#let me take another crack at it i'm wiser now

[dragonomatopoeia]

i am normal and spoke a normal amount about folklore and religious syncretism and esoterica while recording our dating sim podcast. and only mentioned flying phalluses thrice

[tulip-room]

"You're late" "I know...I'm sorry."

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Words: 3k

Content: Sakusa falls out of love with you. You realize it too no matter how much he would like to pretend you don't. Eventually he realizes he was just scared. Hopefully he isn't too late.

a/n: I wrote this because my lovely mutual @hiraethwa asked me for it. I of course had to take the chance to write angst. As you can see I didn't stop myself and it's a bit longer than my stories usually are. I hope you guys enjoy it!

It’s almost poetic that the things that made you fall in love with someone are the same reasons you fall out of love with them. Their passion for their job turns into fights about not making time for each other. Their cleanliness turns into fights about how you don’t do the dishes properly. Them speaking their mind turns into hurtful words that neither can take back. Things that with the right communication wouldn’t be so bad. But that was another bad habit the two of you had.

Not talking to each other after getting mad. You were always the one to “fix” it though. Putting a bandaid on a broken glass never gets rid of the crack though. 

Sakusa thinks these are the sorts of things that force him to take off his rose tinted glasses, ones that had turned muddy and foggy, and look at you. You leaving the dishes overnight in the sink because work was so exhausting now made him upset. He was exhausted when he got home but still managed to clean up after himself. You drooling in your sleep used to be cute but now all he can think of is how disgusting he feels. 

You disgust him. 

He used to let you lay up against him because your touch used to bring him comfort. Now it makes his skin crawl. 

You’re not blind. You can see the way he has started to recoil when he thinks you’re going to touch him. The walls of your home have started to lose their warmth. The blankets not holding in their warmth like they used to. You shiver even when the house is set to 80. Sakusa’s cold gaze makes icicles go down your back. The same brown eyes you used to love. The same eyes that used to look at you like you hung the stars. 

The hands that used to hold you now sit close to his body. The lips that used to kiss yours when he arrived home are gone. He thinks you don’t notice. He thinks that you can’t see how he forces himself to hold your hand in public. He doesn’t want his friends to see what he’s become.

A man who is no longer in love with you. You who used to be the light of his life. His friends aren’t stupid. He would like to think they are but they see what’s going on. They see as your skin turns paler. How your lips are always chapped and broken from biting on them. It’s at dinner that one of them notices the first petal. 

The forsaken petals. Komori wants to write it off as just a stray petal from outside that got caught in your hair. He knows better. And so do you. You know what’s going to happen to you. You’ve started wearing hats. 

It’s the petals that also spur on your next fight. 

“They’re everywhere! Where do they keep coming from?” Sakusa says as he picks up another flower petal that was sitting upon the couch. “You need to stop bringing them in here from wherever you’re getting them.” He never yells but his words hit just the same. It was your fault. It wasn’t his fault that he saw what you really were. Just someone who had managed to get him to fall in love with them. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Afterall, bandaids don’t fix breaks in glass, liquid still spills. 

Here was the result of using bandaids to fix things that are broken. Sakusa was still none the wiser of what was going on. You had gotten better at hiding the petals. You had begun placing them in bags. You almost had done something that would’ve been truly evil. You had almost labelled the bags “What is left of me” and left while he was at work. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave no matter how badly you needed to. You loved him. 

Love really is a fickle thing. Someone who you used to spend every minute with could become a stranger to you again in less than a week. Sakusa felt like a stranger with a familiar face. The man you loved no longer loved you. You weren’t entirely sure how much longer you had left. It could be days. It could be weeks. You just knew that eventually there wouldn't be a you to come back to. 

It seemed everyone but him had realized what was happening. Komori had enough of it. You still had your lunches, it was Komori who had introduced you two afterall. He was still your best friend. He still cared for you. He was sure Sakusa did too. “He just needs some sense knocked into him.” or “Give him another chance, I’ve never seen him love someone as much as he lov-loves you.” Komori had almost messed up during that sentence. He almost said ‘loved’. 

He couldn’t see his best friend destroy themselves like this anymore. That night he took Sakusa out for dinner. They were going to talk about it until Sakusa realized he did still love you. He was going to realize that you were still the love of his life. 

“What happened.”

“What?”

“What could they have possibly done to deserve what you’re doing to them?”

“Y/N?” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “What am I doing to them?” 

“They’re dying.” Simple and to the point. “They’re dying and it’s because of you.”

He scoffs. “What are you on about? They’re perfectly fine.”

“No. They’re not. They’re dying. Why don’t you love them anymore? Tell me why.” Komori looks at Sakusa in a serious way. He would answer this question. 

“I don’t know. They’re annoying. The things I used to find charming aren’t anymore. They never do the dishes, we’re always fighting and they try to ``fix” it-” he puts quotes around the world. “Taping up a broken window doesn’t mean it never broke.”

Komori shakes his head. “They annoy you? That’s what caused you to decide you don’t love them anymore? You realize it takes two people to break and fix a relationship.” Him saying that made Sakusa roll his eyes again. He looked out the window. He was starting to tune his cousin out. 

Sakusa wasn’t the problem here. It was that you were too demanding. You were too much. You always wanted more. Volleyball season started up again so he couldn’t have as many dates with you. He thought you would be used to it by now. You had been fine with it for the past few years. Why the sudden change now? He thinks back.

The first year of you two being together was perfect. The two of you had communicated what you needed and what you expected. The first time he had missed a date he had texted you not even five minutes later letting you know the situation and that he would try better next time. By the third week of this happening you had learned he wasn’t able to focus on two things at once. Or more accurately he couldn’t focus on you and volleyball. That was fine. You can’t expect to be the center of his universe all the time. He always abologized for the dates he did miss. Once volleyball season was over you found that he was all yours again. 

By year two you hoped it would be different. It wasn’t. Once again it started out fine. Text messages to let you know he wouldn’t be able to make it. You still weren’t upset enough to really fight about it yet though. He would bring you gifts the next day to apologize. A kiss and a sorry attached to whatever gadget he had gotten you. 

By year three the gifts made you angry. He had time to go out and get a gift but not enough time to show up for one date? He was tired, you would tell yourself. It’s not you, he’s just busy. Maybe you’re lazy. Maybe you’re the problem. Maybe he just didn’t want to be around someone as needy as you. Who would to be honest? This was the year you had finally brought it up to him. A mistake. 

“I can’t do this Kiyoomi.”

“Can’t do what?” “This. I know that volleyball is important to you but I want to feel important too.” You pleaded with him.

“You are. I’m here right now aren’t I? Let’s go on a date now.” He sighed and he turned off the TV and started getting up.

It was no use. He wasn’t going to understand. You still felt like an afterthought. You didn’t think it would ever change. What was the point of it all? Maybe you should just leave. Maybe then you could find someone who would make you feel like you were enough. 

This was also the year you downloaded a dating app. You couldn’t bring yourself to actually ever open it though. No matter how insignificant you felt you would never do this to him. You couldn’t live with yourself if you did this. 

The app was deleted almost as quickly as it had finished downloading. 

Maybe what he really needed was just more. More than you had. Someone who was able to understand his love for volleyball. That it was his love first and it would be his last as well. No matter. In a few more months he would be yours again. In a few more months he would act like nothing had ever happened. In a few more months he would apologize with gifts that made your stomach churn and with sweet words that left a bad taste in your mouth. 

Year four. This year. This was the year that he hadn’t come back to you. The year he hadn’t returned to being your sweet wonderful boyfriend. You had waited until after volleyball season to plan a date but he had gotten so used to not having them that he had forgotten. He had forgotten about dinner and he had forgotten about you. He hadn’t even come home that night. You were sure he hadn’t because the dishes were still in the sink. If he had come home he would have done them and then told you off. 

You waited for three hours before you got the notification. It was from one of his teammates. More specifically that they had posted to their story. You opened it and there he was. In the background drinking with the rest of them. He had left you to go drink. Something he doesn’t like to do. Something he obviously liked better than you. 

Your mother had called you the next day to ask if she should start wedding preparations. You didn’t have the heart to tell her your worries. You just laughed with her and told her to hold off for a little longer. You were sure it would be soon. That’s what you told her. 

Now you were dreading the message that she would have to make a different kind of preparation. A funeral. You didn’t understand how someone could do this. How he could go from caring and sweet to cold and distant so quickly. You didn’t know when you had started to feel numb instead of sad. How the cold eyes that would turn to you stopped making you shiver. 

You didn’t know when you had stopped crying. At some point the tears had stopped and your breathing stopped being labored. 

Maybe the change wasn’t as sudden as he originally thought. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed the change until it had already happened. How you stopped planning dates. How you stopped holding his hand as tight. Your eyes had changed. They were once so full of trust and love. Now they were dull. You still held love for him in your eyes, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just a joke. 

He needed to rethink everything now. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He thinks about everything. Why did he start loving you in the first place? 

He loved how you always surprised him. That you challenged him to be better. You didn’t let him off easy just because you liked him. Sure Komori was the one who introduced you but you were the one who chased him. It seems like you never stopped. Now he was even further away than he had started. 

Nothing more than a stranger who knew your secrets. A person you loved but had changed and not in a way that included you. He thought about why he had started dating you.

Because you were good for him. At some point he softened. He allowed room in his life for another person. One who could see his ups and downs. Because around you he felt safe. He felt loved and he discovered he wanted you to feel that way around him too. He wanted to provide you with safety. He wanted you to feel loved. He wanted you to feel like you were always enough for him. 

He shakes his head. Funny way of showing it. He had done nothing but put you off since that first year. You had been nothing but supportive. You had understood when he had to miss a date because of practice. Except he didn’t have to miss those dates. He chose to. Every time he missed one was of his own accord. He realized he hadn’t thought of it as important enough. He hadn’t thought of you as important enough. 

How could he have been this cruel? He didn’t think of himself as cruel before this moment. He hadn’t really thought about it. He thought it was for the best that he pushed you away until you finally left. He thought it would be too much work to break it off with you from the start. He knows now that you hadn’t gone away. He had. He was the one who had started every fight. The one who hadn’t communicated his feelings and had outright ignored yours. 

He thought about why he didn’t love you anymore. 

Because you left dishes in the sink? Was that the best he could come up with? He knew why he decided he didn’t love you anymore. Because you made him feel. You made him afraid. You made him feel so safe that he was in a constant state of waiting for it to end.

If he pushed you away first you couldn’t do the same to him. If he decided he didn’t love you anymore it wouldn’t hurt when you did finally leave. He was scared that you would leave. He didn’t love you because he was scared you would leave. Now that it’s laid out in front of him he sees how stupid he was. He still has one more realization though. 

You were dying. 

Those flower petals he had gotten mad about. They weren’t just flower petals. They were the cause of your death. And from the amount of them there had been a week ago, you didn’t have much time left. Suddenly he wasn’t so calm. How could he be? The person he loved was going to die. And it was his fault. You were going to die because you thought the same thing he had. That he didn’t love you anymore. 

He looked towards Komori with wide eyes. “I think I still love Y/N.” 

“You think?”

Sakusa takes a breath. “I’m in love with Y/N.”

“Go tell them that before you’re too late.” 

Sakusa gets up from the table and runs to get a taxi. 

You’re laying in your bed. Numb. You laugh bitterly. Right up until the end you loved him. You gave him all of you. How inconsiderate of you to leave such a mess for him to pick up. The same petals that he had just gotten upset over were the petals of the same flower he had gotten you for your first date. The same flowers that started your love were going to finish them. 

Sakusa was starting to get desperate. He didn’t deserve you anymore but he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to mend what he had broken if that’s what it took. You weren’t picking up your phone. “Come on. Pick up. Please, pick up.”

The phone was ringing beside you but you didn’t have the energy to reach it. You barely had the energy to keep your eyes open anymore.

Sakusa bursts through the door. His breath is uneven and rapid. He scans the room and sees you nowhere in sight. He looks down and follows the trail of flowers leading to your room. He felt like it was only your room as he rarely slept there anymore. He opens the door and races to your bedside. 

He grabs your hand and tries to catch his breath. “Y/N. Please. Open your eyes. I’m so sorry.”

Nothing. 

“Please. I love you. I know I don’t deserve to say that but I do. You deserve so much better than what I have given you. You deserve so much better than I can give you. But I love you. I’m sorry I was so blind before. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you because now I know what it feels like to not have you and it made me feel so empty. I know I’m being so selfish. I don’t deserve you. You. Beautiful you who lights up every room they’re in. You who loved me even though I only kept hurting you. Please Y/N. Open your eyes. I need you. I need you and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner.” He’s crying now. He doesn’t deserve to shed tears over you because he’s the reason you’re like this. But he does. He holds your hand and he  cries. 

“You’re late.” A dry, broken voice calls out. His head snaps up. There are those eyes you love so much. 

“I know…I’m sorry.”

“I can’t forgive you yet.”

“I know.”

“I hate you for what you did.” “I know.”

“But I still love you. Please. Just. Love me better this time?”

“I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that I love you. Even if you don’t fully forgive me for what I’ve done. I will love you and prove it to you everyday. I promise.”

taglist: @hiraethwa @sanaexus

masterlist

rules

[puckrph]

JENNY FROM THEBES SENTENCE STARTERS

taken from the 2023 album by the mountain goats

"remember at your peril."

"forget the ones you can."

"i left home feeling empty."

"they made a space for you."

"this world is sad and broken, gotta fix a crack or two."

"rest until you're rested."

"just when you think you've learned how to forget, you learn it's just the ones who haven't risen to the surface yet."

"this will be the last time i do this, i'm pretty sure."

"no one lasts for long in this profession, so they say."

"maybe i'll see you again someday."

"you can make out all the exits from a static position."

"i'm never gonna break my neck falling down stairs."

"you can light a cigarette against the cooktop if you need to."

"you're never gonna get by on three hours' sleep a night."

"you're never gonna get by on three hours' sleep a night, unless you absolutely have to. then you'll get by alright."

"you're gonna get a wrinkle on your forehead."

"you're gonna make a bargain with the bad guys."

"you're gonna make some choices you regret."

"there's no place to hide from the prophecy."

"there's only one way out."

"there's only one way out, no matter what you do."

"watch for the signs."

"you're gonna have to steal what you need."

"they're never gonna let you forget."

"but if all that's true, what about you?"

"i think i'm gonna take you in."

"i've always had to follow my instincts."

"usually, i'm out on my own."

"what happens if i take you home?"

"i'm headed for a season in exile, as the oracle predicted."

"according to reliable sources, in thirty days i'm getting evicted."

"i've seen ones like you before."

"i gave you an answer that i thought you'd buy."

"all of this will disappear in the twinkling of an eye."

"i can hear the timer ticking in my chest."

"what are you gonna do?"

"it's better if you have a plan."

"i saw the future in an oil slick, it told me what i need to know: leave a little stain behind you everywhere you go."

"i'm only slightly diminished, older but wiser."

"when you've got a big job to do, you notice how the moments drag."

"live in the present."

"relish the time before you have to leave it behind."

"i'm smarter but scared, now."

"wearing an exile's mark: one that's gonna glow in the dark."

"take all your worry and care, feed it to the big machine."

"once you commit to the turn, you're gonna have to follow through."

"it's the only thing you can do."

"what's become of us?"

"when the vision comes, i have no resistance."

"i used to get so scared."

"it wasn't in your nature, taking in strays."

"i clung to you for days."

"i'm strong now. that was all years back."

"it's somewhere in a wreckyard now. never see it again on this earth."

"let the scavengers proclaim how much it was worth."

"i figure something's gotta happen sometime."

"i wait all day for you."

"i can smell the threat of rain in the air."

"i can only try to understand."

"a small amount of pressure in the right place breaks the strongest link in the chain."

"i'm trying not to buckle under the strain."

"i'll take anything that the others won't."

"i can see the value where others don't."

"i'm striking a bargain with the imp in my brain."

"you're prepared to take another knock for the short game, but you can ask any veteran running back: eventually your joints complain."

"everyone deserves a little light in their hair."

"everybody needs to love and be loved."

"anything to help with the pain."

"you have to be headed somewhere."

"somebody comes bearing the standard just when you need to see it held high."

"i feel something bigger than me."

"a body floating in a water tower only has one way to go."

"never thought we'd see the day when you wiggled free, but you did long before we did."

"i didn't guess we'd ever come to dread that engine's roar."

"nobody will ever know for certain the names of all the secrets i've held back behind the curtain."

"aging motorcycles purr like cats when they draw near."

"i could barely make the frame out through my tears."

"nobody's ever gonna pour plaster in my tracks. my exit will be clean when i vanish from the scene."

"you won't find any thumbprints to dust your powder into."

"depends on the way the wind blows."

"kiss the people you hold dear and forget that i was ever here."

"if word should reach you from the field, be cool."

"make them beat it out of you if they want it."

"if they steer me wrong, i'm just gonna play along."

"let me go to no haven anyone would yearn for."

"let me go free."

"on the morning when i stop looking back, i'll be up to see the sunrise."

"may you emerge free and clear."

"may you do some good where you go."

"i'll carry what i need to carry and bury what i have to bury."

[rayraygo1267]

A Gabenath Fanfiction

Note: I haven’t written fanfiction in a while so this might be really cringe..and I’m a horrible editor so I sincerely apologize for any grammatical errors.

Also I wanna give a shout-out to a friend of mine who helped me brainstorm for this piece. They didn’t want me to share any of their information but they deserve the credit :)

Rated: T

Summary: After a not so helpful conversation with Nino, Adrien is at a loss on how to go about having his first kiss with Marinette. With Nino out of the equation, Adrien decides he’ll go to the next best thing, his parents. While trying to pry for information from both Gabriel and Nathalie, Adrien may come to find out an interesting secret that lays in their past.

Title: Just a Peck on the Lips

"Dude! How have you two not kissed yet?"

Adrien sighed, his cheeks warming.

"I mean...I want to and I think Marinette wants to, but I don't know..."

Nino grinned, nudging Adrien's arm.

"What is there to not know? You just take her out on a nice date and do whatever it is you two do, and then at the end just when the moment is right you kiss her."

Well that was easy for Nino to say, him and Ayla have been together for months now. They've surely kissed countless times.

"But how do I know when the moment is just right?" Adrien murmured more to himself rather than to Nino.

Nino placed a finger to his chin contemplating.

"I don't know dude. You just...know."

Again he said it as if it was so easy.

"Right." Adrien agreed not wanting to touch on the subject matter any longer. He waved goodbye to Nino, who seemed to be none the wiser to his distress.

Adrien knew he had to get home soon or he'd be late for his Chinese lesson.  However, despite trying to get his mind to focus on more pressing issues, he couldn't stop thinking about Marinette and what a kiss with her would be like. The only thing he couldn't seem to figure out was when he was going to kiss her. Should he ask for her permission first or should he just go for it?

As he made his way up to his room, Nino's words began to echo in his ears.

You just know...

"Father." Adrien called, knocking gently three times on the double doors of his father's office. He could hear his father walking about in there muttering about designs and pattern choices to himself.

"Father!" He called again. He heard as the older man let out a deep sigh and an aggravated grunt.

"What is it, Adrien?"

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Another grunt.

"Can it wait? I'm very busy."

Adrien sighed, his heart sinking.

"Never mind..."

Adrien blew out a breath. He hadn't expected anything more. Really, what could one expect from someone like Gabriel Agreste?

Luckily after fourteen years of dealing with Gabriel, he knew all the ways to get under his skin. After a few moments of watching him through the door crack, his breath coming out in puffs, Gabriel let out a sigh that honestly sounded more like a snarl.

“Fine Adrien. I'll give you five minutes, five minutes and that’s it.”

Five minutes was all Adrien needed.

“Why are you asking me this?”

Out of all the things that could’ve come out of his father’s mouth, Adrien had not been expecting this. Did he really want to tell his father about Marinette? Would his father even care? Would he care too much?

“I…well there’s this girl—“

His father immediately waved him away, brows furrowing in revulsion.

“Adrien,” he began, his tone as stern as ever, “I don’t want to hear any more of this girl and details on what has happened in my life is most certainly none of your concern.”

“But Father!” Adrien cried frantically, though it came out more whiny than he had intended it to. To make matters worse, his father was already standing up, ready to turn on his heel and act as if this conversation never happened.

Out of desperation for his only chance of finding out how to court Marinette, Adrien bolted forward pawing at the fabric of his father’s shirt.

“Father please!” He wailed. Surprisingly, Gabriel didn’t make any moves to go away, stopping in his tracks completely. Was he actually bothering to listen to what Adrien had to say?

Before he lost his nerve, Adrien went on, “I barely know anything about your past and I just want to get closer to you…I…aren’t son’s supposed to come to their father’s to talk about things like this?”

Adrien felt his father stiffen and watched with bolstering anticipation as the older Agreste turned to face him.

Gabriel huffed, his expression sour, “if you must know...it was at a college party back in my days at Sorbonne.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. He had not been expecting that. His father’s first kiss was at a college party. Huh.

His father did not say anything more and Adrien didn’t get the chance to pry due to an office door being slammed in his face, but this was a start…even if he didn’t get any actual advice at least he got to know a little something more about his dear old dad.

So yes, even though he was elated with his results, he knew due to his father's lack of communication skills that he'd have to resort to a far more promising resource.

Nathalie.

                    

He found Nathalie at her usual spot in the desk to the side of the entryway. She had a look of deep concentration, her eyes scanning over her tablet. As he approached, he saw as her focus broke, her gaze diverting up to his.

"Hey Nathalie," Adrien said, his voice wavering. Was it obvious what his intentions were? Nathalie was smart, he wouldn't put it past her to have somehow already figured out his dilemma, but perhaps that meant she had a solution.

Nathalie pulled her glasses up, setting her tablet to the side.

"Do you need something Adrien?"  

"So..." he trailed off, wringing his figures together.

She made a ticking motion with her hands, obviously aggravated by being distracted from her work. Adrien felt his cheeks heat up as all his questions hung on the tip of his tongue.

"Well I want to kiss Marinette but I don't know how. I don't know if she's ready or if I'm ready and I..." he paused his rampage coming to a halt. Nathalie hadn't even flinched as she looked at him expectantly to continue. Even without her judgment, he felt his embarrassment coming to full front.

"Do you...have any tips?"

Nathalie blinked and sighed, her demeanor seemingly uncomfortable.

“Tips?” She questioned.

“Yeah like how should I go about it and all that? I mean I’m sure you have experience—“

Nathalie cringed, nose wrinkling, “Adrien,” she started, “maybe this is a conversation you'd prefer to have with your father—"

"I already tried that!"

Nathalie startled, taken aback. Adrien flushed even more and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Look, you don't even have to give me tips, just tell me what your first kiss was like."

Nathalie's eyes widened, her mouth parting.

"Excuse me?”

"Your first kiss, what was it like?"

Well..." she hesitated, she’d normally shut Adrien down but it sounded like she was his last resort anyway, might as well give him something.

“It was very quick and unexpected, more like a peck on the lips."

Adrien frowned, "but aren't first kisses supposed to be special? What made yours so chaste?"

Nathalie made a face, biting her lip in contemplation. After a moment she replied, “He was already interested in somebody else.”

The room suddenly became rigid. Guilt lanced through Adrien’s chest. He shouldn’t have been so nosy. Nathalie’s past was her business and he shouldn’t have pried.

“Oh…I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be. Really, it was just a game of spin the bottle at a college party back in my days at Sorbonne."

Adrien quirked a brow, his curiosity returning with a vengeance as the gears in his brain began to churn.

“Didn't Dad go to Sorbonne too?"

Nathalie looked brought up short, her lips pursing, "well yes but—"

There was an audible click as the conclusion formed itself in his mind.

His father's first kiss was at a college party, Sorbonne which also happened to be where Nathalie attended as well, not only that but the timings would line up too because Nathalie and his father had met at the beginning of their second semester of college and in just a few short weeks his mother came along for the ride joining the complementary duo. They were their own little tight-knit group, they were all each other had. 

The three of them even had their graduation photos taken together, grad caps, diplomas and all. Adrien had a personal copy of said graduation photo in his room. It had been his mother’s but since her disappearance, he felt the compulsion to hold onto it as a personal keepsake.

Now as he watched Nathalie, his mind clicking as what felt like all the missing pieces fell into place, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Nathalie..." he began cheekily, "was your first kiss my father?"

Nathalie coughed though it came out more as a gag.

"I-I hardly see why that is relevant!" She stuttered, her cheeks burning with a bright hue of color. Adrien gasped, his shock palpable.

"Oh my god! It totally was!" He squealed. Nathalie stiffened, her fists clenched,

"Adrien—"

"Dad!" Adrien hollered, turning on his heel and bolting down to his father's office.

"Adrien!" Nathalie jumped to her feet, practically leaping over her desk, determined to catch the young boy.

"Adrien Agreste! Do not bother your father with such trivial things!" She cried. With the resounding click of her stilettos she sped up the marble stairs. She could hear what she would normally consider Adrien's bubbly, cheerful laughter as he called out for his father.

Her fingers twitched just as she yanked Adrien by the shoulder, pulling him backward. She could feel her heart pumping at a fast plateau against her chest at the sound of rummaging and angry footsteps coming from behind Gabriel’s office door.

Her knuckles were white, her grip like a claw on Adrien’s shoulder. Both of them knew what was coming next and only one of them seemed pleased by it, if Adrien’s smug smile was anything to go by.

In the next moment a very much agitated Gabriel Agreste flung open the door.

"Adrien!" He bellowed, his eyes bulging, “what is the meaning of all this ruckus?"

Without missing a beat the young Agreste piped up, “was Nathalie—"

"Sir, I can explain!" Nathalie interjected, her stomach falling to the floor with what almost felt like an audible slush. Gabriel tsked waving his hand in annoyance and to both Nathalie and Adrien's surprise, he seemed to have turned his focus to his son.

In that moment Nathalie could see the likes of her career flashing before her eyes just as Adrien spoke his next words, "was Nathalie your first kiss?"

Nathalie’s insides crumbled.

Gabriel's eyes widened, his mouth falling into a perfect o. If she was being honest with herself, Nathalie was pretty sure she'd never seen her boss at such a loss for words in her entire life. After a few moments of what can only be described as deafeningly tense silence, Gabriel muttered, "yes but I don't see how that's relevant or any of your business—"

"Exactly as I said sir!" Nathalie butted in. She could put up with a lot of things but she would not be humiliated in front of her boss.

The room was stiff, the air practically being engulfed by the tension. While certainly not his current objective, Adrien did consider today's events to result in him learning a valuable lesson. Perhaps it was best to just stick with his friend's advice from now on.

Now as he stood there. looking between his father and Nathalie, their eyes locked as they held a silent conversation, he knew that that was his cue.

"Well," he said slyly, "it looks like you two have a lot to talk about." And with that he turned on his heel and left the two adults to question nothing but themselves.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you guys liked it! I did a lot of revising before I posted this so hopefully it came out in something that wasn’t a complete incoherent mess. Also I was wondering would you guys want me to write a prequel to this, like where I go into full detail about how Gabriel and Nathalie’s first kiss really went down, almost like a flashback sorta thing? If y’all have any other gabenath fanfic ideas or prompts please send them my way! I’ll take any requests!

[vegalores]

@timeguardians continued from xo

The  soft,  powder  blue  of  his  eyes  search  her  own  for  some  kind  of  indication  that  she  really  wishes  to  never  see  him  again.  There  seems  to  be  a  fairly  steadfast  hold  on  her,  keeping  her  just  out  of  reach,  which  attracts  a  rage  deep  within.  It  shows  through  the  piercing  shade  of  his  eyes,  as  they  grow  more  sharp,  more  vibrant  with  frustration.

Inwardly,  he  retreats  for  a  moment,  weighing  his  options  because  he  doesn't  wish  to  force  her  hand,  much  as  he  might  have  fallen  completely  and  irrationally  in  love  with  her,  in  the  short  time  they  had  known  one  another.  Jack  lifts  his  gaze  to  meet  hers  in  a  last  bid  to  change  her  mind.  Her  remains  silent,  but  the  expression  upon  his  face  is  every  emotion  and  every  heartache  that  he  has  ever  experienced  in  his  life.

He  doesn't  want  them  to  end  up  in  the  same  position  that  he  had  witnessed  many  a  folk  stumble  into  throughout  their  lives.  The  differences  between  them  both  seemed  to  sway  her  thoughts  and  feelings  far  too  easily  and  the  fact  alone  that  she  allowed  it  to  be  that  way,  to  not  fight  against  the  current  of  what  society  deemed  normal,  made  him  feel  insignificant  and  in  a  way,  secondary  to  whatever  else  she  had  going  on.

Jack  knew  her  conflict  ate  away  at  her  even  in  the  best  of  times  and  right  now  he  was  able  to  see  it  clear  as  day  upon  her  face,  though  she  tried  desperately  to  hide  it  deep  within  the  shadows  of  her  heart.  No  matter  what  he  had  done  up  until  this  point,  she  was  still  reluctant  to  simply  take  his  hand  and  leave  her  world  behind.

He  isn't  going  to  leave  this  alone,  no  matter  the  rejection  he  may  feel  with  every  hurt  word  that  passes  over  her  lips;  he  knows  that  is  the  sole  reason  for  her  denial.  There's  something  very  familiar  about  how  she  handles  unccomfortable  situations  like  this.  It  takes  him  no  time  at  all  to  realise  she  is  speaking  to  him  with  a  wounded  heart  and  it  eats  away  at  him  with  every  second  that  goes  by.

"  No,  "  he  simply  tells  her,  eyes  boring  into  her  own  once  more  as  his  grip  remains  to  hold  her  jaw  in  place,  so  her  own  eyes  cannot  leave  his  own  even  as  she  sends  a  look  elsewhere  in  the  room.  She's  fighting  her  demons  as  they  stand  there  and  he  would  be  a  fool  to  walk  away  now  as  he's  far  too  involved.  "  You're  not  shutting  me  out,  Rose.  I  won't  let  you,  "  he  adds,  his  own  jaw  tensing  as  he  says  this.

He  steps  a  little  closer,  somewhat  crowding  her  personal  space  but  finding  that  he  very  much  does  not  care  for  formalities  anymore.  His  heart  has  been  swept  away  by  both  her  ethereal  beauty  and  the  conversations  they  had  shared.  She  was  a  lot  wiser,  a  lot  stronger,  than  she  would  ever  believe,  but  he  wanted  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  making  sure  she  knew  this  about  herself,  no  matter  what  it  took.

Right  now,  he  could  see  the  torment  of  several  fires  burning,  conflict  engaging  all  of  her  senses  as  she  resembled  someone  completely  damaged.  He  wanted  to  be  a  beacon  for  her,  calling  her  back  to  shore  and  providing  the  strength  she  needed.

"  I'm  never  going  to  let  you  go,  Rose,  "  he  says,  closing  the  space  between  them  if  only  a  little,  not  quite  cracking  through  the  barrier  she  had  put  up,  but  close  enough  to  her  now  that  she  couldn't  possibly  deny  him  his  devotion.

[marythegizka]

Find the Words

Search your works for the given words and post the context of what you find!

Tagged by @mxanigel to find the words hope, smile, choice, and settle. (Thanks for the tag!)

Tagging (if you'd like to play) @deedeemactir, @hinterlost, @dairine-bonnet, @illusivesoul, and anyone else who sees this and wants to give it a shot! Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find the words rise, pride, relief, and hold.

Hope (From So Long as the Music Plays We Dance)

“It's a display of support," she finally said. "I'm hardly in a position to refuse.”

Loghain stopped.

“Shouldn't Fontaine be handling this?”

“Fontaine is not here.”

“Then wait until she comes back.”

“I can't do that. It could be months! Empress Celene would take offence.”

She couldn't help but notice how Loghain bristled slightly at the name. Old habits died hard.

“Then let her take offence. She benefits from this far more than we do. Show the Wardens are on her side and hope Gaspard gets the hint. Her inviting you to this... ball of hers is hardly disinterested. Celene is a politician, first and foremost. An Orlesian politician, to boot. She's not to be trusted.”

“No, she's not. That doesn't mean I'm walking into the lion's den.”

Smile (From To Hell and Back)

The woman starts scribbling.

“Lord Malak,” she says, “am I to understand that you are no longer affiliated with the Sith Empire? Are you then to be tried as a citizen of the Republic?”

Malak feels his knuckles crack. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. What he does know, right now, is that he wants her gone.

“Lord Malak?” she repeats, and if she says it once more, he’s going to explode. He has no answers for her. And from what he can tell, Revan doesn’t either – not that the woman pays her much heed. That doesn’t stop her from stepping forward and leaning towards the journalist, as if to whisper in her ear.

“It’s classified Jedi business, Miss. Now if you’ll excuse us…”

The woman frowns, but relents.

“Well, then,” she says, handing Revan a card, “should any developments arise… you may contact me at any time.”

Revan slips the card in her pocket and forces a smile.

“I’ll bear it in mind.”

The woman nods and walks away.

“Tell me you’re throwing that away.”

“Nope.”

“Fantastic.”

Choice (From A Woman of her Word, short WIP)

Some things - she realises with bitter amusement - do not change. She watches in silence as Korris closes the hatch behind him, still fuming from their talk, and she knows for a fact that he would have slammed it, had its design allowed it. Let him throw a fit if it pleases him, it changes nothing. The Geth, in many ways, are like spirits - scarce venturing beyond the Veil, as similar and as different from organic life as entities from another realm can be. Like spirits, they cannot be trusted. And like spirits, they can be subdued. That some are capable of emotions - of compassion, even - should not matter. Does not matter. Not when the stakes are this high. Because for all the other Admirals’ distrust, for all they vilify her when they think her out of earshot, she is a woman of her word. They will re-take Rannoch, when the time comes, and she will find a way through the Veil. Whether it is wiser to cross it or remain here... she does not know. Though she is loath to admit it, there are advantages to not being a hunted apostate. Not quite as many to being stuck in an enviro-suit. Still, at this point, the choice is hypothetical, and it is up to her to ensure it does not remain so.

Settle (From Long Live the King)

“See, that’s just the thing. They all want me to be Maric. I’m not Maric.”

“And judging by the stories I’ve heard, I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, so the pillow-talk also revolves around my father. Good to know.”

“What? No! Stop deflecting.”

“Why should I? It’s what I’m best at. Oh, got a new shield, by the way. Does just that. Deflecting. Or it… would if I used it more.”

She took a breath. Do not take the bait.

“That’s not true, and you know it. You’ve got this. Being King. Besides, who cares that you grew up in a stable? You’re rebuilding Ferelden now. That’s all that matters.”

“Perhaps.”

Another wave hit the hull, and Alistair brought a hand to his mouth. It took him a moment to straighten up and look at her again.

“So… not that I have a bet to settle or anything but… how long?”

Erin smirked.

“That’s rather vague, your Majesty.”

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about. How long have you had it for…” he winced and gestured towards the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck, where Loghain was still sitting hunched over his map. She laughed.

“Long enough.”

“Since the Blight?”

Erin didn’t answer. Alistair sighed.

“You’re mad.”

“You say that as if you’d just found out.”

[quotidian-oblivion]

Weirdest thing you’ve ever done that failed miserably???????

❤️❤️❤️

MA DUDE.

DID YOU JUST-

YOU DID NOT JUST-

OH GOD.

YOU DID.

YOU DID JUST ASK ME THAT.

I can create a novel for that. It all has happened so many tiiiiiimes! So imma just describe a couple. Thank so much for the ask!!

Nearly all my weird things consist of me trying to impress someone because I am a child who requires an incredible amount of validation.

I wanted to fit in with my newly found friend group so I joined in on them prank calling fast food places. I put on a goofy accent, a Karen voice, but made a big mistake: I was not a theater kid nor a public speaker at the time. Which meant that I was not good at improvisation. I'm both now so it doesn't matter much now, but I was an incredible foolish child back then.

So I called, it was going well, my friends were laughing, my validation bar was off the charts, it was a good experience. I was complaining about my butter chicken not being like my mom's. Or was that someone else? Hold on, was I ranting about how my chicken nugget was missing? Or wait- no- i think I was ordering pizza. Yeah, I think that was it.

Anyway, my friends were laughing at my accent and voice and I yelled "SHUT UP CHILDREN, MOTHER IS TALKING HERE."

Normally that wouldn't be a problem.

But this was little, inexperienced me, and I had just broken character. Without even realizing. And i didn't know how to fix it.

But I was also a very brave dumbass so I pushed. I pushed and kept up the mother charade like a fool until the other person... the guy on the other end of the phone... his voice went quiet. His voice went quiet. Meaning that he was holding in laughter. Meaning that I lost all my resolve.

You know what I did after that?

I said- I said-

"I'm sorry, bye."

Then hung up.

Another instance was when I was the same age of fucking thirteen and I was sheltered and uncultured and generally embarrassing and I saw a meme that had a skeleton in a lab coat holding it open saying "Look at my bone titties" or something and I thought it was funny despite not knowing what it meant and I had a really cool science teacher back then who always loved letting his students show him memes and i wanted in and i showed it to him and he just laughed and said "thats a good one" then went away and when my friend asked what i had showed it to him and i showed it to her and she told me "you're fucking stupid aren't you? do you know what that means?" and i said "no" and she told me and i nearly stabbed myself in the neck with a pencil.

*takes deep breath*

Anywayyyyyyyyy. I'm a much wiser and older person now. And very well versed in the culture of dirty jokes and bad words so i never repeat the mistake again. And I also learnt how to improvise better, so much so that I can confidently crack proper jokes when spontaneously called to the stage during an assembly so. Experiences teach you sumth ig. That's your lesson.

[the-baddest-of-batches]

Chapter Twenty-Two: Reflections (Sneak Peek)

18 BBY ???

"Over here!"

I groan. What is that sound?

"I'm picking up a life sign, sir, I think he's okay."

Haywire's voice cuts in, gruff and firm. For a moment, I mistake him for Addie, disappointed in me like usual.

"Get in there and get him out, now. I want both streets closed off."

"Sir, yes sir!"

My arms hurt. There's hands gripping my sore bleeding skin. Let me go. I can only moan.

"We have you, just relax."

"You're okay."

I'm really too tired to say anything. I give into them limply. There's a cool injection and some of the pain fades. I can almost breathe again. They're lifting me, hauling me onto a stretcher.

So I guess I'm not dead.

I don't know what time it is. Or how long I've really been here. I probably need some water.

Cracking my hazy eyes, I can see Haywire looking down at me and nodding to someone beside him. Their faces fade and I close my eyes again. The relief is galvanizing. I'm going back to base. I didn't fail.

I'm tearing up without really knowing it, my face too scraped and bruised, but I can feel the salt in all my cuts. They came for me.

#

Captain Haywire waits for me in the debriefing room of the base. He and his men got my message two days ago. And thanks to them, I'm back on my feet, albeit limping. The medics declared at least half my ribs broken. But they cleared me to give the briefing before I head back to the Empire.

I step inside and find the Captain pacing the room.

"Glad to see you on your feet." Haywire doesn't look up.

I walk to the table in the middle and lean on it to take the weight off my bruised hip.

"It's thanks to you," I say.

Haywire pauses momentarily. "I was told you know something. What's the report?"

"You and your men need to prepare," I say and look at the holo table. "I don't have details, but I know those rebels were planning something big. Since none of them have been apprehended yet, I assume they still are."

"How big?"

"The, bringing a droid army against this city and arming it with your stolen weapons, kind of big."

Haywire takes a deep breath. He pulls up the map of the city. "I'll increase patrols and see about civilian evacuation into the base. There's an underground shelter here from the clone wars. We can keep people from getting caught in the crossfire that way."

"I've already informed the Moff," I say. "I asked him to bring you reinforcements."

"We're going to need it." Haywire rubs the back of his head. "Thought I'd never have to see another tinny in my life."

"So did I."

Haywire walks around the table and faces me. We're the same person, same face, same height, but two very different men. He looks older, wiser, and somehow almost like he was born on this planet, while I'm an offworlder.

"I haven't met a lot of men like you in my lifetime," Haywire says, a rather blunt note on perhaps my stubbornness, or maybe that bit of my personality Headshot always called anti-social.

"But you saved a lot of people today." Haywire looks back at the map of the city. "Take care of yourself, Kian."

I look over at the map too. It isn't a big city. But it reminds me of all the cities I've seen in the past. I never could save everyone. Not even when I tried. I couldn't do it alone, and I wouldn't be here now if not for Haywire.

I look at his suntanned grizzled face. My face. Better yet, our face. "I couldn't have done this without you, sir. You saved my life."

I swear Haywire smiles but he doesn't look at me. He picks up his helmet and turns for the door. "I know."

NOTE: This is super late bc I got extremely distracted working on Mandalorian armor and my clone kit, so my apologies!

[thewritetofreespeech]

I'm feeling under the weather. Would you write some scenarios of how the GOM boys + Kagami would take care of me to help me feel better???

Awwww! I’m so sorry to hear that!! I hope you feel better ^_^. Hope this helps too! It’s a little long with all the boys. So rest of the GOM + Kagami is under the cut.

Akashi:

Being sick was the worst. Between the body aches & pains, general lethargy, you hadn’t gotten out of bed hardly at all today. You barely had the energy to get up and call school this morning to tell them you weren’t coming. Thankfully, they hadn’t pressed, and wished you a speedy recovery for returning to class on Monday.

That was your wish too.

You didn’t want anyone to know you were sick.

Sleeping most of the day, you were surprised to hear the doorbell much later in the afternoon. This would be the time you would normally just be getting home from school. So, who could possibly expect you to be home right now?

“Akashi-kun…?” You said in surprise. Finding your boyfriend, and his dreamy duel-colored eyes, on the other side of your door.

“Hello darling.” The brilliant red head greeted with a soft smile. As if it was perfectly natural for him to be here. “I heard you were under the weather. So I came to check on you. I also brought a physician to check in on you as well.” You look past Akashi finally to see a nice, older looking gentleman in a white lab coat with a crescent eyed smile.

“Akashi-kun, I already went to the doctor. That’s how I know I’m sick.”

“This doctor is better.” He announced as he saw himself in, with his doctor, and led you over to the couch. “He’s the personal physician for the Akashi family. His credentials are far superior to that of your typical clinic doctor.” You want to say something to him about how it didn’t take ‘superior credentials’ to diagnosis a cold, but Akashi was already positioning you on the couch. He gave you another soft smile before he turned to the doctor with a much cooler look and told him to get to work.

Sure enough, you still have a cold. “Gee, I’m so glad you brought such a brilliant doctor all the way here for me Sei-kun.” You quip sarcastically. Using your familiar nickname now that you were alone.

“Humor me, alright.” He replied. Bringing over the tray of tea he had been busying himself with while the doctor examined you. “I was worried when you didn’t come to school today. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you….” You mutter into your tea cup once he had handed it to you. “I know…you get worried about people you care about being sick, after what happened to your mom. When Kuroko was sick last winter you practically wore a trench in the floor pacing ‘til you knew he was better.” Your fingers run the brim of the tea mug. Soaking up the warmth in your hands as you hold it. “I thought I could get over it before you found out, so you wouldn’t have to be the wiser. I guess that was pretty stupid hn? You always figure everything out.”

Akashi looked at you with a soft expression. Then he leaned in to kiss your warm forehead. “You’re not stupid. Don’t ever say that about yourself.” He told you. “And yes, it’s true. I get worried when people I care about are ill. But more than that I get worried when people don’t tell me things. When my mother was sick, no one told me anything. They said she was fine. Then one day she was just gone. Being in the dark is worse than just knowing the truth. So I must insist that you tell me these things in the future. Ok?”

You smile a little. You can tell he was trying really hard not to make this an order; his orders were absolute after all. But he was trying to make sure that he was kept in the loop in the future. He was worried about you.

You smile a little and snuggle into Akashi’s chest. “Yes kotei-kun.”

Midorama:

Thank God Japan had such strict firearm laws, because if you had a gun right now you’d shot yourself.

Ok, no you wouldn’t. But death would be a sweet blessing over this cold. This 24-hour bug thing hit you hard and hit you fast. Crippling you from a once vibrant human being to a walking corpse in less than a few hours. You sincerely wished that it was only 24 hours.

You hear the doorbell from the kitchen and hope it’s your soup. Too weak to even make your own food, you’d begrudgingly ordered some hot broth in an attempt to eat and keep up your strength.

You open the door to surprisingly find not your soup but Shutoku’s positive point guard standing there. “Takao?”

“Hi [Y/N]-chan!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Shin-chan heard you were sick. So, he wanted to come take care of you.” Holding of a napsack of supplies.

You blink once, looking around to see if you had somehow missed Midorima in your fever fogged mind. “He’s…here?”

“Don’t just stand in the door way and let the cold air in. You’re just going to make your cold worse.”

You blink again and Takao gave an awkward laugh as he scratched the back of his head, before revealing a small green walkie-talkie from his pocket. “He didn’t want to get sick himself.”

A grumble of irritation left your lips. “So Shintaro sent you to do his dirt work, as usual.” Takao laughed again. “Tell him thanks but no thanks. I don’t want any second-hand bedside manner, and I’m just going to sleep anyway.”

“Oy! [Y/N]-chan! Don’t be like that!” The dark-haired teen’s hand lanced out to catch the door. Barring you from closing it. “Shin-chan was really worried when you didn’t come to school today. Honest. He does want to help. You just know how he is though. I know it’s not the same as coming up here himself, but he bought all this stuff and wrote down all these instructions for me to help make you feel better.”

You look at the bag Takao had in his hand. It did seem like a lot. Midorima must have gone to several different drug stores to pick it all up and bring it over here. Even if he did stay in the parking lot. You look past Takao down to the ground floor, where Midorima was standing looking up at your apartment. Seeming to wait for you to follow his instructions about going inside but also with that steadfast look he got when he was truly worried about something.

“You just don’t want to go back down there and tell him you failed.” The boy in front of you laughed with an awkward ‘maybe’. “You can’t stay too long. My parents are going to be back after work, and they’re not going to be happy about a boy in my room and another one looking real stalkery in the parking lot.”

“Thanks [Y/N]!” Takao said as you let him in.

“Make sure they take the cold medicine now, before it gets too late. It’s one cap full every 4 hours. Drink some of the green tea I made for you. It’s in the green thermos. The red one is soup.”

“I know how to take medicine Shintaro. And I already ordered food before you got here. It’s on its way so-Wait! Why am I arguing with a walkie-talkie!?!”

Aomine:

You have an absolutely splitting headache. To the point that every time you get up to go to the bathroom and throw up, you check to see if an icepick is somehow lodged in the back of your skull.

Why did you have to get sick today? Aomine was going to kill you for missing his game; even if the outcome was inevitable. His love for basketball was second only to you (and sometimes you weren’t sure about the ranking). So you being at his games was what he loved most of all. If you weren’t there to see him crush whatever team into dust and lead his team to victory, you’d never hear the end of it. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d get in the Zone early on and not even realize you weren’t there. Yeah…that was possible….

You crack your eyes open into painful, narrow slits from under the covers as you realize the pounding you were hearing was not just in your head but at the door. What idiot was banging on your door in the middle of the afternoon?

Steeling yourself to get up and answer the door. You were surprised to find it was your idiot behind the door. Aomine standing there, in his trademark Too warmup suit and equally trademark scowl.

“Aomine? What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!”

“I kind of live here.”

Aomine tsked through his teeth with a sneer. “That’s not what I meant, baka! Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?!”

“Oh….” You blink a little in surprise. What was a good way to tell him that you didn’t think he’d care? “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“It’s not, but you should still tell me about it!” He told you. “I had to hear about it from Satsuki. Do you know how stupid that makes me look if I don’t know that my own s/o is sick?!”

“So are you mad that I didn’t tell you? Or are you mad that I made you look stupid?”

“I’m mad at both!” Aomine yelled. He then seemed to realize he was yelling at a sick person, and his s/o, so he took a breath and calmed down. “Here.”

You look down at the convenience store bag he offered you. Taking it in your hands. “What’s this?”

“Jellies.” He replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know which flavor you’d like when you’re sick, so I just got a bunch of ‘em.”

You blink at the bag, then up at Aomine. He…got these for you? You can see on his face now that he was angry because he was worried about you. Not that you were going to miss the game, but because he was worried about you. Your beautiful basketball ace was too proud to admit it though. “Thanks.” You said softly, with an equally soft smile.

The ace looked away and rubbed the back of his head while he was at it. “Yeah well, jellies always made me feel better when I was sick as a kid. Figured they’d make you feel better too.”

“I really appreciate it. I haven’t been able to keep much down.” Maybe that was TMI, but hey. Relationships weren’t always moonbeams and rainbows. “These will really hit the spot.”

“Well, I got extra red ones in there for you, so crack one open.” Aomine said as he saw himself past you and into your apartment.

“Hold on! You’re eating my present now?! Wait…hang on a minute, aren’t you supposed to be warming up for your game? How are you going to get back in time for starting line up if you’re here now?”

“I’m skipping it.” The blunette answered as if it was obvious. Taking off his windbreaker jacket and throwing it in a chair, before he flopped himself on your couch with his limbs stretched out to take up most of it. “There’s no one strong on that team anyway. So, it’s no fun. Let those other guys put in the work for once. They can’t expect me to carry the team all the time. So annoying….”

You stare at Aomine. Was he really….skipping basketball….to be with you here when you’re sick?

A warm feeling, you’re sure was not your fever this time, spread over you. He really did care, didn’t he?

“You should really put those in the fridge before they get warm. Warm jellies are the worst. I still want a red one though. Maybe two now that I think about it.”

You grumble as the ‘warm feeling’ starts to dissipate. Still harboring in your chest, but certainly less profound than it was a moment ago. “It’s super rude to eat someone’s present when they haven’t even had one of them, Aomine.” You still give him the red ones though.

Kise:

Your kingdom for another box of tissues. At the rate you were running through them, a small rainforest was in serious jeopardy.

If you didn’t feel so cruddy, you’d be more worried about that fact. Right now, however, you just wanted your nose to stop running. You had been sneezing and sniffling all day, and in an effort to not be labelled ‘Typhoid Mary’ chosen to stay home from school. It was the reasonable thing to do. When you were sick.  

You finish blowing your nose for the umpth time when your phone rang. You pick it up and answer with a gravely, “hello?”

“[Y/N]-CCHI!!”

You pull the phone away from your ear at the loud, sobbing cry of your name through the phone from your boyfriend. “Kise…don’t yell…”

“[Y/N]-cchi! You’re sick! Why didn’t you tell me?? Kurokocchi had to call me today and tell me!”

Damn Kuroko. That snitch. “Because it’s not a big deal. It’s just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”

“But [Y/N]-cchi! You’re all alone with no one to take care of you! I won’t be back til Sunday!” Kise had gotten a modeling job out of town for the weekend. Some ‘on location’ gig for some sea side pics. Poor Kise. He must be freezing. But, those photos needed to be done and printed long in advance before summer time to boost sales.

If you had had to put money on it, you would have thought he would be the sick one: running around half naked on a frozen beach in January. Yet here you were.

“Do you think I just sit in a dark closet, with nobody around, until you show up again Kise?” A dramatic gasp was heard on the other end of the phone. “I’m not ‘alone’ Kise. I mean, I am now, but I have people around me to help if I need it. So you don’t have to worry.”

“But I’m not around to help you!” Kise whined. You can practically hear the broken-hearted boyfriend emoji floating around his head. “Let me at least order you some soup. Soup is what sick people eat right? That place near your house has that chicken ramen you like. Chicken ramen is like chicken soup. That’s what people eat when they’re sick right?? Or maybe you want something else?? What’s another thing that sick people eat?!”

“Ryouta!” You have to yell his first name to get him out of the spiral. You love Kise, but every now and then his boundless energy was annoying. You let out a sigh, and tell him, “yes, you can order me some food. Don’t go overboard.”

Kise perked up. You do kind of wish you could see his smiling face. It was so cute when he did these adorable 180s. He promised not to go overboard before he hung up the phone and ordered you some food. He then immediately called you back to let you know it would be there in 20 minutes, and told you all about his day.

He stayed with you on the phone when your food came, and even after. You watched one of your favorite movies on Netflix party, curled up in your blankets on your bed. If you closed your eyes and focused on the warmth of your blankets & Kise’s soft voice in your ear, it was almost like he was here.

You fell asleep to that feeling. Feeling much better after you woke up and waiting for Kise to come home.

Kuroko:

You toss and turn a little in your sleep, trying to get back to it as you’ve actually woken up and want to sleep more. Rest was the only cure for a cold. And although you were still tired, even though you’d stayed home and slept all day, you were apparently too tired to fall back asleep.

You crack your eyes open. Your vision blurry for a moment before it clears up. Leaving you with a sea of blue in front of you. “Hello [Y/N].”

You let out a surprise shriek, followed by an almost perfect imitation of your boyfriend’s Ignite Pass against his face. “K-Kuroko!” You stammer, as the young man in question tried to recover from the shattering blow you just gave him. “I’m so sorry! What are you doing here?!”

“Your mother let me in.” He replied, words muffled by his hand. He pulled it away to inspect it and seemed to find no blood. That was a relief. You’d feel so bad if you both were down for the count. “I wanted to see you, and bring you your course work for today.”

Ah. So that’s how he got in. You didn’t think your mother would just let a high school boy in your room unsupervised. Also, maybe it was because Kuroko looked so unthreatening. If only she knew. “Thanks. Sorry again.”

“It’s alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a sick person.” He said with a soft smile. His hand reached out to pet your head. “How are you feeling?”

“Still crummy,” you confess, “but on the mend. I’m sure I’ll be back to school on Monday.”

“Good. Everyone at school misses you. Even the senpais were asking about you today.”

“Did you miss me Kuroko?” You ask sheepishly.

To which he got a surprised expression before softening and immediately answering, “yes.”

Your face warmed with something other than a fever, and you pulled your blanket up to your nose. “You should go. I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“I’ll stay for a little bit longer. Don’t worry. I won’t get sick.”

It was a big fat lie as Kuroko was sick immediately after he left. He really should have known better with his borderline frail physique for anything other than basketball. Still, it was nice to talk to him for a while. And you got to take care of him after you were better, so it was all worth it.

Murasakibara:

‘Just a few more hours. You can do this.’

You keep repeating that to yourself over and over again in your head as you trudge down the hall. Only a few more classes and you could go home to die in peace. Why did you have to have a test today?!

Your penance march comes to a halt when you run into somebody. Looking up you realize it was Murasakibara. “Oh, sorry Mura-kun. I didn’t see you there.” You really must be sick if you hadn’t noticed the tower that was your boyfriend and Yosen center.

“[Y/N]-cchi, you don’t look so good.” The purple haired man drawled.

You frown up at him, not needing to hear that right now. “That’s not very nice to say to your s/o, Mura-kun.”

“But it’s the truth.” He told you. “Honesty is the best policy.” You couldn’t really argue with him there. Besides, you were too weak to argue.

Suddenly your vision was dark. You were worried for a second that you might have blacked out in your sick induced state, but quickly realize that Murasakibara’s large hand was on your face. “Mura-kun, let go.”

“You have a fever.” He replied, completely ignoring your protest. He still let you go, of his own volition, and stood to his full height again. “You need to go to the nurse.”

“No. I need to go to class.” You state in a huff. Batting his hands away in an effective, but weak manner, before walking past him to head just there.

You make it about three steps before Murasakibara grabbed you. Lifting you up in the air with ease and throwing you over his shoulder, in a move that would have made your head spin normally. Not to mention if you had a fever. “Atsushi! Let go!” You shout. Squirming and kicking your legs to no avail.

“No. You need to go to the nurse.” He repeated. Carrying you like a sack of potatoes as he walked down the hall.

“Put me down Atsushi! This is embarrassing! I need to go to class and take my test! It’s important!”

“Nothing is more important that your health.” You stop struggling for a moment as Murasakibara said something actually profound for once. “[Y/N]-cchi needs to take care of themselves, or they’ll just get sicker and get others sick. Tests and silly stuff like school work can wait.”

You grumble and slump down on Murasakibara’s shoulder. It wasn’t like him to be this serious. He also seemed very serious about taking you to the nurse. Nothing seemed capable of deterring him from that path. “Mura-kun, can you put me down? I’ll go to the nurse with you, but this isn’t really comfortable and I can walk on my own.”

He stopped. Then gave you a side ways glance out of the corner of his eye, seeming to not trust you, but still gave in and sat you down. “[Y/N]-cchi is gonna be good?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “I’ll be good.”

He escorted you the rest of the way to the nurses station. Asking if he could have a lollipop, and annoyed when they didn’t have one. What kind of a doctor’s office was this if they didn’t have lollipops, he asked. You’d giggled a little bit and told him to get to class. You’d call him later, since your parents were going to have to pick you up and take you home. You 100% had a fever and were told to go home. Murasakibara pet your head once more before he left to get to class.

The next day, when you were home recuperating, your mother had come into your room with a big candy store bag. “Someone left this big bag of lollipops at the door for you. Do you have any idea who it’s from?”

Kagami:

“I’m really ok Mom….No, it’s not that serious….You really don’t have to come home. Dad either. It’s not the first time I’ve had a cold, and I’m just gonna sleep it off. I’ll be fine by myself…..Yes, I got medicine….No. I’ll be ok. I have a friend from school who’s checking in on me….I love you too. Bye.”

“Your Mom ok?” You look up from the couch when Kagami came up behind it. Handing you a bottle of water for your scratchy sounding throat.

“Yeah. She’s ok. Just worried. She asked if I wanted her to come home, but I told her no.” You hate to admit it but you’re pretty sure it was a hollow gesture. Your parents work was very important. You had learned that early on growing up. They missed certain things in the trade off for having very important, successful careers. One of which was taking care of their child when they were sick.

“You also didn’t tell her it was me who was here. How come?”

“You want me to call her back and tell her we’re playing house?” You ask, with as cheeky of a grin as you can muster being sick. It still got the desired result.

“We’re not playing house!”

“Doctor then?”

Your cute boyfriend turned about as red as his hair, and stalked off back to the kitchen while fluster muttering to himself.

You chuckle a little. Which turned into a coughing fit, so you had to drink a little bit of water.

You and Kagami had initially bonded over being “latchkey kids”. Though your situation was not as severe as Kagami’s, with your parents still being in the country at least, they both traveled for work a lot and were rarely home. They tried to stagger their work trips so you wouldn’t be home alone, but this wasn’t the first time.

This also wasn’t the first time you would be alone when you were sick, if it hadn’t been for Kagami.

“Aren’t you worried you’re going to get sick?” You ask from the living room. Your voice squeaking and squawking the whole time.

“I never get sick.” He replied back confidently. Then rounded the corner with a tray you were 90% sure you did not have in your house before now. “Basketball and eating right keeps me healthy. So, I never get sick. You don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t think eating a dozen cheeseburgers a day counts as ‘eating right’.” You tell him.

Kagami grumbled. Seeming to want to argue or say something, but realizing its bad form to fight with a sick person. Instead, he just sat the tray down in front of you and sat on the couch. “What’s this?”

“Chicken noddle soup,” he replied. “Japan doesn’t have the right noodles. So I had to use soba. But the main part should be the same.”

“You made me chicken soup?”

Kagami tensed for a moment. His face turning hot pink again; possibly from the soft expression on your face or the soft sound of your voice. He turned away, scratching his cheek. “Y-Yeah. Like I said, it’s important to eat right to keep healthy. So…So eat up so you can be at school on Monday. It sucks when you’re not there.”

You smile softly at Kagami, then lean over to give him a peck on the cheek. “You said you never get sick right?” You tell him when he looked at you. His cheeks still pink, but not much pinker than before.

You eat your soup and gush constantly over how tasty it was. Kagami seemed super proud. Cooking and basketball were the two skills he was most proud of, and knowing that you liked something he made made him puff out his chest even more.

After your soup he made you a bowl of ice cream you were also 90% sure you did not have in your house before now and watched a movie.

After that, Kagami said he was going to head home but when he stood up from the couch you hand lanced out and grabbed onto his shirt tail on it’s on. “Could…Could you stay?” You’ll blame the weak sounding tone of your voice on your cold later. “I know I told my mom that I’d be fine on my own but….I really don’t want to be alone.”

The red headed ace blinked, seeming surprised by your confession (that you were also totally going to blame on your cold later). He gave you a soft smile and sat back down on the couch. Pulling you into his arms so you were practically in his lap. “You could have just told me that.”

[imerdwarf]

Don't Get Short With Me

Summary: You and Bucky get into a tiny argument about an upcoming mission, but when you've had enough of him talking down to you (literally) neither of you can stop laughing when you go to the extreme of being taller than him.

Pairings: Beefy!Bucky x Short!reader

Warnings: Very mild angst because of their minor argument, humour, fluff, kisses 🥰

The extra added stress from Bucky definitely wasn't needed right now. The upcoming mission you were being sent on was just days away and there was still a lot to go over in briefing but that didn't stop Bucky from breathing down your neck and taking every opportunity to complain about it.

"I just don't see why you gotta go on that mission doll. They could send Nat or Wanda." Bucky scoffed following you into the kitchen. He almost crashed into the back of you when you stopped walking suddenly and spun on your heels.

"Why? Because they are 'regular sized people'?" You made air quotes to emphasize your point, and his expression told you that's exactly it. "Argh! I don't believe you Barnes! Just because I'm shorter than everyone else in this building it doesn't make me less of a person!"

Bucky cracked a small smile which he quickly wiped off when he saw the raging fury behind your eyes.

"Look, I'm not saying you're incapable of doing this mission. I know you can do it well but hydra are not small people doll. You kinda need two of you to take one down."

You clicked your tongue and stepped forwards so you were toe to toe with your boyfriend.

"I can't believe you just said that. You need to stop talking down to me because I'm not a child!" You yelled, your face staring directly at his chest. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and you couldn't resist looking.

Ooh he's growing his chest hair back, nice!

"Well, I kinda have to talk down to you. It's not like I can talk to you up here."

"You're such a butthole Barnes. At least I'm smarter than you!"

Bucky's mouth dropped open and closed again. "I'm stronger!" He fought back, his jaw visibly clenching.

"I'm wiser!"

"Ha! That's another word for smarter, dummy!"

"So!"

"So I'm taller!"

"And I.... Am not falling for that!" You huffed and stomped your foot childishly before marching around the kitchen to grab the kitchen chair and set it down in front of Bucky. You climbed up onto the chair and folded your arms across your chest, now you were the one looking down on him.

You and Bucky had a staring contest that lasted just a few seconds, because he was the first one to crack and start laughing. His laugh was so contagious that you couldn't help but join in also.

His strong arms reached out to grab your waist, your arms wrapped around his neck for stability as he lifted you down off the chair and onto his waist. Your legs wrapped around him and you were both still laughing.

"God, you're such a baby." He said between chuckles.

You feigned offence and smacked his chest. "I am not a baby!"

"And I love you but this is our job baby. Why don't you come with us? I'm sure Steve will find a way to get you on the mission."

Bucky leaned closer and pecked your lips. "You're my baby. And I love you so much that I can't help but worry about my baby." He kissed you again, longer this time that your lips started to tingle. Your fingers mindlessly played with the strands of his hair.

"You know what." He kisses your cheek, the prickly hairs from his stubble scratching your skin. "I never thought of that."

"See? Told you I was smarter."

"Alright, don't start getting short with me!" Bucky laughed lowering you down onto the ground.

"Yeah, yeah. Let the short jokes begin."

[saphirered]

Hi there! You writings are wonderful. Please could you do an EssekXreader where the reader is from another high ranking den and is betrothed to Essek for political reasons. Both Essek and Reader aren't keen on the idea but eventually after spending time together realise they actually have feelings for each other, I'm thinking a bit like The Swan Princess. Please and thank you.

This is gonna be a two parter as the current draft already exceeds my usual word count limit 🙈 so stay tuned for part two in the next few days! Hope you enjoy 😘

Denial. It must be a cruel joke. Your family, your den they would never use you as a pawn in a bigger plot. This was all just a cruel joke or a move to assure their political advancement without the need to go through with this.

Anger. No. This is real. How dare they? How could they? They would use you like that? Without having the decency to let you know before the deal was made no less! Were it anyone else you’d crush them beneath your boot like the vermin they are for condemning you to a fate not of your own choosing. Perhaps you still might…

Bargain. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could just play your part and go your separate ways. A betrothal doesn’t have to end in a marriage. Even if it does, all that counts is appearances. Beyond that you could still have your own life right? You’d always be able to make the ‘me’ decision and wouldn’t have to take in account the ‘we’. Yes that should be right.

Depression. Your life is ruined! You’ll forever be tied to someone else without your consent. Your decisions will reflect on the many now. You’ll have to watch your every move and every choice or it may reflect terribly on your legacy. There’ll be expectations and can you ever live up to them while still being content with your own life or will you be sacrificing your happiness for something so stupid?

Acceptance. Acceptance…. Hell no!

Time for the first official meeting with Essek Thelyss in the context of your arrangement. You’d met many times before given both of your stations and reputations but now, you couldn’t help but feel a coldness towards the man regardless of what cordial or friendly dynamic you might have had in your limited social interactions.

Your respective families meet. You on your side, Essek on his. Both of you portray the facial expressions excepted of you; indifferent content. Nothing over excited nor anything remotely negative either but you’ve been raised a reader of the people and you could see through the cracks in Essek’s appearance. He’s just as happy with this arrangement as you are; not at all.

“It is a pleasure to meet you here today.” Essek speaks. The rules of engagement have not forgone any of you despite your discontent with this whole situation but for the sake of your watching families you’d play your parts. You’d put on a damn good show.

“You as well Shadowhand. Light be blessed we get to spend it in such magnificent company.” You can feel the approving look burn into the back of your head from your Denmother. They’d be none the wiser.

And so the negotiations began. All be damned if you did not at the very least were able to set some of your own terms in this arrangement. Fundings to sustain your lifestyle or a dowry were the least of your worries. You were more concerned with a place you could call your own, time to spend for yourself, security and stability and the ability to continue your life as is regardless of possible marriage. You would never give up your seat at the Bright Queen’s council and you’re very sure Essek wouldn’t give up his either.

Essek had to admit you played the game well. You’re a killer negotiator. Your persuasive side had shone at the Bastion more than once but those circumstances are wholly different than these. Your ability to make it sound like these ideas came from your den and not yourself, and have them think these suggestions were their ideas in the first place is simply remarkable. Remarkable and dangerous. Respect. But no matter how good of a talker you are, or he is for that matter, neither of you could get out of this.

Afternoon tea, a few lunches and dinners here and there and even a few events you were forced to attend with Essek as your escort under the careful watch of your dens. Whenever you were sure they were out of earshot you did not make it unknown neither of you wanted to be here and would prefer to be as far away from each other as possible.

Then there were the times you swore you might actually be able to like the Shadowhand. Councils held lead to many arguments, the Bright Queen watching the court fight among themselves for a next course of action, fundings to be divided and efforts to be pursued. You always kept a level head not allowing yourself to get worked up, or at least appear you weren’t but sometimes you could strangle the life out of some of these fools.

To your surprise in some of these occasions Essek would take your side and support your arguments, concerns and points brought up in debates. So he does know what’s good for him after all? Those moments were quickly ruined by the next point on the schedule where you’d be at opposing sides again. Usually you’d be able to work up an opponent in debate until their credibility would be questioned but Essek had caught onto your games and was no fool. If you could keep your cool, so could he. You had learned how to push his buttons as he had yours.

After a particularly heated debate the Bright Queen dismissed the dens, done with the bickering and infighting for the day. You couldn’t blame her even though there were still many things unspoken. You and Essek were at odds once more and you couldn’t be happier to be done for the day and head somewhere you wouldn’t be forced to interact with the asshole.

Conferring with your allies, trying to gain support of others, you grabbed your things ready to leave the Bastion. There he floated in the anti-chamber eyes cold focussed on you, waiting. You pretend you don’t notice and keep walking for the exit. Essek calls your name as you’re about to pass him. You don’t respond and keep going. He calls again. No response. He grabs your arm stopping you in your tracks. How you’d hoped to escape this confrontation.

“A moment of your time please.” The words leave his lips with an artificial, well-practiced warmth. Oh you’re fighting so hard to contain yourself but you too had a facade to keep up.

“Another time perhaps. I’ve grown quite exhausted after the day’s events. If you will excuse me.” You smile innocently placing your hand over his secured around your wrist. You pry your fingers beneath forcing him to release his grasp on you.

“Then allow me to escort you back home. Should you be able to muster up the strength to converse on our path I’d love nothing more than to just hear your voice.” Essek encases your hands between his. Eyes of the dens fall upon the two of you in the middle of the anti-chamber. Essek is known to be a reserved individual and these advances definitely stand out.

Oh so that’s the game we’re playing. Asshole move, Shadowhand. Two can play this game. If it’s the company you’re currently in he’s using against you you can do the same. You take a step closer to him standing on your tiptoes and lean in to press your lips to his cheek. You linger just a little and whisper into his ear.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You allow the distaste to bleed through your barely audible words before you pull away and take a step back. You couldn’t refuse his ‘generous offer’. It might make you look bad so you smile bright and nod even managing to call on a fake blush like some lovesick fool. From the corners of your eyes you notice the court members whisper among each other. Good. Let them talk. You link your arm through Essek’s still carrying your things.

“I believe I might have forgotten my transcripts of the day. Would you mind joining me in retrieving them?” So whatever the wizard needed to discuss with you he couldn’t say in public… Oh Essek what a mistake you made… That certainly offers you some opportunities to use to your advantage.

“Nonsense! I have my transcripts. You’re free to borrow them, or perhaps you’d like to study them with me? It might give us the opportunity to come to a compromise without wasting the Council’s time. After all, there’s much more pressing matters.” His expression might be a thankful one but if looks could kill… you’d be introduced into your next life this very second.

You begin leading Essek out of the building not allowing him any response or comeback for your previous statement. You walk head held high catching onto the praises of others. ‘A great match’? If only they knew…

Your walk continued in seething silence from Essek. Until you reached your home. Opening the door and leaning against the doorframe making sure no one else is in sight, you smirk at him.

“I’m curious. If I refused to part with these,” You hold up the transcripts. “What would you do? Would you go back and receive your own copies or would you go without them?” You leaf through the pages. It’s not like you needed them. You already had all you needed memorised so if anything they’d go into your archives for future reference and case study if necessary. Essek doesn’t dignify you with an answer yet so you continue to press his buttons.

“Would you be able to discredit my every word or counter them without the direct word for word reference? Would your arguments hold any weight against my own? Or would you be forced to depend on the vote or Light’s mercy, the Bright Queen’s verdict because if the latter, you’ve already lost, my dear.” You can’t hold back the smugness in your achievements. The look of defeat brought you satisfaction.

Essek bites his tongue. Even he knows that in theoretics you have the upper hand now. Recalling your words from memory alone wouldn’t be enough. He’d needed to cite them exactly providing the transcript in your possession. He couldn’t go back or it might arise questions, questions he couldn’t afford at this moment. What caught him off guard was you offering him the transcript still. He takes it before you can change your mind, the pages disappearing beneath his cloak.

“Luckily for you I’m not your enemy. Yes we might disagree on matters of state but at the end of the day we’re going to be stuck together and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”

“What are you suggesting?” Essek doesn’t know wether he should be wary, outright suspicious, or glad you’ve come up with a plan amidst the chaos.

“A truce. If we keep these antics going it will lead to a war between the two of us. Are you really prepared to be expected to spend the rest of your life with someone you’ve grown to hate? Because I’m not. I’d rather sleep in my bed withe the comfort of knowing my partner will not stab me in the back or sabotage me at every opportunity he gets.” Partner. He. Not they. He. So not even you had a way out of this betrothal.

“Resentment grows much faster than affection.” Essek deadpans. Yes he sees your reasonings and you make some solid arguments but that doesn’t mean he has to trust your motives. He’s aware you in your position are much more dangerous than any spy, assassin or foreign force.

“Light be with me.” You’re exasperated. You’re offering an olive branch and this is his response? You pull him inside and close the door dropping the act entirely within the confines of your own home knowing no one will be watching you here.

“I am not offering you an epic enemies to lovers tale! I’m offering to make the best out of a situation neither of us actually want to be in! Marriage is just another contract. We do what is expected of us by following it to the letter and nothing more, nothing less. Love or affection is not part of that contract but respect is.” Essek takes in your words and considers them making sure you’re not twisting things in such a way you could later use against him or to your advantage.

“Your logic is sound and your arguments persuasive.” You raise your hand in an exasperated ‘thank you’ as he straightens your back and looks down at you.

“Very well. We have an agreement.” You’re on the verge of letting out a breath of relief at Essek agreeing to your terms and suggestions. You’d rather be sure this man isn’t going to drop you on a different plane in your sleep once you’ll be forced to share a home. You’d rather know you can trust him to have your back despite your grievances. At the end of the day, you both want to survive.

“Match made in Elysium.” Sarcasm is clear in your voice and the both of you cannot help but smile. More like match made in hell with the ‘letter of the law’ approach to navigating your predicament.

—————

Pacing back and forth fingers pressed to your lips in thought of Essek’s sitting room you ponder the terms of your agreement. Essek himself is seated on the couch leaning over a two sheets of paper, a long list of demands from both sides written on each.

“Next up housing.” You announce. Essek fiddles with the pen looking over the lists.

“I’m not willing to part with my towers unless something of equal or greater value is returned. I need space for my practices, experiments and studies.”

“I’ll agree to part with my own home under the terms you will share your personal resources with me and I will have amicable space for my own pursuits be this here or at another place of our mutual choosing.” Essek considers your terms on this matter. They are agreeable but this is a negotiation and neither of you are refraining from pushing for an outcome to suit yourself best.

“We will share my home then but we will both share our resources unless they pertain to exclusively personal matters or those of state when we inevitably find ourselves on opposing sides in the Bastion.” You stop pacing and turn to face Essek. He watches for your responses.

“I get my own tower.” You counter.

“That’s preposterous. I have need for certain rooms and areas for my studies and cannot relocate them.”

“Fine. Then I’ll get all unoccupied or unnecessary rooms.”

“You’ll get your own private bedchambers, study and sitting room just as I’ll have mine. These chambers will be exclusive and privacy to be respected. Other spaces save for my laboratory, for your own safety, are communal.” By the expression on your face Essek knows you’ve caught him in a loophole.

“Agreed. We’re entitled to our private spaces and will share the unspecified ones. Kitchen, dining room, living area… library…” You caught hime there… Essek’s expression turns sour. He’d have preferred to keep that one to himself but the agreement is fair.

“I wish to make an amendment.”

“Name your terms.”

“Some shelves will belong to my private collection. You will refrain from touching these tomes and scrolls without my explicit permission.” You ponder not entirely convinced. There’s nothing in there for you and Essek knows it. You raise an eyebrow for him to continue and concede on a previously negotiated term for this amendment to go through.

“And in return, you get to redecorate our communal spaces how you see fit, within the realms of reason.” Essek empathises the latter part of his statement.

“Agreeable.” You nod. “Next up; social engagements.”

The two of you go back and forth agreeing, adjusting, and conceding to come to an equal understanding and finalise your arrangement. Over all, it went surprisingly well. It certainly was a nice change of scene to have somewhat friendly negotiations without the added pressure of the dens and the Bright Queen herself watching you.

Essek makes for a good conversationalist and you might even dare say you enjoyed your afternoon setting the terms and conditions. Maybe you could be friends after all. That would be nice.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

39. "If he's the devil, I finally understand the appeal of hell." 79. "One more word and I'll stitch those lips of yours shut." I'm coming back with more requests 🤣

39. "If he's the devil, I finally understand the appeal of hell." 

79. "One more word and I'll stitch those lips of yours shut."

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A/N - Since you didn’t specify who it is for, I’m choosing my current obsession aka Nicholas Scratch :)

Pairing: Nick x nephillim!reader

Summary: Deciding to be bold and visit hell, Y/N finds someone is need of help.

Warnings: ANGST

Word count: 1800+

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All witches go to hell eventually, it’s the price of walking down the path of night. A necessary evil for a very long life filled with beauty and power - a combination very few could ever deny.

Y/N walked a different path, one very few were given directions to. Path of light was guaranteed only for nephillms and being the daughter of an archangel, Michael, Y/N found herself more powerful, pure and possibly the most ambitious than any witch that walked the earth.

While witches served the dark lord, Y/N sought to destroy him and all he hold dear. Hell could be her domain. She certainly wanted to try.

A portal to hell was easy to find, entering it ever easier considering a fallen archangel ruled it, but she felt weakened. Her powers were far from what they usually are and she couldn’t help but wonder if the danger she’ll face because of it might be worth a retreat...at least for a while.

“A peak won’t hurt, will it?” She whispers under her breath, convincing herself to at least see the throne of lies made by the king of hell. A part of her needed to see Lucifer for herself, to understand what she’s fighting against.

Mouth hanging open, she found her heart picking up speed as she noted the empty throne, glorious as she imagined it to be.

“Wow.” She breathes out, stepping out from her hiding spot without a second thought. Her steps are determined, the look of awe on her face unmatched by anything he had seen and while she was none the wiser, he made himself seen. 

“See something you like?” The low drawl of his voice tugs at her heartstrings and she feels it drop. Is it fear? Perhaps lust? It was hard to tell as she looked at the one speaking.

She hated her thoughts, but they were all coherent and in agreement: ‘If he's the devil, I finally understand the appeal of hell.’

He’s shirtless, his muscular body showing off every ab, every inch of his perfect skin. His dark hair frames his chiseled face perfectly, a little unkempt but the appeal is only stronger with the messy curls forming on top of his head. His forehead is sweaty, his eyes as dark as she suspected his soul is and just as tormented. 

There’s something in his tortured gaze, the black pools framed with long eyelashes that call out for the uncorrupted to make certain it is stained after a single touch of his sinfully big hands. The smirk is what truly brings her to her knees and while she knew better, Y/N nods.

“Can’t lie.” She folds her arms and smirks confidently. “The throne is up to my taste.” 

“Oh? I was certain you’d compliment the body suit I’m wearing.” Sticking his tongue out, he steps closer and Y/N steps back accordingly, holding in a breath that would escape along a scream. A forked tongue? A meat suit?

Lucifer is possessing someone and for once, the throne wasn’t on her mind.

“Who are you possessing?” She tried to act innocent, buy some time to form a plan. Could she really fight the devil for dominance in the name of a man she had first seen just a minute ago?

She wasn’t really sure.

“A warlock who sighed his soul over to me.” Raising an eyebrow, he folds his hands in front of him, just before the skimpy underwear he’s got on. 

“He sacrificed his life to save the world, if you can believe it.” Lucifer steps closer once again and she stands her ground, clenching her jaw to stop it from quivering.

“You sound almost”, she pauses to find the right words, cursing her anxiety for making it hard to converse, “impressed.” She raises an eyebrow too, daring him to speak more. 

“Nicholas Scratch showed a great deal of loyalty and courage...too bad it wasn’t shown for me.” Growling the last bit, Lucifer’s face darkens and Y/N’s heart sinks further.

Nicholas...The name suited him, but it made it harder for her. She couldn’t leave him behind. Not now.

“So why not release him?” Baiting him, Y/N remains impassive on the outside while a hurricane ravages her insides. “He’s of no use to you now.” She steps closer, trying to conjure all of her power. If she can leave a mark of an angel upon him, the devil would have to leave his body and she’d have just enough time to teleport back to earth where Lucifer can’t follow as easily.

“Why would I do that? Torturing him every second of every day is so fun!” Chuckling as Y/N’s left eye twitched ever so slightly, Lucifer’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re in his body. It’s his territory. What if he wins and you’re but a forgotten goat inside a closed off hell?” Losing her temper wasn’t wise, but Y/N had no restrain. Longer she remained in hell, weaker she felt and while she knew it definitely isn’t her domain, she needed to save the warlock who didn’t belong there either. Not for a long while, at least.

However, her words irked the dark lord, causing his charming facade to fade as well. "One more word and I'll stitch those lips of yours shut." 

Holding her breath, Y/N knew it was a matter of time before she lost her advantage and Lucifer realized her identity. So, she mustered all her energy, every last bit of her essence channeled into her right hand and when she fixed her gaze on him, she didn’t fail.

Smiling, almost viciously, Y/N jumped on Nicholas’ body, her right hand landing on his left shoulder and the scream erupting from him echoed in every corner of hell.

She felt the body shaking, held onto him with all she had while he all but convulsed and when she heard him coughing, she looked in time to see a black matter leave his weakened form.

Mumbling a spell, a flash of bright light set hell into a frenzy, temporarily blinding any demon in its vicinity. 

Opening her eyes, she found herself back in her home, Nicholas’ body in her arms. As he collapsed, taking her down with him, Y/N felt her heart crack with worry.

What if it killed him? Demons tend to kill their host, so what if Lucifer killed him too?

Her lips tremble as her fingers press above his carotid, awaiting anything to take the weight off her shoulders. Blood thumping against her fingers drew a relaxed sigh, one that made her giggle with relief. 

“Thank God.” She exclaimed, ignoring tears pricking at her eyes. Nicholas is safe and she had to make sure he stayed safe. 

Spelling him onto the bed, she tended to his fragile body and most importantly, his mind. Reaching him wasn’t possible as his thoughts were erratic, but she did find one important clue - where she needs to bring him back...to who she needs to bring him back to.

Sitting back in her chair, Y/N couldn’t help but shed a tear. 

Nicholas felt familiar, somehow drew her to him and while she could pretend she didn’t care for him, her heart already had a place for him. It’s angel’s nature to love fiercely, to recognize kindred spirits and she never met anyone more suitable for her. 

“Pity.” She smiles though the pain, an affliction that comes with letting go of someone she knew would have changed her life for the better. He could have been her one - someone to love truly, madly, deeply, but she saw her - Spellman, as he called her. His heart wasn’t free and unattached and he would never love an angel.

He’s a warlock, walking the path of night and destruction and she will always be Michael’s daughter, meant to be a beacon of light and hope. Darkness and light don’t mix, she knew that. He’d snuff out her light if she allowed herself another moment of weakness...of love.

“You won’t remember this.” Her frown deepens and she sighs heavily, leaning over him with lips pressed together. “You will never know what we could have been, or what I did for you.” Leaning in, she allows her lips to tremble before pressing them against his forehead with a tenderness she didn’t know she possessed. 

“It’s too late for me. I will always wonder how you are or if you’re safe, but you’ll never be damned with the thought of me.” A sad smile appears on her lips as she feels the tears form once more. 

“Why is it so hard to let go of what isn’t even mine?” Resting her forehead against his, the tip of her nose brushing just past his, her grief of what must be done dissipating with determination to do right by him.

“I hope you find happiness.”

And in a blink, Nicholas was back, laying next to unsuspecting Sabrina.

Opening his eyes, Nick sat up with a gasp, looking around with a wild look in his dark eyes. “Where?” He breathes out, convinced someone else was beside him and it was definitely not Sabrina.

“Hold on, Nick. I’ll get help!” Sabrina jumps to her feet, but Nick is quicker.

“Where is she?!” He can’t remember much, but he remembers a warmth, a sense of safety he never felt before.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Nick, calm down!” Sabrina stepped closer, wanting to hold him - to simply take his pain away and he allows her the intimacy of a hug. It just doesn’t feel right. Not as it felt...he just can’t remember when or with who. All he knows is that someone had helped him out of the mess he made and he was safe. 

Perhaps it wasn’t real and Lucifer made him hallucinate a woman made of light, but he could have sworn he felt her lips on his skin. He could have sworn he heard her soothing voice guide him through the dark.

“What the?” Sabrina frowns, pushing him away just to stand and look at his shoulder, frowning with concern. “There’s a...hand print on your shoulder!” She exclaims, moving out of the way so he’d see it in the reflection and despite the pain he feels inside, Nicholas smiled as tears formed in his eyes.

“She was real.” And he had a clue how to find her.

[the-evolution-comes]

19 & 38 !

19. do you have ship bias?

A very interesting question. In the olden days of this blog I was a horny man. Entirely too much horny. Self inserting for the purposes of smut and also just falling for the ship because I thought characters were hot.

Now that I'm older and much wiser it's not as easy as that. I've always put Viktor at least demisexual, never really being interested in the act but also aromantic. Dating and relationships beyond friendships, and mostly just work relationships, were never anything he thought of. Maybe he had tried but was just too focused on other aspects of his life, not letting anyone take away his attention. Only someone who shared and actively worked with Viktor could POTENTIALLY have a shot at breaking through but any attempts at regular conversation would be interrupted like, "Are you sure this is something to talk about, we are working?" or "Not now, I almost have it." He's not really a good conversationalist even though he is well versed in a myriad of topics.

I just thought of this because fuck it has been what ruins me when I think of it but Vik/Ori is really my preferred ship. It's pretty perfect in my head. Oingo Boingo mama mia oh wow I love it and it started off as crack shipping WITH A CURSED POST FROM LONG AGO THAT @amechanicalgirl and I did and it will never see the light of day again.

Also just revisiting history I did Ahri/Vik (WHICH WOULD NEVER HAPPEN BUT A BOY COULD DREAM) which I liked because it was someone who wasn't involved or really understood what he was doing at all. Sort of like, "Wow this is refreshing in a way that I have to try and not be a scientist when I'm around you even though it's my entire identity.

I also did Vik/Kat because I had HC that Viktor would travel there often because in Old Lore (TM) they had dat #alliance and for whatever reason I thought she would be intrigued by him and there was just this... mystery that pushed them forwards, wanting to learn more and not knowing why they were just drawn to one another. Guilty ship, but one I thought of a lot.

Jay/Vik never and i will set fire to the earth

38. what’s the best inspiration for your muse?

The inspirations for the muse for his inception. Victor Fankenstein and Victor Von Doom. Also I like to look into Russian Nihilism for some inspirations as well even though Riot definitely wasn’t trying to get too deep with their Russian Revolutionary Rip-off. I do like to draw upon Frankenstein, or how I’ve played him in a staged play, because they had so many similarities that I saw. Now with newer lores they are trying to separate him from this hodge podge of references of Transhumanism (deus ex) and especially his Frankenstein-like tie ins (Creating a ‘monster’/sentient life and even his research being used to resurrect Urgot.) 

I haven’t used Dr Doom as a reference in forever. That was more when this blog was a Creator Viktor blog. They might be trying to go that route for him in Arcane I think. Now that it looks like he might be getting some connection to the void, the invasion might be something he thinks only he can stop? Idk, I haven’t thought too much about Viktor’s future timeline since I want to carefully curate who he is as the Herald EVEN THOUGH EVERY TIME I GET SOMEWHERE RIOT HAS CHANGED HIM

[iamdorka]

IMAGINE 'Make the reaction of Colson knowing that it will be dad!!'

When I first saw this requests I thought I had no idea what to do with it... then I wrote this. ❤

- So he doesn't know that I am here? - Casie asked when I picked her up from the airport and we got in my car finally.

- Did you tell her that you are fyling to us? - I asked narrowing my brows looking at her.

- Nope. - she answered with a sneaky smile on her face.

- Then he has no clue... he will got here around 9pm so we have time and we need that... oh Lord we need that.- I admitted to the 10 years old sitting next to me but the last couple of words I murmured to myself while kinda started to feel again that strange and frightening feeling which was inside me last couple of days.. and weeks. Nobody knew my secret. Nobody except my sister and I knew she would not tell it to nobody because if she would do that she just could say goodbye to her life.

- Do you want me to guess this secret of yours Y/N? Would it help your anxiety? - she looked at me while touching gently my fingers.

There are sometimes when I can't believe that this girl next to me is only 10 years old. She is so much wiser than any other little kid, her dad really could be proud of her and this is the reason why I thought that she should be here when he will got home and I will tell all I ever wanted.

- My secret? - I asked back being quite surprised because to be honest I thought I were doing a good job at hiding all of my emotions.

- I'm 10... not dumb. I feel that you wanna say something kinda important to me... - she wanted to continue his speaking but I cut her off as I suddenly parked on the side of the road and without even thinking I said what I said.

- I'M PREGNANT. - I closed my eyes and said it so fast that there was a chance that she didn't even heard it. I felt that my heart started to pound so fast that I thanked myself mentally that I stopped the car before even getting anywhere.

- And... is it a bad thing? Why are you crying? - she asked and I just couldn't not look at her because her words were so pure like they were saying 'Look at me' without even saying it.

- Am I crying? - the thing is I didn't even noticed it until she said so.

- Yeah... you are. - she said as she put her hands on my lap like she was trying to calm me down.

- I planned the whole thing... I wanted to take you out for lunch and then say this to you. That's why I flew you out today.... because I wanted you to know this first because I know how much he loves you and... you are his world and what you think... is really important to me... to us. - I was straight up sobbing during my whole impromptu speech while literally forgetting how to breath or even blink. My heart was full and so heavy.

- He will be so happy. - she broke her silence. - As I am... - she added this because she probably saw on my face that I was still scared as shit.

- Really? - I had to ask... I just had to.

- Y/N... he always wanted a second one... and he will be so happy that he will have with you. I'm so happy that he can share this experience with you. And the fact that you wanted to say this to me first... I appreciate it. - she said and it didn't really take her like 2 seconds she was in my lap hugging me like there were tomorrow.

- Girl... How did you grow up this fast? - I asked and I literally felt her support through her body.

- I think they are right when they say I'm an old soul trapped in this body. - she said laughing.

- Oh girl... - and I could not help but smile too because in her eyes there was the truth.

- So I'm gonna be a big sister? - she asked looking in my eyes.

- It seems so... - I admitted and slightly touched my belly... which started to show a bit but I had my way to hide them... for now.

- Okay... this silence is scaring a bit. - I heard his voice from the balcony where we were silently sitting with Casie keeping our little plan moving.

- You are home? - I was the first who left our place and started to get closer to him when I knew he was almost out.

- Very funny. - he said smiling looking at me like I was doing something unexpected. He probably waited for me to jump on him first time I see him... and I will probably doing that if... if everything turns out great. - So you didn't miss me at all? - he asked as he was getting closer to me ditching all of his belongings what he was still holding.

- I could have done a few more weeks without you. - I said jokingly while having a really serious staring contest with him.

- Liar. - he didn't even blink and in like a second he close the distance between us and pulled me in a kiss which ended up me jumping on him.

- Welcome home touring boy. - I said while holding onto him like I never planned to let him go. - I got something for you. - I said framing his beautiful face in my hands.

- Hope it involves you naked. - he admitted not letting me down from his holding.

- Actually... a few month ago it did. - the last part of the sentence was never spoken out loud.

- What are you working on out there? - he asked as he started to walk towards the balcony with me in his arms.

- You may wanna let me down... - I said this to him but he didn't even cared about that... until he saw who I was there with.

- Casie? - he asked strangely not really knowing what was up.

- Hi dad. - she said, waving at him as she kept painting that t-shirt not really minding him but I knew her acting was just the perfect, the needed one and I was already considering givin her an Oscar for this. For me an ambulance would be better because my heart was pounding so hard but that's another tale to tell.

We were working on the balcony floor with Casie. This was my plan, our plan. We were painting some really specific, costumized t-shirts for this little family and we were waiting for him to walk on us.

- Okay... this is weird. - he stated looking at me then at Casie.

- You are not even curious what I'm painting? - Casie asked casually.

- First I would be curious about... how did you get here? - he asked but I didn't say a word. I just waited there patiently letting him putting together the pieces of the puzzle.

- By plane? - she asked as sassy as she could and I almost died there.

- I figured out that you didn't walk here...- he said as he getting closer and closer to her because he wanted to welcome her properly with a hug at least. While doing this he was givin me those looks when he has not a single clue what was going on. - You two have to explain me what's going on here... but first let me... - and then he saw what she was working on.

His face was confused as hell. At the moment Casie was painting her own t-shirt with the words: 'number one Baker big sister' because we already had done his t-shirt.

- Why are you painting t-shirts this late at night? - he sat down next to Casie looking at me still confused.

- Because we want to? - Casie asked and I almost cracked. - We even made one for you too. You wanna see it? - she continued then she looked at me and I gave her the green light. Luckily I was standing next to the wall because I needed its support. I was about to lose it bad.

- Ohm... Yes? - he asked not knowing a thing... and then he saw what he saw.

- 'Drinking for TWO'. - he read it out loud then he looked at me and he could just see I was already wearing mine.

- 'Eating for TWO'. - I said quietly as I touched gently my belly not breaking our staring contest.

- Is this really happening? - he asked and I think he just forgot how to breath... or even exist anymore.

- Oh definitely... - I smiled but inside I was so dead that I was ready to pass out. He didn't really say anything and the look on his face was... indescribable. - Unless...

- I'm gonna be a dad? AGAIN? - I think the life just came back to him because in like a second he was already stood up next to me.

- Yeah... Why do you think we did this family collection? - Casie too stand next to us slowly.

- Is this really real? - I think he literally was scared to touch me because his hands were shaking when he touched my belly.

- Fucking real Baker. - I winked at him and there and then I lost it. I started crying because I couldn't keep up anymore with all of these heavy emotions.

- You just made my homecoming the best one yet. - he said as he kissed me, hugged me, closed me in his arms doing all of the above.

- Really? - I asked sobbing.

- I can't even put in words how happy I am... Like... I can't... - he said and pulled Casie in our hug too.

- I told you Y/N... I told you...- she added happily accepting our hug.

- Did you really doubted in me? - he asked with a smile so bright that my heart just couldn't take in.

- I was scared as shit... - I admitted and he just started to kiss off my tears from my face.

- But you don't have to be... or at least... we can be scared together. Okay? - he asked me with the most honest, most gentle, purest smile on his lips with the one that made me fall in love with him.

- Okay...

[ton-e]

Helheim is a land of peace.

The layers of agonized wails and woeful imploring she prepared her ears for was lost in the breeze of the melancholic melody of nature. Naked humming voices flowed serenely amidst the gradient of indigo blue leaves, dry and wrinkly, singing the ballads of lost souls attached to skinny tree branches, rinsed of color at the roots, blending smoothly with the pale greenery surrounding the wide meadow that grew to be her most favored solace.

Flowers, prey to decaying, small in stature but mighty in resistance, veiled the piece of soil that parted the center of the dark Kingdom in two, catching vines in the heart core of the spot her beloved boy once clawed his way to freedom, from a grave that came too early for a boy too gentle, too youthful, too much of a man before his time.

Her ghost Prince, her youngest; Stolen and crowned the King of Death, with a rain of tears on his cheeks and a cloak of swords in his back.

'Crowned, ' she spits, imagining it rippling through the dead earth and fell right onto Borr's bald head. Time failed to sweeten her bitterness as she thought, yes, this is how their history beautified the terrible incident. Time didn't heal her pain, neither did it gentled the sharpness of her teeth.

They had deceived him, betrayed him, punished him, stole his life away, and called it a reward.

After that dreadful day, She spent more nights weeping to slumber, eyes buried in the cushions of Hel's frigid chambers, burning brighter, hotter, than the hard oak feeding red-orange flames in the fireplace of her bedroom.

The phantom ice caressing the silver of her skin was more comfort than suffering, painless mercy she sunk into little by little every day until the light of day became unfamiliar. The cold here shares that quality, she ponders, a soft touch of unburnt ice to keep you from perishing.

Its a lot like her son, she thinks.

Yet, Bestla doesn't feel its presence permanently. A long, stone shaded cloak fell upon her shoulders, showering her back in a misty warmth provided by the thick velvet of the garment. Her eyes observe a silhouette shadowing the pale sun, the single leak of blight light hanging above the smoke sky.

"I was hoping to find you here, " Estrid wears a smile radiant enough to pale all gold in the 9 realms. "Peaceful up here, is it not? Hel liked hiding here, as a boy. Said the breeze was nice."

Bestla, for a moment, allows her eye to inspect the other woman for the first time. Her shoulders are round and solid, strong as a soldier, complemented by the stunning danger of a shieldmaiden. Bestla tracks night-dark locks brushing over creamy skin, long and curly. She's as much warrior as she is woman, it's as if she only now observes.

Her arms are an impressive addition, boxy as much as lean, holding closely on her shield and sword. A sword that, doubtlessly, claimed a long string of lives. She's not as fearful as it would be wiser to be. Estrid has been nothing but pleasant, as much as one could be when encountering their circumstance, her presence never frightening her as much as it saddened her.

"For someone carrying such heavy armor, you move with great stealth, Lady Sigurdsson, " If the other woman peaked at the too feather-soft timber of her voice, she had enough cheek to act differently. " I suppose you'd want an explanation as to why I'm avoiding my son?"

" Forgive me, your Grace, but Lord Hellison was never included in the conversation, " Bestla thought she spotted a bloom of red dusting her cheeks as she grinned gently, taking a spot none to tight to the former Queen, but close enough to leave some space had the smaller woman want to fill it. "I thought you would, after..."

"...It's unwise to polish hard truths. They cut harder that way, " The Queen's words were dressed in both honesty and advice, chapters of her life unfolding beneath her eyes as if to pledge truth to the statement. Estrid studied each word with expert attention.

Bestla raises, arms guarding her middle, eyes cast over the sea of flowers beneath her shoes.

"I'm grateful, for the kindness you showed him. I remain in your debt, in fact, though it escapes me how I can repay you here. "

"We don't believe in paying kindness, in the North. Goodness isn't traded in gold, " a quiet chuckle is swept by the breeze slashing through the grand mountains. Estrid inhales deeply and opens her arms when she lets her body fall upon the grass. "If it was, don't you think more people would practice it?"

The southerner's lips lift in a one-sided smile of her own, private and discreet. Debtless favors certainly sounded sweet to the ear.

" Aesir aren't precisely renewed for our gentle hearts, so I suppose not. I still mourn the stress you must have endured, however. Children are far from being a jolly affair. And the tales we hear as children don't exactly portray Titans as loving parents."

A stratum of blank seriousness shaped Estrid's features, graveness resting heavily on sharp boned cheeks and warm brown eyes. " I fell in love a day after meeting him, " Bestla swallowed hard at the admission. " I knew him for less than a sundown, but I knew he was mine. I was dead, alone and helpless and afraid, and he was too much like me to be a fateless coincidence. Words aren't enough to express it. He was just...Meant to fall, and I to catch him. "

The leafs sang to fill the edged hush musking around them. Estrid pimped the other's empty breathing as anger, for she heaved a sigh long enough to match the twin lack of words on both their parts, and excused her nerve. " Apologies. I don't dare name myself a mother, nor do I starve for anyone's approval, least of all yours. I only wished to say you raised a good son. A son lucky to have a mother like you, for as long as he did."

"...You helped him," Bestla started, chest light and comfortable, not cutting blades piercing her skin as she expected. "Kept food in his mouth, put clothes on his back. You loved him truthfully and protected him fiercely. You're not any less his mother than I."

"...It must be a sour thin all the same, for someone so beloved to greet you as a stranger. For that, I can't help but feel sorry still."

" That's a sentiment we can share. He... Hel, my child, my youngest son. Born at the edge of two worlds that never loved him. They aren't my own, not my blood, not him neither Odin, my kind hearted prince, my little lion boy. And yet, I was not their mother for the simple reason they didnt come from me. Everyone told me so.

They weren't my own, yet I held them at my chest, kissed their skinned knees and elbows, wiped their tears, and chased sickness with handpicked herbs and wet rags because I trusted nobody to do so. No language is enough to describe the love a mother has for their children.

No tongue is enough to put my love in words."

"...Even for Balder?"

Bestla laughs, an odde of heartache and sorrow. " Even him. Love gives no choices, last of all to parents. I still remember the day of his birth. A terrible storm broke the skies that evening, set fire to five houses, left a month's worth of reparations behind. He struggled, I've been told. He kicked and wailed and fought all the way.

I haven't had the chance to even hold him in my arms and he was so eager to run from me. My eyes never saw something more perfect than his tiny ears, his adorable little hands, and feet, his honey hair. He looked so much like me I hardly believed it.

But I felt no different with his brothers. There was a sickness in my mouth, when they were babes and I was forced to be departed from them. I couldn't bear to see them in another's arms, a wet nurse, or a squire, when asked to trust anyone else with them, I was faithless.

When Hel was born, he couldn't be convinced to let me go. He was so quiet, I thought perhaps this world claimed him already. His mother drew her last breath on that bed and I was the one he clung to, the one he hooked his fingers into. One of the King's guards present, he tried to prey him away, do you want to know what I did? I unsheathed a dagger from my thigh, slashed his throat, and watched him die." The confession was a river she scalded into freely.

"Would I insult your intelligence by asking if you're familiar with Sandr?" Bestla asked once Estrid wordlessly raised on her feet. She felt enough security to push her body forward. " Titans held mighty battles there."

A smirk pinched the taller woman's lips. " We were rowdy children, I'll confess. But yes, I know the location. You rebuild beautifully, " dark eyes shaped the bronze scorpio pendant suspended in the middle of Bestla's long neck. " Your family picked a Scorpio as their sigil. They made a fine legacy."

" Oh, it was. The finest. Beautiful, skillful, and yet, terribly lonely. I had 10 siblings. 5 brothers and sisters, however, I confess I felt more like an accessory than a member of a clan. We were strangers to each other. Foreigners with the same name, with our only common factor being our house.

Our country was gorgeous but very poor, you see. We trusted nobody, and in return, our distrust was repaid with hostility. Eventually, when our skin touched bone and we ran out of livestock, we opened the gates to trade. Naturally, we were invaded, our lands stolen, our necks had shackles only we could see.

And I held the key for everyone.

I want you to picture the most powerful man in the world, asking me to marry him," a bitter laughs cracks in her throat, and the wind whips away the water from her eyes. " He had a crown on his head and 50 thousand banner men behind him, with more gold than he could ever need or deserve and 100,000 spikes for our heads alone. What else could I have said?"

Her legs shift, stepping closer to Estrid, eyes as flat as her tone. " What I did, I did because I had to. To defend my people. To defend my family. To defend my blood. Every sacrifice, every drop of blood I've spilled, I did it so the people I love could live the peace I never did."

She advances, every step that's forward to her is one back for Estrid, eyes concentrated intensely on one another with enough fire to make Fire Giants sweat.

"All the sins that I have done. Or had done at my orders? The truths my children don't know, the truths a narrow number of people lived to keep the secret. The kind vicious enough to make fine warriors as yourself lose sleep, if they came to know them.

Perhaps this is my justice. A punishment for survival in a world where living is no bed of roses. But I won't stop helping my children, heart beating or otherwise.

There's a storm coming, My Lady. And I have every intention of ensuring everyone walks dry."

[whatliesabove-blog1]

small, quiet room

Chapter twelve | ao3

"No?" Jonathan grits out, eyes a little wild. "I'm—I just found out that the person I thought was my dad for my entire life isn't and you just say no? Mom..."

"Jonathan, honey," she starts. Her fingers squeeze his and this time he does pull away, instead runs them through his hair. "I know... I know this is a lot and it's something you should've known from the start—"

He snorts. "Yeah, I think I should have." Exhaling, he looks at her with a shrug. "So who is it, then? Who's my dad?"

Joyce hesitates, mouth opened slightly but no sound coming out. Pulling her lips together, she swallows, gives her son a look of complete sympathy. Mixed with guilt. Definitely some guilt. 

She doesn't... she needs to tell him, she knows, but she just can't help but feel like she needs to tell someone else first.

"He's... Listen, sweetheart, I promise I'm going to tell you," she assures him, and he gives her an incredulous look, one she hasn't seen in her seventeen years as his mother. It's not a look she wants to see ever again.

"But you're not going to tell me now," he surmises, sliding back. The chair screeches against the tiled flooring and makes her wince.

Instinctively she reaches out to grab at his arm to keep him from leaving. She doesn’t want to let him go, can't let him run off right now, not when emotions are so high and she doesn't know what he'll do to blow of steam.

"Jonathan, please."

"Please what," he asks, his shoulders slumped in what looks to be almost defeat. She doesn't want that either. "Please... understand that you've kept a huge secret from me? Please stay and listen to you not tell me who my father is?"

"I will, baby, I'm going to tell you," she promises, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. They're from both sadness and frustration and she doesn't even know which one is the dominant emotion right now. "But I need to..."

Something like realization sparks in his eyes. "He doesn't know, does he? That he has a kid?"

That's a loaded question; he doesn't know he has another kid, more like it, but she won't make the distinction right now. He'll figure it out soon enough, as soon as he knows who his father is.

"Does he know about me?" he asks again, rephrasing it this time in hopes she'll break the silence she's taken on.

"No," she croaks, accompanied by the tiniest shake of her head. Averting her gaze, she can't look at her son. "He doesn't know."

Jonathan makes a pained little noise in the back of his throat and when she chances a glance up, he's shaking his head, rubbing at the back of his neck with one of his hands. He's always been so much older, wiser than his years, but right now he looks like a small boy.

"At least I can't hold that against him then," he muses, and a sharp jolt goes through her chest at the insinuation that he might hold this against her. She can't say she'd blame him, not after how long she's kept something so monumental from him, but she hopes beyond hope he won't. Not for long, at least. "I'm strangely glad I wasn't the only one kept in the dark."

Standing from her chair, she takes a step towards Jonathan but he backs away, effectively splintering her heart down the middle.

"Jonathan..."

Her voice is shaky, eyes watery, and her hands tremble where they reach out at nothing before curling into her chest.

"I just need some time, okay," he says, rubbing harshly at his eyes. He moves his hands around, gestures at nothing in particular, before blowing out a frustrated breath. "I need to go... think this through." 

She opens her mouth to say something but he shakes his head. 

"I'm not doing anything stupid."

"Okay," she says, her voice a light rasp, because that's all she can say.

As much as she doesn’t want to, she owes it to him to let him go, to let him process what he's just learned in his own way and his own space. She gets that; it doesn't mean she won't worry, won't panic herself into another anxiety attack until he returns and she knows he's safe and sound.

Without another word he moves around her, grabs his bag from where he'd put it earlier, and closes the door. It slams louder than she knows he intended it to; he's not an angry kid. A little broody, sure, and he has his moments, but furiously slamming a door has never been his thing.

She doesn't think much of it and slides back down into the chair, tears on her cheeks and her face in her open palms.

While she knew Jonathan wouldn't exactly be happy about the news if he found out, she did think he'd take it a little better. Then again, maybe he handled it exactly as she'd expect. Some frustration, some betrayal in those eyes, but he didn't scream or throw things. That was always Lonnie's way of dealing with conflict; Jonathan's quieter, more likely to run through everything in that busy head of his first.

"Mom?"

Snapping her head up, she hastily swipes beneath her eyes before turning to look at her boy. "Hi, honey," she says. The sniffle and red-rimmed eyes, matched with the tear stains on her cheeks, give her away, but she musters a smile for him anyway.

He shouldn't have to be pulled into this.

"What's wrong?" Will asks, taking a few slow steps towards her. "Where'd Jonathan go? I heard you guys yelling."

"We just—there's something I have to talk to Jonathan about and he needs some time to process it first."

His big eyes, such replicas of her own, look thoughtfully at her. "Is it... something bad? Is he in trouble?"

"No, baby," she promises, wrapping one arm around his waist to pull him closer. "He's not in trouble, and it's not something bad. It's just something different, and something that'll be an adjustment for all of us."

"Me too?"

Joyce pauses, considers her next move. In a way it does affect Will. 

Once Hopper and Jonathan know the truth, there are so many ways this could play out. They could both want to get to know each other in this new way; one could want that while the other could want nothing to do with it; both of them could choose to keep things how they are and change nothing about the dynamics. She truly hopes it's not the middle option, because if it is she knows it'll be Hopper rejecting Jonathan and not the other way around—she knows he's upset now, but she has a feeling Jonathan will come around—and she doesn't know if he can deal with that. She doesn't know if she can.

Then, of course, Hopper could be furious with her and choose to cut ties. This would result in a new level of awkward and tense, and could potentially influence the time El spends in her house and therefore with Will.

She really hopes that doesn't happen, especially after how close they've gotten recently, but Hop has every right to be angry.

If he chooses to cut her off she can only hope it'll either be temporary or, if all else fails, they leave the kids out of it. They don't have to suffer for a choice she made nearly two decades ago, long before they were even born.

"Yeah," she finally breathes, "it might affect you too, sweetie."

Will nods a little, then turns to wrap his other arm around her shoulder and give her a real hug. "It'll be okay," he says, his voice so confident and pure she can't help the small sob that breaks free.

"I hope so, Will," she admits into his neck, squeezing him tighter. "Thank you."

She needs to tell Hopper.

She 100%, absolutely, positively needs to tell Hopper, both because he deserves to know and because she needs to tell Jonathan but she can't feel content doing that until Hopper knows. Ignoring the million and one ways this colossal shit show wouldn't be happening if she'd just listened to Karen that day in the diner, she gathers every ounce of pride she has and chucks it out the window.

This isn't about her, it's about her son. Everything that happens from here on out has to be done in Jonathan's best interest and with his feelings in mind.

That's how she finds herself sitting in the police station's parking lot in her little green car. She hasn't gotten out yet, but she feels even driving here and pulling into the lot is a pretty big first step.

She told Will that she had to go take care of a few errands and made sure he was comfortable staying at home for what could be a few hours, depending on how the errands pan out. He, of course, assured her he was fine and would be fine for however long they took.

With trepidation, Joyce looked into the bathroom mirror at her reflection. She felt seventeen years old again, staring at herself, all puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. She cleaned her face and, with a soft hand, re-applied what little makeup she wore to make herself feel like a functioning adult. It's a placebo effect, of that she has no doubt, but it makes her feel even a little more put together than she actually is.

And when her entire life seems to be cracking at the seams, crumbling from the top down and barely being held together with glue and tape, she'll welcome anything that can make it seem a little less chaotic, a little less broken.

After ten minutes, she turns off the car and slings her small bag over her shoulder. Step two.

Step three is getting out of the car, which she manages after another five minutes of psyching herself up.

She's carried on shaky legs down the sidewalk and through the front doors, and when she's greeted by Flo with a slightly bewildered look (whether by her disheveled, despite her best efforts, appearance, or by her mere presence alone she has no idea) and a hi, Joyce, she almost loses it.

Every fiber of her being is screaming at her to run, her flight response kicking into high gear, but she stands her ground.

"Hi, Flo," she greets warmly, offering the woman a smile. "Is Hopper in?"

"I think he's just run out for a coffee, honey," Flo says. "Complains about the sludge here day in and day out, and I finally told him to buy his own if he's so bothered."

Joyce laughs, a real laugh, because Flo's sass is exactly the change of pace she needs right now. "Ah," she breathes, her lips curled upwards. "Typical Hop."

"You can say that again," Flo replies, already busying herself with something or another. "I'm not sure how long he'll be but you can wait in his office if you're going to hang around. Sure he won’t mind."

Nodding, she leaves the main area and walks the familiar path to Hopper's office. She hasn't been in here since Will was gone, and lowering herself into that chair brings back painful memories of waiting while her boy’s well-being remained up in the air. Of anxious energy all bottled in her body as she forced herself to sit as rigid as she could; any sudden movements threatened to break the seal, to let the nerves out with no way to stop them.

Joyce feels a little like that now.

It's twenty minutes before she hears the familiar grumble of Hopper's deep voice down the hall, and in those twenty minutes she's managed to work herself into a near frenzy. Contained as it may be, relegated to simply her mind and the energy seeping from her fingertips, it's thrumming with every beat of her heart.

"Joyce."

Twisting in the chair, startled despite knowing he was coming, she looks at him. She must look as deer-in-the-headlights as she feels because he merely blinks at her for a few seconds, concern building behind his features, before moving forward.

"What's wrong?" he asks, gaze intense.

She clears her throat, rights herself in her seat and waits for Hop to round his desk. "It's Jonathan."

"Where is he? Is he okay?" Hopper asks. He leans forward, elbows propped on a stack of papers as he waits for more information.

"I don't know," she says honestly.

"You don't know where he is or if he's okay?"

She hopes he's okay, but there's no real way to know; she wouldn't blame him if he's not.

"No," she admits, but then her eyes are screwing shut in frustration, head shaking. "No, but he's not—it's nothing like that. It's not like Will."

"Okay." He drags the word out, brows furrowed. "I'm not following."

Blowing a breath out, she locks eyes with him. "He's... upset with me, for good reason, and he's gone somewhere to think. To process some things."

"So he's just blowing off some steam. I know you worry about those boys and hey, I get it, but Jonathan's a smart kid. He'll come back when he's ready."

She watches as he relaxes, leans back in his chair because he thinks that's it, that's all she came for. Just Joyce being a little overprotective of her son. 

She almost laughs in spite of herself; she wishes it were that easy.

"I know, I'm not worried about Jonathan coming home. I mean—I know he will," she amends. Nothing's coming out how she wanted it to. "He's rightfully upset, so I'll give him as long as he needs."

"Jeez, Joyce, what'd you do to the poor kid?" Hopper laughs. Wincing, she can feel the tears prick at the backs of her eyelids. When she doesn't laugh with him, doesn't make a quip and instead blinks in an attempt to keep the waterworks at bay, he reaches forward. "What is it?"

"What Jonathan found out is something I should've told him a long time ago," she breathes, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "It's something I should've told you, too, and you're—you're gonna hate me, Hop."

"What?" he scoffs. "What'd the kid find out?"

Slow and steady, Joyce.

"They did blood typing tests in their biology class today."

Hopper's face pales a little. "Did something come back? Is he sick?"

She shakes her head quickly. "No, no. It's nothing like that," she assures him. "Jonathan's fine. It was just a test that tells them their blood types."

"Oh," he says, confusion laced in his tone. "He didn't know his blood type before?"

"No. But that's not—that's not the point," she sighs. She takes a steeling breath; this isn’t his fault. "Jonathan's A+. I'm B- and Lonnie's A-."

Hopper groans, rubbing at his eyes. "I've barely had my coffee, Joyce, I don't know what any of this means."

"Two parents with negative blood types can't have a baby with a positive blood type," she grinds out quickly, rattling off the information Jonathan had told her earlier, information she'd previously been unaware of.

It clicks.

"Jonathan's not Lonnie's son."

Joyce gives a small shake of her head. "No."

She can tell the gears are turning in his head by the conflicted, far away look on his face. He's not looking at her but at a spot far past her left shoulder, eyes a little squinted. Looking down, she watches his fingers curl and uncurl around one of the pencils on his desk.

"That's why you asked me what my blood type was, isn't it? Not because you saw something about rare blood types."

"Yes."

His breathing quickens, as if he didn’t expect her to say he was right. 

"Is he...” His forehead wrinkles. “Is Jonathan..." 

Her chin quivers as her eyes lift to his, everything he needs to know written in the dark brown of her glassy gaze. Hopper leans harshly back against his chair, nearly toppling it backwards before he rights himself. The pencil bends in his grip. 

“I don’t even know what I’m... supposed to say to that," he gets out. He doesn’t look at her, and it hits her all at once that he probably can’t. “Fuck, Joyce.”

They’re silent for a few moments and she almost wishes he’d say something else. Anything else. Yell, scream, something. 

The silence is deafening and it’s gnawing at her.

"I know—"

"No, you don't," he snaps, finally, eyes flying to hers, and oh. There’s a spark burning in them she's never seen before; not a warm, calm flame, but one that crackles and pops until it's a full blown explosion. "You kept this from me for seventeen years. A son. Our son. My son."

Hearing Hopper refer to Jonathan as our son nearly does her in. Her heart constricts painfully in her chest and suddenly it’s a little hard to breathe.

"Why?" She opens her mouth, doesn't know what she's going to say but ready to say it anyway, when he holds up a hand. "Actually no; no, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you kept my kid from me, Joyce."

Hopper stands from his chair, scrubs a hand down his face, and she's so terrified he's going to walk out that she nearly flies out of her own seat. She stands in front of him, extends an arm to put a hand on his forearm but he jerks it out of her reach.

Joyce swallows back the lump in her throat.

"Does he know?"

"No," she whispers. "That's part of why he's upset, because I wouldn't tell him who it was yet. I wanted to—I wanted to tell you first."

He lets out a mirthless laugh and it's so unlike him, so cold it freezes the blood in her veins.

"Now you want to tell me," he muses, putting his hat back onto his head. "After the kid found out and you were pushed into a corner."

"Hop, please..."

"I need to go. I need to—I can't be here right now." Moving around her, he dodges any of her attempts to touch him. When he does look at her, it's one part anger and one part pure sadness and it threatens to cripple her right there. "I can't be around you right now, Joyce."

Her face falls, hot tears cascading down her cheeks, but she lifts one hand to her mouth and manages the smallest of nods. 

She doesn't look at him.

"If I stay, I'll do something I regret, so I have to..." His voice trails off, and then he's gone, disappearing down the hall in quick strides until he's completely out of sight.

Joyce hiccups, every ounce of composure she had crumbling, bit by bit, until it's an avalanche. She sobs into her palm, her entire body shaking as she leans against the closest solid object and slides to the floor. Legs curled up to her chest, she lets her head fall back until it slams into the wooden side of the desk.

Staring at the ceiling, she doesn't even try to wipe at her face, knows she hasn’t cried herself out yet and it’ll be a waste.

At least, she thinks to herself, he said he can't be around her right now. The phrasing implies there will be a time, hopefully in the near future, that he will be able to be around her.

It's all she can hope for.