnight. 
In the middle of the night, he woke up parched. Debating whether or not to get a glass of water, he finally got out of bed and made his way to the lounge where the kitchen was. Leaving his room, he could hear a faint clacking noise grow slightly louder the closer he got to the lounge entrance. Opening the door to the lounge, he was finally met with the sixth crew member whom no one had seen all day. Sitting at the dining table, (Y/N) rested her feet on the seat of her chair and had her knees drawn up to her chest. All around her were books and loose papers scattered about. Her hair was messed up, likely a direct cause of the hand she kept on her head, fingernails digging into her scalp. Curly gently cleared his throat, trying to make her aware of his presence. Shooting a tired glance his way, her eyes widened a bit before immediately sitting up straight and tidying her hair. She looked guilty, like she was caught in the middle of doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. 
“Finally, we get to see her. Where have you been, Miss Absentee?” He sent a small smile her way, walking over to her.
“C-Captain! What are you doing up? It’s quite late.” (Y/N) nervously fidgeted.
“Just up for a glass of water. What are you doing up so late is the real question.” He crossed his arms. 
“Just doing a bit of work. Can’t get enough of it.” She joked dryly. Curly frowned and pulled the chair next to her to take a seat. She sighed and leaned back, finally relaxing from tensing up after seeing Curly enter the room. (Y/N) didn’t know her captain well, and as such she always tried her best to save face and remain professional with him, but at this hour of the night, she was too tired to keep up with decorum. 
He leaned on the table, facing her. “I know we may not be as close as you are with Swansea and Daisuke, or even Anya, but as your captain I care about how you’re doing and I want you to open up to me.” Her expression became hesitant as she shifted in her seat. “We’re all busy and even though it’s common for you to go missing during meal times, seeing you like this now is making me worried about how you’re doing.”
(Y/N) kept quiet for a second, looking like she was mulling something over before picking up the object right in front of her.  “Do you know what this is?” 
“An abacus. Interesting that you have one.” he said. 
“Yeah.” she sighed. She moved her gaze from Curly to the plastic Polle statue in the corner of the room. “Before I got on the Tulpar, they had given me all of the supplies I needed to fulfill my duties and do what they asked of me. I had met Swansea only briefly before so he could give me manuals and maps of the ship’s layout. I got the uniform, the steel-toed boots, notebooks, writing utensils, and a solar-powered calculator.” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d think that would be enough to prepare me to be here, but no . If only there was a way to have a bit of sunlight in outer space in a ship with no windows. They gave me something so crucial but useless out here. I had brought the abacus on board with me for sentimental reasons, but ironically enough it’s the only thing here that allows me to do my job.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not sure if you were aware, but Pony Express lied and said this was an internship for graduate students. Little did I know I’d be thrown into something I wasn’t going to have much guidance in. I needed a break from my PhD and even though the pay wasn’t that great, I was desperate for some sort of escape from academia.  I thought going to space would give me that, but every day I wake up is a constant reminder that I’m so underqualified. Swansea is an expert with the mechanical side of the ship and he’s helped me a great deal, but the fluid mechanics and thermodynamics of it all are things he knows nothing about. So I’m here, trying my best to play catch-up and praying that I figure out a solution so that this ship has enough fuel, enough air to last us an entire year, and that the Tulpar doesn’t pop like a pressurized soda bottle while we’re out here.” 
“(Y/N)...” Curly’s voice died at her name, shocked at this revelation and disappointed he somehow didn’t know about her struggle sooner. “I had no idea what you were going through. You always seemed to have a grasp on your tasks and Swansea always praised the work you did, so I just assumed you weren’t having a hard time adjusting. Have you told any of this to Anya during your evaluations?”
“No… I really wanted to believe that I could do it and stick it out, and so far, thank God, I’ve just barely made it every time. I really wanted you and the rest of the crew to believe I was capable and worthy of being here.” He cautiously put a hand on her shoulder, testing the waters on how he should comfort her. 
“You are worthy of being here. The fact that we’ve been having such a smooth trip with no complications so far makes that obvious. I really appreciate you opening up to me now. I want to do everything I can to make sure you aren’t stressed about your work. You need to get rest and eat like the rest of us. Sure, none of us are a chemical engineering smarty pants like you, but you can always ask for help, even if it’s just for something like bringing you food or running errands around the ship.” He smiled at her, and she weakly reciprocated the gesture.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Thank you, Curly.” Too tired to remember formalities, (Y/N) let out a big yawn, much to his amusement. 
“So are you gonna go to bed?” He asked. She threw her head back and groaned in defeat, murmuring a “yes”. “Good! I hope I get to see more of you around now that you’ll be asking for help, yes?”
“Yes, of course, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The both of them stood up, (Y/N) to head to her quarters and Curly to finally get his glass of water. Before completely leaving, she paused and turned back. “Oh, and Captain?” 
“Hmm?” He raised his head up to look at her again.
“I know you have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders looking after all of us. Please, rely on me too.” She smiled gently.
“Goodnight, (Y/N).” He called after her as she slipped through the door. He felt content that he was making good progress to gaining the trust of the crew member he knew the least. It always made him feel good to be the reliable captain he hoped everyone viewed him as. Having that conversation with (Y/N) made him a little more relaxed now that she had opened up to him for the first time.
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saveyourblood · 2 months ago
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Pretty Boy - Ch 6 (Buddie x Reader)
Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.
Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5
Chapter Summary: The tension between you and Buck brings you and Eddie closer.
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Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: none
Things between you and Buck are… weird. Awkward. Uncomfortable. The last time you had a real conversation with him, it was a fight, but it ended with you saying how much you care about him. It’s left you feeling like there’s an open wound on your chest, one that exposes your heart. You feel vulnerable, and you hate it. Your hatred of the feeling triumphs over your desire to be around him, at least for now.
In a weird silver lining, your lack of time with Buck has created room for one of your other coworkers — Eddie. Talking to Eddie when Buck was around always felt strange, like there was something in the air that wasn’t supposed to be. Which is funny, because when it’s the two of them, they’re as thick as thieves. Something about you being in the mix feels like adding oil to water.
You like to think you’ve gotten to know Eddie relatively well in the last few weeks. So when he’s staring off into space while the rest of the team is eating breakfast, you don’t feel awkward asking what he’s thinking about.
“Nothing,” he says, turning his coffee mug absentmindedly. “Just… this new school with Christopher.”
“Don’t think it’s a good fit?” You ask.
“No, it’s perfect,” Eddie replies, turning his attention to you.
You smile softly. “Then what’s the problem?”
“They need to do a family interview.”
“Again, what’s the problem?” you chuckle. “I mean, aren’t the divorce and custody agreement papers enough?”
“They would be… if I had them.”
You frown. “What?”
Eddie sighs as he rubs his forehead. He leans closer so you’re the only one who can hear him. “We’re still married.”
Apparently, you don’t know a goddamn thing about Eddie.
“Oh,” is all you manage to get out.
Eddie chuckles briefly. “Yeah.”
“Wow. Just… from how you talk about her, you made it sound like things were… over over. Like, officially over.”
“ Shannon and I aren’t officially… anything these days.”
“You’re officially husband and wife.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but he smiles as he does it. “Touché.”
“What’re you gonna do?” you ask softly after a moment.
He sets his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. “I don’t know.”
You just watch him and can’t shake the helplessness that washes over you. Eddie’s in a tough spot; no matter what you say, you can’t fix it. All you can do is be there.
“Tell me what I can do,” you say.
Eddie looks up at you with a lopsided grin. There aren’t many things you wouldn’t do to keep it on his face.
“I’ve been told I’m a lot of fun when I drink,” you continue. “Well, when I have three drinks I’m fun: that’s when I get dancy. After five drinks, I get sad. You can pick the number.”
Eddie laughs.
9-1-1 dispatch is down, making doing your job almost impossible. LA is a maze; without GPS navigation, you rely on your phone and eyes to do most of the work. It’s a miracle that dispatch existed before computers.
You’re in the passenger’s seat of the rig, and you tell Hen to make a right turn. When you pull up to what’s supposed to be the scene, though, there’s nothing.
“Dispatch, this is RA 118,” you say into the radio. “There’s nothing here.”
“No pregnant woman?” A dispatcher asks.
“There’s no building. It’s an empty lot.”
“Stand by, 118.”
You hang the radio with a huff.
“What’s going on with you?” Hen asks.
You frown and look over at her. “What?”
“You’ve been… off lately,” she explains. “Like, you’ve got this short fuse now.”
“Why shouldn’t I? We can’t even do our fucking jobs because some moron can’t fix a computer!”
Hen raises her eyebrows.
“Okay, point taken.”
“Buck says you two haven’t talked in a while.”
“Well, he’s a firefighter and I’m a paramedic. We can work the same shift and not see each other,” you shrug. “ I don’t know why he’s talking to you about it.”
“I’m not sure, but… it sounded like I’m not the only one worried about you.”
You play with your hands in your lap.
Hen sighs. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I hope it gets fixed, because you two are miserable without each other.”
“It’s not like that-”
Hen raises a hand to silence you. “I don’t know what you guys are… best friends, work spouses, or dating. Frankly, I don’t care. All I know is that, for better or for worse, you need each other. “
“118, you're gonna need to proceed to San Vicente, east of the Miracle Mile District,” dispatch crackles over the radio. “The nearest cross street is Sixth.”
You pick it up and push the button. “RA 118, copy that.”
“Where the hell have you guys been?”
When you finally arrive at the correct building, you’re faced with a pregnant woman lying on the lobby floor. A small crowd has formed around them, which you push your way through.
“We are fighting a system outage, sir,” Bobby explains, “we apologize for the delay.”
You crouch next to the patient on one side while Hen starts an IV on the other side.
“Hi,” you introduce yourself and don some gloves. “What’s your name?”
“Sonia. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, and 38 years old, which makes me a geriatric pregnancy,” she laughs a little. “God, I hate that word.”
“Word doesn’t matter: you still get a baby out of it,” you smile. “I’m gonna check how progressed you are, okay?”
She nods.
“10 centimeters, 100% effaced,” you observe. “You’re doing great, okay? On this next contraction, you’re gonna push, alright, Sonia?”
She doesn’t respond, so you look up.
Her expression changed. A moment ago, she was nervous but smiling. Now, her face is flattened, and she’s staring ahead at nothing.
“There's something wrong with the baby,” she says quietly.
Your body goes numb.
There are a few things you never want to hear a patient say, and ‘something is wrong’ might be at the top of the list. It’s called ‘impending doom’ — there’s no obvious threat, but it feels like something is about to go terribly wrong. You’ve seen patients die within minutes of saying something doesn’t feel right.
“Your baby is fine, Sonia,” you assure. “You'll-you'll be able to see for yourself in just a minute.”
“No! No, this was a mistake, all of it,” Sonia cries. “Roger was right to panic. Look, we can't do this. I can't... I can't do this. I shouldn't have this child.”
“Hey! Hey, Sonia, look at me,” you say, patting her knee to get her attention.
It takes her a moment, but her eyes eventually meet yours.
“All you have to do is push,” you tell her. “That’s it, okay? Just push.”
She still looks terrified, yet she nods.
On the next contraction, Sonia pushes. You coach her through the contractions, telling her when to push and when to rest. It only takes a few rounds until the baby is fully born.
“He’s here!” you exclaim as you wrap the baby in a towel.
There’s some happy laughter and a round of applause from the crowd as the baby cries.
“Beautiful boy, it’s time you meet your mom,” you say as you move to place the baby on Sonia’s chest.
She’s staring at the ceiling, her expression slack.
“I’ve got the baby,” Eddie interrupts, taking the baby from you so you can work.
“Sonia?” you say, rubbing your knuckles on her sternum. She winces, but barely.
“I can’t get a systolic above 70,” Hen says as she deflates the blood pressure cuff.
“She’s cyanotic,” you say, noting the blue tinge to her lips and fingernails. “She’s in shock.”
“Hemorrhagic?” Hen questions.
“She’s barely bleeding,” you shake your head.
You press your fingers to her neck. You don’t feel a pulse.
“Lost a pulse, starting compressions!” you shout.
Everything starts to move a hell of a lot quicker. Within seconds, the defibrillator is at your side, and as you compress Sonia’s chest, Hen is placing the pads. Eddie has a finger on her neck to ensure your compressions are effective.
When you get Sonia on the gurney, Eddie tags you out as the compressor to give you a break. Your entire body shakes with adrenaline, yet you help pack her into the rig and climb inside.
“She was fine,” Eddie mutters as he compresses. “Birth was going like clockwork, even for a geriatric pregnancy.”
“Sudden despair and fear and anxiety, rapid loss of BP, subsequent cardiovascular collapse…” you think aloud. It dawns on you. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
You’re reaching for your phone, dialing the phone number of the hospital you’re heading to. “It’s an Amniotic Fluid Embolism.”
Eddie looks over to you. His brow is damp with sweat. “She could be in DIC.”
“She needs Mass Transfusion Protocol,” you agree. You raise the phone to your ear. “LA general, this is RA 118 en route, I need to speak to your ER charge nurse.”
When you’re rolling through the ER doors, you’re kneeling over Sonia on the gurney as you do compressions. Doctors and nurses are shouting directions at each other, but all you focus on is your arms moving up and down.
You hop off so they can move her off of the gurney and onto the hospital bed. In the process, you notice that the defibrillator is showing Sonia’s in Ventricular Tachycardia — a shockable rhythm.
“V-Tach,” you say normally at first, then shout. “V-Tach! Everyone clear!”
The ER staff has no idea who you are, but when someone shouts those words, anyone with a medical background knows to listen. Everyone backs away with their hands raised. After hitting the ‘charge’ button, you do a quick survey to ensure no one is touching Sonia. Then, you hit the lightning bolt to deliver a shock.
Sonia’s body jerks at the electricity. The EKG tracing goes from tombstone shapes to a flatline. Then, there’s a beep and a QRS complex. Then another, and another.
“Got a pulse!” a random voice shouts.
You make your way out of the trauma bay and into the hallway, where Eddie’s waiting for you.
“That was… amazing,” Eddie says.
You stand next to him wordlessly. You nod but then let out a sob as you collapse against the wall.
Eddie helps lower you to the floor. He keeps a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“God, this is embarrassing,” you remark between a few sobs.
“It isn’t,” Eddie immediately responds. “We’ve all been there.”
“It’s, uh, it’s how my mom died,” you say with a sad laugh. “They didn’t catch it in time. She bled to death internally. I just… I don’t know what I would’ve done if she didn’t pull through.”
“She did,” Eddie says, moving his hand from your shoulder to your knee. “She pulled through because of you.”
You nod again, wiping away some of your tears. “Thank you.”
Eddie nods in return. You notice that his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes.
It happens in the smallest of movements, but before you know it, your forehead is pressed against Eddie’s. You can feel his breath on your mouth. You quietly gasp at the sensation, and it makes him sigh.
You press your lips together. “You’re married.”
“She wants a divorce,” Eddie whispers.
You smile sadly. “You’re still married.”
Eddie sighs again, but this time, he moves away from you.
“I’m not saying it can never happen,” you say quietly. “All I’m saying is that I’m not that kind of girl. And you definitely aren’t that kind of guy.”
Eddie nods, his mouth shifting into a few different expressions.
You rise to your feet and offer Eddie a hand. “Let’s get back to work, Edmundo.”
Eddie laughs genuinely at the use of his full name. He takes your hand and uses it to help get himself up, but he continues holding it when he’s standing.
“Back to work,” he agrees and squeezes your hand before letting go.
You’re heading out a scene call, fire in progress with multiple victims suspected. You’re driving the rig while Eddie sets up the back. The 118 is the nearest firehouse, so your unit will be the first on the scene. It comes with a lot of responsibility, but you know you and Eddie are ready for it.
That is, until there’s a massive ‘BOOM’ from behind you.
You immediately pull over and look in your rearview. The engine following behind you is now on fire and lying on its side in the middle of the intersection. You can see a few firefighters lying on the pavement.
“Eddie, grab our bags!” you shout as you unclick your seatbelt.
You fly out of the rig and meet Eddie in the back. Instead of handing you your bag, he sets a hand on your shoulder and pushes you both to the side of the ambulance.
“What the hell?” You ask.
“There’s a bomber,” he says in a low tone.
“What?” you ask again, peering to the side of him.
Sure enough, there’s a kid — no older than twenty — with several pipe bombs strapped to his chest. He’s holding what appears to be the detonator in his hand. Someone is laying at his feet, his leg pinned under the passenger side of the engine.
Buck was sitting in the passenger’s seat.
You try rushing forward again, and Eddie grabs you by the waist this time.
“It’s Buck!” you scream as you struggle against him.
“I know,” Eddie says, his arms wrapped around you as he presses your back to his chest.
“We have to do something!” you cry, still thrashing against Eddie.
“We have to wait for the scene to clear,” Eddie explains. It’s more than a little annoying how calm he sounds. “If you go in now, both of you could die.”
“So what, we just let him die?” You ask, but you’ve stopped fighting.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, but his grip around you loosens. Eventually, you feel his arms drop back to his sides. That’s when you make a run for it.
You make it far enough to catch the bomber’s attention. You raise your hands in the air.
“I’m not who you want,” you explain, “I just want to help him. He has nothing to do with this. He has friends and family… he’s my family. Please, just let me help him.”
The bomber looks from you to Buck, then back at you. “He’s collateral damage.”
“Is that how you see yourself?” Bobby interrupts. He approaches with his hands raised.
The bomber’s attention shifts to Bobby, the person he’s been after this whole time. You use it as a window of opportunity to approach Buck slowly. When you finally reach him, you crouch down by his head.
“Hey, Pretty Boy,” you say softly. You set a hand on his head. “How’re you feeling?”
His left leg is the one that’s pinned, and he’s lying on his stomach. He tries to look up at you. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” you joke. You move your hand to his neck. “Are you in pain?”
“No, just kind of numb,” he says. “That’s not good, right?”
Your heart sinks. “You’re in shock: it’s normal.”
Bobby manages to distract the bomber long enough to subdue him. As the bomber gets rushed off, the rest of your team rushes in.
“Eddie, start two lines, wide open,” you instruct. “Hen, get him in the C-collar.”
You dig in the medi bag for a tourniquet. As you apply it, you try to drown out the sound of Buck crying out in pain.
“How are we doing?” Bobby asks as you stand.
“We’re out of time,” you mumble. “We need to get him out and to the nearest trauma center.”
Any extra body moves to the truck, waiting for the count to lift it. You place yourself in front of Buck, taking both of his hands.
“We’re gonna get you out,” you promise.
He nods slightly.
“Okay, my count,” you say as you move your hands to underneath his arms. “1… 2… 3!”
As everyone begins to push, you start pulling on Buck. He isn’t budging.
“It’s too heavy,” Bobby says.
“We got anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” Eddie suggests.
“No, we need more people,” Chim says, picking up his radio. “Dispatch, this is 118…”
There’s some clattering from across the way. Bystanders are pushing through the barricades to help. This time, you’re able to get him out.
You get him on the backboard, then onto the gurney. The whole time, you’re telling him that he did a good job and that he’ll be okay. As you’re running with him to the ambulance, he mumbles something. Once you’re settled into the rig, you ask him to repeat himself.
“You’re my family, too,” he mutters.
You wait in the waiting room the whole time Buck is in surgery. When he makes it out of recovery and to the ICU room, you don’t leave his side. You’re sure visiting hours are over, but you stay out of the nurse’s way. She doesn’t say anything; she just gives you a sympathetic look every once in a while.
You hear him stir a little bit. You look up from your phone to see Buck blinking awake.
“Welcome back,” you smile.
“You’re here,” he says, voice rough.
“Where else would I be?”
Buck looks around the room, slowly orienting himself. His eyes eventually land on his leg, which is in a cast and suspended in a sling. His eyes widen, and he lets out a few breaths as he tries to sit up.
“Okay, okay,” you set a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“Is it?” Buck asks. “Did you talk to the doctor? Did he say anything about how the surgery went?”
“Just that you made it through,” you say softly. “And you're now the proud owner of one titanium rod and four beautifully cobalt-chromed screws.”
“Before they wheeled me in, he, uh… he said he didn't know how it was gonna go.”
You take his hand gently. “You’ll walk again, Buck.”
“Yeah, h-he said… he said he was pretty confident about that. He, uh, he just... he didn't know if I would ever… work again.”
You run a hand over your face. “Okay, I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you everything will work out how you want it to. But what I will say is that we should take this moment to be glad that you’re alive.”
“I’m really sorry about our fight,” Buck apologizes.
You laugh. “Buck, that is… so far from being important right now.”
“No, it isn’t,” he insists. “It wasn’t fair, how I reacted. I’m proud of you. I was just… scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Losing you,” he admits quietly.
“Yeah, well, I was pretty scared of that today, so we’re definitely even,” you joke. Your smile softens and you squeeze his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You move your hand to his forehead. You trail it down to his cheek, letting it rest for a moment. You turn your body to face him better. His eyes are closed, which you’re grateful for because if he were looking at you, you wouldn’t have the guts to do what you want to do.
You kiss him. It’s hesitant at first, and when he doesn’t react right away, you start to pull back. Before you can, Buck has his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Your hand moves from his cheek down his neck and eventually rests on his chest. You only pull away when your lungs are burning from lack of air.
Buck traces his thumb over your lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
You blush, laugh, and bury your face in the crook of his neck.
 Ch 7
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natjennie · 10 months ago
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getting some responses on my post about kristen and her parents conversation, specifically the "isn't it kinda funny that helio chose you and you were the one to bring the daytime back" and I think it's really interesting how different people responded to it like. maybe it's because I live in the southern united states but. there is a lot of religion, specifically christianity, as that is the obvious analogue to the helioic faith, that is downright evil, I agree. and obviously the prevalence of it is harmful to a lot a lot a lot of people, just as it's harmful to kristen in fiction.
but you have to understand that the individual people are deluded, they genuinely believe what they're doing is right. it's really easy to be like "ugh they sicken me it makes me so mad" in a theoretical sense but. do you have drive through workers wishing you a blessed day. do you have people see your kt tape and offer to pray for your pain to go away. like. idk I just think we have to have a little bit of compassion and understanding for people that are so entrenched in their faith that they do truly believe from the bottom of their heart that what they're preaching is true. especially in a world where divine magic is real!! kristen TALKED to helio. she makes literal miracles happen on the daily. so faith in that world is gonna be heightened to a crazy degree.
obviously I condemn their human-supremacy and their cult practices etc etc etc but in that little moment I felt for the applebees. it didn't make me mad or disgusted or annoyed. it made me sad. because they saw their daughter perform a miracle of the sun and it meant nothing to her. that "that doesn't feel special at all to you?" wasn't from a place of arrogance. they weren't lauding it over kristen. they were pleading. begging her to see it from their eyes: she is the chosen one. she is a prophet of helio and has been doubting and they want what's best for her. she's their savior. she brought the sun back from the endless night. that doesn't feel special at all to you?
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padfootagain · 2 months ago
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Love in Verses (XXXI)
Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’
Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is The Party… chapters 31 and 32 are twin chapters, the party will be told from both perspectives, this one from Andrew’s and the next one from MC’s. Just so you know…
This is one of the first scenes I’ve written when I began working on this project, so I’m quite fond of it even if it makes me cry…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here
Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?
Word Count: 3678
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
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Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking
On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.
Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.
There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
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It was working, Andrew was certain of it.
He had hoped it wouldn’t, that seeing you flirt with another man would leave Frank unbothered, ignoring you completely. It was a little cruel, maybe, because it meant that you would be sad, that you would be hurt by his reaction. But as he stared at you letting a man trace a line up your arm… your bare arm…
Andrew looked away, feeling sick, feeling like his world was crushing down around him. Collapsing. It was like… like being dumped by Samantha all over again…
He downed his whiskey, letting the burn of the liquor ground him to the present once more, but the relief was temporary, and soon enough, he was looking up at you again and you were leaning to whisper something in that stranger’s ear.
He turned around this time, unable to stomach the sight of him resting a hand on your waist.
The plan was simple. You were to make Frank jealous, by wearing that divine dress you had bought with Andrew, by flirting with another man. Andrew had thought about playing that role, being the man you would flirt with, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t have survived the cruelty of that situation, of you faking to be interested in him that way. Not when he loved you so ardently. And so, he was merely keeping an eye on you now, staying close to one of the tables where whiskey was being poured generously, avoiding to talk to anyone at this gigantic party, checking that you were safe, while you let another man flirt with you and touch your waist…
He downed another glass…
“You’re alright, Andy?”
He turned to his left, following the voice that now called him. Samantha, of all people… brilliant.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” he answered, shifting awkwardly.
“Thanks for coming today. I’m glad we can still be friends despite all of this. I know that it must be… peculiar sometimes, but… Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”
“No need to thank me for that.”
She placed a hand on his forearm, and once, not so long ago, it would have made his heart grow warm. Now, he felt nothing. It felt like they had happened a lifetime ago, the days when he loved her.
He thought of you, behind him, and he tried not to picture you kissing that stranger, because then he…
He poured himself another whiskey, downed it again.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, raising up an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you drinking so much since college!”
“Well, we’re celebrating, aren’t we?”
“Andy?”
“Hmm?”
He looked at her once more. Her and her dark hair, and her beautiful eyes, and the lips he thought he would spend the rest of his life kissing. How strange… now she let another man kiss them, and he wanted to kiss someone else… Their mouths didn’t belong together anymore. And Andrew then realised that he was okay with that. He wasn’t okay with how it had all happened, how it was still happening… but he couldn’t picture himself loving her again. He was looking at her, beautiful and perfect on paper… and all he could think of was you.
The music was loud, they had to raise their voices to be heard over the shallow beats. The chatter of the room Sam and Frank had rented for the special occasion was almost deafening. Andrew’s head was spinning a little, the alcohol kicking in. He still wanted another drink…
“Do you… do you hate me?”
He frowned, surprised by her question, by how direct it was too. She was a pro at circling an issue.
He thought for a moment, didn’t find an obvious answer.
When he thought of hate, he thought of that man with his hand on your body. He thought of Frank and the way he still made your heart bleed…
“Why are you asking this?” he asked back instead of answering.
“Because I… I know that the way we ended things was… messy. But I don’t want you to hate me. I… I still care about you, Andy, even if…”
“Even if you don’t love me anymore.”
It was becoming a little hard to remain standing, his world was spinning.
Were you still there with that guy? Would you… would you let him kiss you the way you had let Andrew do it in your office? God… would you be the one kissing him, the way you had kissed Andrew that night in your flat?
Samantha blinked, Andrew was puzzled as he noticed tears in her eyes.
“I think… a part of me is always going to love you, Andy.”
His eyes grew round in surprise. Was it working? Was their stupid, idiotic, foolish plan working? This was ridiculous…
… would you go back to loving Frank? Frank was a fucking dickhead…
“Do you ever wonder what could have been our lives if we had remained together?”
I wouldn’t have loved Y/N the way I do now…
And yet a couple of seconds later, he was changing his thought.
I would have fallen for her still… despite loving you…
“I used to,” he answered truthfully, stopping his answer before it would hurt her, but she insisted.
“And now?”
He was too drunk to lie. And if he were to be fully honest, he didn’t mind being rough, hurting her a little. He hated himself for the selfishness of it, but he answered earnestly anyway.
“Not anymore, no.”
“Really?”
“I… I don’t think of you like that anymore. I’ve moved on.”
She raised an eyebrow, but seemed unimpressed.
“Have you? So quickly?”
He shifted, uncomfortable. And he didn’t like being bitter, being too honest and being hurtful because of it, but… but you were flirting with another man, and Andrew was drinking too much tonight… And you were wearing that green dress, the one you had bought together, and he could picture you now, and he didn’t want Frank to see you in it and regret you, because he didn’t deserve it and… and you had bought that fucking dress for Frank… for Frank…
“I don’t love you anymore,” he said plainly, the flatness of his tone hurtful by itself. “Like I… I’m not in love with you. I… I want someone else.”
“Someone else?” she asked, and her voice was annoyed but he noticed the glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eyes.
She was hurt. But then again, she had been the one shattering his heart and his self-esteem, and his world, and the confidence he had taken so long to build…
He went on anyway.
“Yeah… I… we’re not dating or anything. But I… I like her. A lot.”
“Have you asked her out?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think she’d be interested. That’s okay. I don’t mind.”
No, he didn’t mind that you didn’t feel the same. You were a little too good for him anyway. Out of his league. You ought to deserve better…
“Now, that’s just your head saying dumb things,” she said, and even if her tone wasn’t kind, her words were reassuring.
“Maybe,” he shrugged.
“Andy… when are you going to understand that… You do deserve to be happy? That you are worthy of happiness too, huh?”
His next comment was unnecessary, but it felt good to tell the truth anyway.
“I had grown better at that while we were together. You breaking up with me to run off with someone else kind of destroyed that progress…”
He stopped resisting the urge to drink, reached for another whiskey, downed it in one gulp.
“I’m sorry, Andy. But we… weren’t right for each other.”
He wanted to argue, for the sake of it, to contradict her, but he was honest instead.
“I have to agree with that.”
He looked in your direction again, just a quick glance, just to check that you were alright. Frank was staring at you from afar too. That guy was leaning closer now, although you didn’t seem so willing to play along anymore. Andrew’s heart quickened, and soon it was pounding…
“Andy?”
“Hmm?” he asked back without looking at Samantha.
A sign… just one sign from you and he would come and make sure that guy would stand back…
Frank seemed to have read your body language as well, the bastard… he was walking over to you. Andrew closed his fists tightly, refraining from crossing the distance between you and him, from pushing that guy away, from telling Frank to fucking leave you alone because, Christ, you deserved so much better than him…
“Are you listening to me?”
Andrew almost jumped as Sam touched his arm again…
“What?”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, yeah… sorry, I was… lost in thought…”
“I was saying that I’m glad you and Y/N seem to get along. As you’re working together. I was worried when I learned she was Frank’s ex that it would make things awkward at your workplace.”
“We’re fine.”
I’ve fallen in love with her when I didn’t even think I was capable of loving anyone else after you…
“She seems nice,” she added, but her voice was weirdly flat.
“She is,” Andrew nodded, his heart fluttering as he talked of you. “She’s… she’s grand. She’s really nice, and… she’s a laugh, like… and very smart too.”
“Sounds like a catch.”
He didn’t answer, she didn’t seem to notice.
She was staring at you now too, while Frank had reached you and that stranger. He was talking with the guy, seemingly ignoring you, and even from afar Andrew could see that you were disappointed. The son of a bitch. He was pushing that guy away, without acknowledging you, he was making you feel terrible about yourself, Andrew could tell, and…
“I wonder what Frank saw in her.”
Andrew pondered on her question, and… God, he had so many things he saw in you. Your kindness, your wits, your passion for your work, your sense of humour, your smile, your eyes, the curve of your eyelashes, how fucking smart you were, your warmth, your voice, your way to scrunch up your nose a little when you were thinking, your anger, your talent, your…
… you, just… you…
But Frank? Did he see all that?
How could he have seen all of that, and still leave you?
The guy you had been talking to left, his drink in hand and a polite smile on his lips. Frank turned to you, got a conversation started. And Andrew wished he was right when he thought he could read in your expression that you were forcing yourself to look happy with his attention. Andrew didn’t believe in God, but he prayed still, silently, for you to see that Frank was not good enough for you, for you to long for his company instead… Christ, he hoped he was right when he read in the way you leaned away from Frank that you had changed your mind, that you didn’t want him to touch you the way he had just held your arm…
“Anyway, who’s the lucky woman you’ve spotted then? Do I know her?”
Andrew looked at Samantha, but he couldn’t hide the annoyance in his voice as he answered.
“I don’t really want to talk about that with you, honestly.”
“Right…”
Frank was taking a step closer to you, his hand inching for your waist…
Andrew was never one to pick up a fight, but he wanted to punch your ex in the face so bad…
“I feel a lot of resentment today, Andy…” Samantha said, trying to dissect his brain, the way she used to when they were together, but Andrew was not in the mood. “Did something happen?”
He let out a long exhale through his nose, refused to answer.
“You said you were ready to put all that happened behind us.”
He was about to argue, but he couldn’t. She was right. What a fucking fool he had been… to think that he should still want her after she broke what they had spent years building, for some random guy she had met a few weeks before. And then she was inviting him to her wedding, and he was there running back right into her arms? She was marrying Frank after knowing him for mere months when she had claimed not to be ready for marriage with Andrew when they had spent seven years together? She had not even agreed to move in with him… It seemed to hit him then, how much of a fool he had been, and the little self-esteem he had left finally took over to show him that he deserved better than to be treated like that. Anyone would deserve better. He was being an absolute fool. And you were too, you and your broken heart and he couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t pretend that all this was alright, that he didn’t want to kiss you…
He had one last question to ask, one last thought that was holding him back, one last answer he was too afraid to receive. He finally asked it.
“Frank left Y/N two weeks before you left me,” he started, the coldness of his tone unusual for him. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”
Samantha blinked.
“Why are you asking me this?” she asked back, but Andrew didn’t back down, his hazel eyes turned into steel.
“Answer me. Did you sleep with Frank before you left me?”
She remained silent, and he knew what it meant.
He thought he would be hurt, and he was, but the main emotion that came rising in his chest, made his blood boil, blinded him for a moment, was hate. Rage and hate. A lethal combo…
He huffed, shook his head.
“I left right after, and it wasn’t planned… it happened once, and then I left, and it didn’t last… it’s not like I was having an affair.”
“Shut it!” Andrew hissed. “Just… shut up for once!”
Her eyes grew round. It was so unlike Andrew to use such a mean tone…
“Andy…”
“I can’t believe you did something like this to me…”
“You’re not perfect either, Andrew, don’t pretend…”
“Don’t pretend what?! That I was always faithful to you? That I loved you? That I wanted to spend my life with you when you dumped me for a guy you barely knew?!”
“And why do you think I did that?” she answered, with venom in her words, and Andrew hated himself for falling for it. He knew she was being mean, that he shouldn’t have believed her, but he was the one always doubting his own worth, he couldn’t help it… “I’m sorry, Andrew, but you weren’t perfect either. And the truth is, I wasn’t happy enough with you.”
The word enough echoed in his head, out of context, he applied it to himself. He could feel his brain starting to spiral… but he forced his gaze to remain on Samantha. His thoughts had turned to you, and he had to check…
“Did Frank cheat on Y/N too?”
“What does it matter to you…?”
“Just. Answer. The. Damn. Question,” he hissed through gritted teeth, struggling not to shout it instead.
She heaved a sigh, but answered still.
“No… no, he didn’t. The first time anything happened between us was three days before we two broke up. And Frank had already ended things with Y/N to be with me.”
Andrew heaved a sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, and Samantha frowned at his reaction.
“What does it matter to you?” she snapped.
“It matters to me that I’m glad her partner didn’t do this to her,” he replied, grabbing another drink.
“If you’re so angry at me, what are you doing here?”
Andrew bit the inside of his cheek to refrain his earnest answer.
Because Y/N needs me here.
“Honestly, I have no fucking clue…”
He downed yet another glass, walked away before Samantha could answer anything, and he headed towards the exit, fleeing the reception. He caught your eyes as he was passing not too far from you, refrained his urge to reach for you and hold you close, but his expression made you frown.
The cold air hit his cheeks, he realised he hadn’t picked up his jacket. The alcohol was getting to his head, the inky sky filled with stars was spinning above his head. He spotted an area with a few trees and a corner covered with grass. He aimed his feet in that direction, unstable, struggling to stay upright.
And you were still in there, with Frank, why fucking Frank, why him, why couldn’t you want…
“Andy?”
He turned around at the sound of your voice, almost falling in the process.
“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer, extending a hand to steady him if he needed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.
“Are you drunk?”
“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.
“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”
But the image of Frank leaning closer, reaching for your waist flashed before his eyes. He clenched his jaw, opening and closing his fists repeatedly, not knowing what to do now with his own body, with his too-long limbs, with the knowledge that you too wanted Frank and not him. And Andrew hated that guy for taking everything he wanted away. For making Samantha leave him. For taking the life he thought he was going to build with her. But most importantly, for taking you away, even now… Andrew hated your ex for hurting you, for breaking your heart, and for being unable to let you go, for dragging you along with him, for keeping you dependent when he had someone else, and of course… of bloody course, Andrew had to fall for you, when you loved Frank.
What could you see in a guy like him? What did Andrew lack that made you unable to choose him instead of Frank?
He sat down in the grass, his brain swarming with thoughts that made him as dizzy as the liquor did.
“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.
You sat down beside him.
“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring. Andrew wanted to cry at the sound, to hide in your arms and let it all out… his rage against Samantha, his jealousy against Frank, his love for you…
“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” was his answer instead of yielding to his own wants and lean closer.
“You didn’t seem well.”
“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”
He saw you clenching your jaw, even if there wasn’t much light around the venue. The parking lot was close by, with a few lampposts there. The moon was high and bright though, and through the windows of the venue behind the two of you, light was pouring into the night. It made for a dim lighting, but just enough for him to distinguish your features.
“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.
That fucking asshole… Andrew was certain Frank had hurt you somehow, said something wrong…
“I saw you talking with Samantha… what did she say?” you asked, changing subject and aiming straight for the sensitive one without knowing.
It was Andrew’s turn to clench his jaw. He didn’t say anything.
“What did she say?”
He shrugged, but you insisted, and he ended up yielding.
“She cheated on me with Frank.”
Your eyes grew round, and there was wrath shining in them too.
“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, wanting to alleviate your pain and worry, but your expression didn’t change. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”
“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.
“Yeah, you can say that.”
“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.
“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”
You nodded but looked away.
“So… I’m losing my partner in crime for good?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice, revealing of some kind of ache.
“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”
He froze when you leaned closed, rested your head on his shoulder. He reached out without thinking, the alcohol making him bolder than he usually was, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in a tight hug. You remained like this for a couple of minutes, or perhaps a little longer than that, Andrew wasn’t sure. He was too drunk to notice the passing of time, he felt too warm holding you in his arms…
“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.
And he wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he had for some time now. That he didn’t want Samantha anymore, only you. That he dreamt of you in his bedsheets, dreamt of what you would look like under him, dreamt of kissing your eyelashes. That he wanted to hold your hand, that he looked at you sometimes when you worked, in your shared office, because he just couldn’t help it. That you were beautiful, that he thought about you all the time, that he couldn’t eat at the thought of spending a moment with you. That he wanted to kiss you now, and forget about your exes, and take you on a nice date, whatever you would like.
He wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t.
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nevermorefanfics · 8 months ago
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Burning Hearts pt.3
Moodboard Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4
Word count: 1345
Summary: A dramatic High Lord/Lady meeting and a confrontational conversation between you and the Night Court.
⚠️Warnings: Drama lol, some against, a little fluff, makeouting, swearing, mentions to cheating, mentions about sex.
An: Well this part is filled with drama and if you've wondered about yn powers well this is your part...
“Hello big brother” You said as the Night Court arrived into the meeting room. Rhysand and a very pregnant Fayre, stood with shocked expressions, meaning that they’d overheard the conversation that you’d just had. Behind them you could see Cassian's broad frame tower and next to him, next to him was Azriel. Morrigan, Amren and Nesta seemed to stand behind them trying to get a good look at the drama unfolding right before them. But with Amren's height it was a miracle that I even could make out the top of her head.The look on his face was just plain sadness and envy, envy as he stared at the many parts where yours and Eris's bodies met. Shadows started to flood the floor as the cavalry from your home court stepped out of the large entrance to the room.
“Y/n/n please tell me that it's all a joke, you can't be Autumn's High Lady!” Rhysand asked you pleadingly.
“So what if I am? Let me get this clear. I am never ever going back to the Night Court. Not after what you all did, what you did.” You said looking accusingly at Azriel.
“Sweetheart I never meant to hurt you, Elain just needed some distraction but you are the one I love, you're my mate!” Azriel told me as he stepped forward and in the same moment Eris's hand flew out to stop him.
“If you take one more step towards her I will burn you to death.” Eris murmured to him, marking every word. “She's my mate! Not yours, she belongs with me! Elain was just a dumb mistake!” Azriel screamed at Eris as Rhysand held him back. “I stopped being yours the moment you cheated on me, and don't you dare to lay all this on Elain. She wasn't in a good phase back then, and we all know it.” You told Azriel. Behind you Helion coughed, symbolizing that the others had arrived. As you turned your back you felt someones hand on your arm, Nesta. The two of you had grown closer after the war. You would often sit in the library together, just reading.
“I'm so, so sorry Y/n. I shouldn’t-” She whispered to you. “Don't, you didn't have anything to do with it. If anything you really helped me, if you someday want a place to just run away to for a while you'll always be welcome in my court.” You told her warmly.
Once you and Eris had gotten seated you could feel the gazes the other High Lords threw at you. And you got it, you’d been your brother's right hand and now, now you were Autumn's High Lady, and everyone knew that the Autumn court and the Night Court didn't have the best relationship…
“So how's Autumn doing now that Beron’s gone? Are your people happy with their new High Lady?” Tarquin asked Eris. “Quite well. My father definitely wasn't the best of High Lords so there's much to do and many things to change but I'm lucky Y/N has been of great help and our people love her, but I mean who wouldn’t. We're currently very open to allies” Eris calmly answered the young High Lord. “Why would we trust you? Like father, like son.” Taunted Rhysand.
“Eris is nothing like Beron and the fact you suggest otherwise when I, your own sister, is married to him, really fucking shows how low you think of me, and of him. Eris is by far the best male I have ever met.” You told Rhysand, quickly erasing that smug smile off his face. You could feel Eris's affectionate stare resting at your face and you placed your hand in his and he firmly held on, almost like he thought you would disappear if he let go of you.
When the meeting was over you and Eris got shown to your quarters, a beautiful ensemble of rooms with marble floors and large windows. Eris quickly sat down at the couch dragging you down in his lap.
“Thank you, thank you for standing up for me.” He mumbled between the sweet kisses he pressed to your neck.
“Always, Eris, Always.” You gasped.
Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted the two of you.
“I'm going to kill whoever's behind that door. ” Eris murmured, his hair a mess. You chuckled quickly and said: “It might be a possible ally so I suggest that you don't.” Eris just rolled his eyes but a large smile was plastered on his face. “One minute just let me-” You said, fixing Eris's hair. “Thanks love!” he said sweetly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Then he opened the door to reveal… Tarquin.
“I hope I'm not bothering you but I would like to discuss an alliance between our courts.” He told the two of you. You and Eris exchanged a surprised look, Tarquin had been a proud ally of Rhysand since the war against Hybern. “Come on in.” You said nicely. The three of you sat down at a low table. You quickly noticed that the rest of the Summer Court was missing.
“Your visions for your court align with mine on a level no other court does. We have been taking in emigrants from the Spring Court for a while and I'm guessing that you have done the same.” He paused and you nodded in agreement. “I want to create a place for them where before we have established them, they can live and be with friends and family. Would the two of you be interested in this?” he asked you.
“Definitely.” Eris said.
The rest of the evening went on smoothly for you and Eris. After Tarquin left you were visited by the Day Court and the Winter court, both interested in an alliance. When you and Eris went to bed smiles were painting your faces and you fell asleep in his arms.
__________________________________
You woke up quite early and decided to go down to the dining room, getting breakfast. You had left a note to Eris, in case you got stuck talking to someone. When you walked into the room you could see the whole Night Court sitting and talking to each other. Aside from them the room was completely empty. Suddenly you felt someone's arms around you, Morrigan. You quickly pushed her away, starting to walk out when you saw two males get in the way, cowering at the entrance.
“Y/n we need to talk.” Rhysand said. “Please just let us explain.” Cassian begged you. The pleading in his eyes was the only thing that made you stay. Cass was like a brother to you. “Fine. What do you want?” You asked them. “Your power, no one but me is able to keep them in shack.” Rhysand said “You need us and we need you.” A scoff unleashed from you. “So this is what it's all about, you want my powers under your control. Well guess what, no. I don't need you. My powers work perfectly without you and your help. I was blessed by the Mother herself. I deserve them and I'm going to use them to help my court, The Autumn Court.” You said as you walked out of the room, going to one of the many balconies in the castle.
Starting out into the ocean made your thoughts wave over you. What are your powers really? You knew that you had Rhysand’s ability but you could also create things from nothing. You could heal people and under the war against Hybern you had felt the cauldron. That was when you realized it. Why you didn't look like your brother at all with your long white hair And clear blue eyes. And why you weren't born with wings like him. Maybe the Mother herself sent down the explanation because you sure as hell wouldn't have realized it without help. You weren't his sister at all. No you weren't even your parents real daughter. You were created by the Mother. You were the Daughter…
Author's note: hehe
Taglist: @queerqueenlynn @se7enteen--black-blog @@mybestfriendmademe @cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree
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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year ago
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Just a Little Bit Of Your Heart pt. III
ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 3,1k  warnings: talk about childhood trauma, birth summary: the day has come..... fic masterlist
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She is so small. So fragile. But so full of life and joy. And she is so strong.
Around him time stands still. There is just Azriel and the tiny little babe. She is so much smaller than he ever imagined a baby to be, so much smaller than a normal child at birth is. So much smaller than Nyx was.
She is wrapped in a soft, pink blanket that seems far too large for her fragile figure. Her skin is nearly translucent and her eyes are tightly shut. And Gods, there is her tiny little nose, and the little pouted mouth. She got that from you, Azriel is sure about that. 
He can't look away, eyes trailing over the little life in his arms. And Cauldron! His arms, his hands, his whole body seems too big to be holding such a tiny, little, fragile being. He is scared he might crush her if he makes one wrong move.
And then there are her wings, peeking out from behind the blanket, folded in brhind her small frame. 
She is beautiful, just like her mother. The biggest tiny wonder he has ever seen in his entire life.
The shadowsinger feels an overwhelming sense of responsibility and vulnerability. He is a father now. This tiny being is truly his child — your child. She depends on you, on him, will need him, and he will protect her with his whole life. Until his last day.
With absolute care, she is lying on Azriel's bare chest, skin to skin, the warmth of his body providing her with comfort and love. He can feel her heart beating against his.
A tiny little fighter, Azriel thinks, who wanted to see the world and would let nothing stop her. 
A fine dusting of raven hair covers her small head and and Azriel lets his finger, which seems huge compared to her tiny hands, dance over her head. It is so soft, and a tear slips out of his eye.
Her breaths are shallow, like delicate whispers and Azriel finds himself marvelling at the miracle in his arms. This is his daughter! His flesh and blood. He created this wonder. With you. 
Tears fill his eyes as he looks down at the baby cradled against him. His emotions just like the tears pour out of him, and he starts to cry. 
No tears of sadness, but of sheer happiness over the life in his hands.
He doesn't know about your state yet, does not know how you are doing. Madja had only told him that the birth went well, but you lost a lot of blood. He hasn’t been allowed inside yet, and so Azriel and the little baby are alone, waiting for you.
But still he allows himself to be happy in this moment. He holds onto the kernel of hope taking root in his chest. The kernel of hope that tells him you are fine. That you will meet your little baby. 
He can't wait to introduce her to you, see the look on your face when he tells you that your baby is a girl. And that she is fit and alive. 
His burning tears fall onto the baby's head. He has never felt like this before. Not once in his life. He feels an enormous amount of responsibility and so do his shadows, swirling around him, gently brushing over the little baby's head, and her tiny hands. 
"Keep her safe," Azriel whispers to them. "Protect her, like you protected me." They listen to his command, gently resting atop her, stroking her skin. 
Azriel never wants to look away from her again. She's so small, so incredibly small. He can't help but compare her to the size of his scarred hand which looks ginormous next to her (not to mention what it looks like next to her tiny hand).
He knows there will come a day where he has to explain the scars to her, and he will do so. He will tell her everything, and most importantly protect her from everything. Nothing will ever happen to her. She will have the best childhood any child could ever hope for. He will be the kind of father he has never had, the kind of father every child deserves.
His heart aches with the desire to protect her from all harm, to shield her from the brutality and harshness of life. And he knows that until his last breath he will do so, keeping her safe forever. 
And not only her. Also you. He will be the best…male for you. The kind of male you deserve. There is a future, a bright one, for the two of you, he knows this. It is no lie that he loves you, and that not only because you now have a child together. 
He loves you and has loved you since the first night you've been intimate. He's just never thought about the possibility of meeting you again. But he had always had hope. For no other reason had he followed the beckons to meet him. The letter had arrived and his heart had started to flutter, his chest warmed and something had tugged at his ribcage. 
You created life that night, but you also lay the foundation for a future. A future together. 
Azriel's gaze returns to the tiny bundle in his arms. He becomes acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat, every tiny movement of her body. He feels the rise and fall of her chest against his.
Azriel can't wait to sing her to sleep — every night if needed, you cuddled to his chest as well. 
Sometimes the little bundle mewls a little, but Azriel is quick to sway her the slightest bit and everything is fine again. It is almost like she hums when he traces the tip of his finger over her chubby cheek, and her forehead. She still looks a little crumbled, but that will fade. 
Time slips away, and he's not sure how long they stay like this. Minutes, hours, days, it doesn't matter in this very moment he shares with his daughter. His first time holding her.
He had always been so afraid to hold a child. Never seen himself worthy of it. Always thought he was too big, a brute, to hold a little baby. But now that she is here in his arms, it feels so right. He is still netvous and a little scared, but somehow with every breath she takes, she eases his tension.
The shadowsinger is acutely aware of the baby's every movement, her every breath, and little noise. But then…it seems like her tiny mouth searches for food, parting and quivering and then she starts to cry. He doesn't know what to do, has not been provided with a bottle or anything. He tries to sway her but it does not work and—
"Azriel." His head snaps up towards Madja and every ounce of happiness whooshes out of him. She is pale, her eyes a little empty, her clothing stained with deep red blood.
Panic sends an icy shiver throughout his whole body, the worst possible ideas filling his brain. It is only the baby's crying that fetches him back to reality. 
He wants to ask Madja for a bottle, but also about you. There is so much to ask, so many thoughts. It becomes overwhelming and Azriel is suddenly very happy he is sitting down, his head starting to feel dizzy. 
"She is awake."
The tears start to come anew, filling his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. He almost breaks down when he gets up, the only thing grounding him his little baby. "She is hungry," Azriel expresses, the only thing he can say in this moment of utter happiness. 
"Then she needs her mother to feed her," Madja smiles, exhaustion etched upon her features. "Come on, let her meet her baby." Madja takes Azriel by the elbow, knowing he needs this support right now, and guides him into the room where you are waiting for them. 
He is gently holding the tiny bundle in his arms when his eyes land on you. The little girl has calmed down, almost like she can sense something tremendous is about to happen — she is going to meet her mother now for the first time, and this might have calmed her. She is silent again, bubbling a little, but no longer crying. 
The faelights next to the bed cast a warm and comforting glow upon you. You look exhausted, worn, but there is smile on your face. It is a tired smile, but one full of love and happiness.
Azriel's heart races as he approaches the bed. 
"Hey you," he says softly, his voice a mix of tenderness and excitement. "We became parents to a beautiful and fit baby girl."
The smile on your lips widens, your eyes glowing brightly. "Everly," you whisper. "I want to call her Everly." You try to sit up a little, wanting to catch a glimpse of your baby girl.
How is she? What does she look like? What does she smell like? How tiny is she? 
There are so many questions and soon you will have all the answers. 
Azriel, his eyes aglow like golden strings are woven into the deep brown of chocolate, nods and smiles, nothing but relief and joy flooding his entire being. "It is a beautiful name."
The spymaster carefully climbs onto the bed with you, and kisses the top of your head. "You did it, Y/N. You are so strong, the same fighter as our little girl." Tears cloud his vision. 
He leans closer and meets your teary gaze. You draw in a deep inhale and extend a trembling hand towards the baby, your fingers brushing against the tiny fingers of your daughter, over her nose and her cheeks. "She's perfect," your whisper, your voice hoarse and your tears tasting salty on your lips. "And her tiny wings. They look like yours."
Your fingers brush over the tips of them, and you find yourself marvelling at the tiny wonder in Azriel's arms. She is truly perfect! A gift. A miracle. 
"Do you want to hold her?"
"Yes," you answer, wanting nothing more than to hold the little bundle in your arms, feel her little heart beat and smell her. Warmth fills your chest, just like an enormous amount of bliss. 
You meet his gaze and reach your hands out. 
Azriel carefully places the baby your arms, as gently as possible, ensuring the little one is always secure. Your eyes once again fill with tears as you gaze down at…Everly.
It is the name you have chosen a long time ago. If it was a girl, you wanted to name her Everly. It is perfect. 
Your fingers tremble as you brush over the dusting dark hair on her small head. "She is so tiny," you whisper and meet Azriel's gaze. 
He nods. "Only 800 gramme." 
Oh Gods! "She is practically nothing." Your dry lips part and for a moment you turn to look at Azriel, his eyes trained on your baby girl. 
"So fragile, I am scared I will break her."
"You won't," you assure him. He lifts his scarred hand and lets it rest beside her head, softly caressing her chubby cheek with his index finger.
You stay like this for a moment- minutes, hours, days, it doesn’t matter. The three of you are together and nothing else matters.
Until, Everly once again starts mewling, her lips bubbling and then a grimace spreads all over her face. 
You ask Azriel to get Madja, she has not yet explained so much about how breast feeding works. She comes to help you, helps you put Everly to your breast, and the little baby quickly suckles happily, the sweetest baby noises leaving her. 
Azriel watches the two of you in awe, leans in and rests his cheek against your shoulder, his hand moving over Everly, resting on her body. Everly, having wiggled one arm free, wastes no second before curling her tiny little fingers around Azriel's index finger, her fingers barely reaching around. 
A tear slips out of the corner of Azriel's eye and he swallows thickly, fighting against the dryness in his throat. He turns his head and presses a soft kiss to your warm and clammy skin. 
"Are you scared, Y/N?" The question catches you off guard and startles you. 
Your forehead furrows and you shake your head. "About what exactly?"
"How we will—No—" He cuts himself off and finally lifts his gaze to you. "How I will do as a father."
"You will be a great father," you say and mean it. Your expression is sincere — you want him to see the honesty in your statement. Want him to see that he will be a great father.
Silence falls over you for a moment. But then Azriel draws in a deep, ragged breath. "I'm scared," he confesses, his expression clouded with the shadows of the past — of his own upbringing.
You focus on his eyes, concern etched on your features.
He sighs, his gaze dropping to the tiny fingers curled around his. "I'm so scared that I'll become a bad father. Like mine was. What if I turn into him?"
Your heart clenches, and you slide your hand over his, holding it tightly. "You won't be like him. You will be a great father."
He eventually meets your gaze, the weight of his past flashing in his eyes. "I will try my best to not be like him…my childhood…it was awful."
He meets your eyes, the weight of his past haunting the depths of his gaze. "I hope so. But my childhood… it was awful."
You stay quiet, encouraging him to open up about the feelings he has kept locked away behind iron bars in his mind for centuries.
"My stepbrothers," he begins, his voice shaky, "they treated me miserably. I was the outsider, the one who didn't belong. They made me feel like I was a burden, a mistake, the worst person in their life."
Your heart aches for the young boy he once was, trying to survive in a world that wasn't very kind to him. "That is awful," you whisper to him.
"You probably wondered how I got…these wounds." He swallows thickly. "They burned them. My father did nothing, only punished me again and again."
Your heart clenches, the pain so strong and poignant it makes you feel nauseas. You squeeze his hand tighter, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. 
"But I don't want to talk about it now. We can talk about it another time." Azriel looks at your daughter, his eyes shimmering with tears. "I want to be better for her. I want her to have a father who loves her unconditionally, who protects her from the world. I want to be the kind of father I've never had."
Tears well up in your eyes as you lean in to kiss his forehead. "And you will be. You will be the best father she could ever hope for. The best father I could have ever dreamed of for my little baby."
He manages a small smile, but his heart continues to feel heavy. "I want her to have all the love she deserves. I want her to feel nothing but happiness."
You nod. "She will get all the love she deserves. We'll surround her with love. She will be so happy, and we will be a great family for her."
He takes a deep breath, his fingers tracing patterns on the baby's blanket. "I want to believe that. I want to be the father she deserves."
"You already are," you insist, your voice unwavering. "Look at her. She's so lucky to have you as her father."
He glances at the sleeping babe, a mixture of awe and trepidation in his eyes. "I never knew I could love someone so much."
A tender smile graces your lips. "I'm very grateful to have you, Azriel. I'm very grateful how everything turned out. How the thing between us…turned out." You swallow and lean your head against his. "I'm…I am so happy we are a family now. That you didn't leave me alone to deal with everything."
"I'm grateful that you allowed me to be part of this journey and that it won't end here. That we will have a future together." He kisses the top of your head and Everly finally stops suckling. You lift her up and let her burp and just a second later she drifts into a peaceful slumber, head resting against your chest. Azriel helps you button up your shirt again and then lies down in bed with you. 
You hold your daughter more gently, adjusting your embrace and silence falls over the room. But only for a moment. 
Azriel leans in, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. "Remember when you asked me for just a little bit of my heart?"
You nod, index finger tracing an idle circle about the tiny baby's head. 
"You have all of it." Azriel smiles, and a single tear rolls down his cheek. "You and Everly have my whole heart. I love you," he murmurs. He wiggles one arm free and curls it around your shoulders, holding you tightly. You relish in the warmth of his body, how solid his chest is and how protected you feel in his arms, in his hold. 
Your own cheeks are wet with tears and your chest trembles a little. "I love you. And you have my whole heart as well."
A small sob leaves Azriel, his heart swelling with love and pride. "She has your strength," he says. "I can see it. She is just as strong as you are and will turn into the same amazing female as her mother."
The shadowsinger sniffs. Joy glistens in your eyes. "I can't believe she's finally here. I love her so much, our sweet, little girl. Can you believe she is actually here? In our arms?"
"It is somehow unbelievable…" Azriel sniffs again. "That we created such a beautiful life. That this little wonder is truly our daughter."
Together, you admire your baby, hearts bursting with love and gratitude. You will never be able to thank the Mother enough for the small miracle (actually the large miracle) in your arms. 
And somehow…it has all been fate. You and Azriel have probably also been meant to become parents to this little girl. It was destiny. It had to happen exactly like this. 
In that quiet room, the world outside fades into insignificance. 
As you drift off to sleep, Azriel never stops stroking your arm, his scarred fingers moving up and down, up and down, his other hand placed on the little baby. His shadows accompany him, following the motions of his hand, stroking the baby's head gently and massaging your shoulders, easing the tension from the birth.
"You are my happiness. You are my home," Azriel whispers into the silence of the room. "And my heart is all yours."
tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire
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