#one of those 3am thoughts that just. stick

[lemonatethemoongod]

'prince' who doesnt realise shes trans until after shes kissed the frog

[poeticpascal]

White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain

A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!

It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.

The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.

Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.

Which is good, because things get messy a lot.

Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.

No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul. 

No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.

That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.

He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.

He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.

Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.

So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.

Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.

He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.

“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”

Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”

The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go. 

One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.

“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.

There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.

“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”

Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.

“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”

Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again. 

He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”

“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”

Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”

He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.

Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.

Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.

The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.

Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.

“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.

“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”

“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.

“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”

Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem-” 

With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.

Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.

This was going to be a long night.

—------------------

It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.

He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.

The most important thing was that he found the meds.

The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.

“Joel?”

There you are.

It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.

“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.

You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.

He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.

“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.

The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.

“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.

Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.

A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.

He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.

“How was today? Doing the sewage?”

Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.

“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”

He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see. 

“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.

“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”

He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.

You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.

“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.

“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.

You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.

“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”

Oh, babygirl, he thinks.

Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.

So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.

He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”

That gets his attention. “Scary things?”

“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”

Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.

“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.

“I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.

If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.

It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.

His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.

He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.

You are worth it.

And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

please don't kill me mr ghostface (part 1)

(AO3 Mirror), (Main Masterlist), (Kinktober '23 Masterlist)

(Part 2 - coming soon!)

pairing: stalker!Miguel x f!reader, slight yandere undertones. (he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)

summary: murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?

warnings: 18+ , fingering, anal play (mig eats ass, send tweet!) , rimming, p in v, soft dom mig, some switchy + needy behaviour, mild threat of violence (not by mig), alcohol consumption. Minors DNI

a/n: 5k words of ignoring red flags. girl get a grip!

wc: 5.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You look too good to feel this shitty. 

That's the thought you're left with, picking at flimsy spiderwebs draped on a sofa. Sandwiched between two couples making out like their life depends on it, of course, but that's beside the point. 

“Someone said there's CCTV of a guy walking out the building at 3am… seems a little convenient, if you ask me…”

There's a TV on in the background, barely cutting through the dense chatter. By this point, your eyes have glazed over, trying not to let them rattle around in your skull. Drunken conversation around you, and it's the same thing as always; long, winding tales of a campus killer - the kind out of a cheesy slasher. What the news says, officially, is that there weren't any links between those 3 bodies that turned up out on the playing field, an empty dorm, a supply closet; but it hasn't stopped people from indulging in wild speculation. 

“No, no, she just didn't turn up to my Econ class….I swear–” 

Stay in pairs. Don't walk alone at night. Whilst you think it's all tangential at best, you're not one to tempt fate. The gossip, you could do without. But it doesn't hurt to keep yourself safe, pepper spray nestled in your usual bag. 

Tonight, however, you've left it at home, thinking the friends you came with would be enough. Somewhere, somehow, they're off chugging shit beer and you're milling about the place and sinking into couch cushions. There's something sticky by the seat, and there's a crackle as you're jostled - the sharp edge of a stray elbow almost knocks your drink away. 

Fuck.

For one night only, you're a cheerleader. A short, short skirt and little top; it has you feeling overdressed. Even though you've left the pompoms at home, next to your taser; seemingly, you've read the mood wrong - stupidly assuming people would dress up for a Halloween party. As you make your way to the kitchen, tugging down your skirt here and there, that's all you can see; half-hearted costumes - cat ears, white sheets and flimsy masks. It feels like you stick out in comparison. You've gone all out, with nothing but the threat of a beer sodden lap for your trouble. 

It's a big house. Alpha-delta-phi, kappa-something-or-the-other; a frat with too much money and too much time on their hands. With all the doors you walk past, shallow thuds and thumping ringing out behind them, you're as good as lost. The best ragers this side of campus - as raved about by one of your friends. It feels like bucketfuls of horseshit right now, wandering around packed halls - and oh. Is that the same staircase? 

“ Fuck, watch it!” You clatter into the side of an arm, a t-shirt with a superman symbol emblazoned at the chest. He's pretty, but his features curl into a sudden sneer. 

" Sorry –" You start but he doesn't let you finish, wagging a thick finger in your face. 

There's a girl draped on his arm, merely watching as he shouts; loud over pumping music from the next room over. 

"Hey, dipshit , you gonna keep staring? Mouth open like a fucking fish– do you know how much this shit costs?" Your eyes are wide, as he gets closer - stinking of alcohol and pot and God knows what else. You're not drunk enough to entertain this, shirking away from confrontation. The room is hot, his breath is sticky , and–

He grabs your arm. Immediately you're trying to wrench yourself away, not daring to look into blown pupils. Clammy, his grip tightens on bare skin and your stomach churns. He's solid, bigger than you and unable to keep the anger out of his voice…. and fuck. You're scared. 

Fear, rising like bile at the back of your throat. Bitter and sharp, fear at the fact that there isn't anyone to help; that everyone else looks away and pretends that this isn't happening. Fear at the spittle that sprays from his mouth like poison, stinging skin. You screw your eyes shut, expecting a slap, a blow, or something worse and then… 

Thud. The hand around your wrist is no more, replaced by a gentle pat on your shoulder. Nothing lingering, just a light touch to get you to open your eyes; to see that guy on the floor, clutching at a swollen jaw and split lip. 

"You okay? " 

It's deep, muffled by a mask, and the figure in front of you has to crouch to be heard over incessant chatter. 

You're nodding, sheepishly, not trusting yourself to keep that edge out of your voice. 

Ghostface, the masked man, the only other person at this party properly dressed up; he only cocks his head in a gesture that says a thousand words. His robe pools around his wrists, thick fabric that you grab onto without thinking, grip just as tight as your would-be assailant. You don't even want to think about it, what could've happened if someone hadn't stepped in. It has you biting back tears, more shaken than you'd like to admit. 

"H-Hey, hey, easy…" He's rubbing little circles into your shoulder, hesitant. Your lip wobbles, ever so slightly, but he catches it, gently pulling you aside. 

There isn't a crowd. The stragglers, those that saw the display, barely look at the guy on the floor, scrambling to his feet and far away. In the meantime, you fight off tears and force yourself to flash a shaky smile. 

"Good. " You croak, taking his hands off your shoulders. "F-Fuck , I mean… I'm good. Thank you."

He doesn't quite budge, giving you that strange look again. At least, you think so, rearing up to his full height to cross his arms. Quiet incredulity, almost cartoonish, and it almost makes you laugh. Almost. 

"Let me get you a drink… some water, or something." He says, stretching out a gloved hand. Sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, "... Please ."

Chewing your lip, you only have to think for a second before taking it, and you're led out through double doors. Your masked man is big; broad shouldered and hulking, cutting through the writhing mass with ease. It's just as well, you think, unable to sort through the tangle of things that rattle around in your head. You hate this fucking school, sometimes. Boys will be boys. Wear more appropriate clothing. Well, wasn't she just asking for it?  A culture of inaction; of hand-wringing and hand-waving… passing on the blame until three dead bodies show up on campus. 

That's one thing you have to thank the so-called serial killer for, at least. At least something might actually change around here. 

Empty, the kitchen is a mess, but nothing you wouldn't expect. Drink long gone; a distant memory spilled on a carpet, somewhere; you perch awkwardly around a counter, not knowing where to put your hands. Rattled, you've resorted to a glassy stare; stewing and festering and thinking so intensely it might frighten off your masked man. 

It doesn't. He merely taps you, a gentle elbow to your side and he offers you a glass of water. Weakly, you give him a smile, gulping up the liquid. 

"You here by yourself ?" He asks, muffled by plastic. 

You can't help it, eyes wide at the implication - a masked man, a killer on campus - and he must realise the way it sounds. 

In no time at all, he clarifies, "I just mean… fuck … is there someone I can call? So you're not alone."

It's a kind gesture. Kinder than you'd expect from a stranger. Slowly, you shake your head. 

"They ditched me about an hour ago." You give a bitter laugh. "Just me and you, Mr Ghostface."

And with that he laughs; deep and sonorous, causing heat to bloom at your chest. Despite yourself, you smile, and you swear you see a glint of something behind the mask. 

It has you itching for a drink. All of a sudden you make your way across the room, swiping at empty beer bottles and cans, rummaging around for some hard liquor. When you find it - a half empty bottle of something that smells like carpet cleaner and acetone - you're taking a swig, and offering it to the man across from you. It's sneaky, but you don't think he clocks your paltry attempt to see what he looks like under that mask. 

He shakes his head, hands up in defeat. 

"You sure?" Your voice is lilting, hazy around the edges. Creeping up closer, you press your body to his, taking another unceremonious gulp. Under that cloak - heavy, somewhat well made - you can feel him, lean and cut muscle that tenses as you get closer. 

Batting your eyelashes, you make full use of the cheerleader get-up, snaking a dainty hand to his side, and then up to the counter. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was ogling you, chest taught and tight at the way you feel against him. 

Or maybe, he's bored as shit. You wouldn't know - with the mask, and all. 

Wobbly, you clamber up onto the counter, helped up by a gentle hand at the small of your back… and oh. You like that: big, thick fingers that press into you, carefully tracing your waist… and why won't they go down a little further? Grab handfuls of the flesh at your thighs, your ass, everything in between? 

He's too conservative for that, you think. Nervous, too. Nevertheless, he slots between your thighs, big palms flat next to your ass. 

"I… I don't mind watching." He says, voice low. 

It makes you giggle as you drink, sweet and soft, and liquid dribbles past your lips, down to collarbone. Mr Ghostface is gentle, tracing a finger across the juncture of your neck, light pressure on the vein that sits nice and pretty at its side. 

It goes to your head. The alcohol, the large man of few words with a hand on your neck. When he finishes swiping at the liquid and pulls his hand away, you curl your hand around his, bringing it to your lips. Pert lips wrap around his finger, tongue swiping over leather, and you swear you can hear his breath hitch - heart clearly skipping a beat. 

"Careful…" You say, leaning forward to press your tits against him, brushing away imaginary fluff from his shoulders. "I really like this costume."

"I like it too." He clears his throat. "You look nice."

"Nice? Is that all I get, Mr Ghostface?" You're teasing, tracing up his broad chest to his neck and then just under his chin. Carefully, you hook a finger under the thin strap of his mask, tugging ever-so gently. 

Quickly, he stops you. 

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You pout, flashing him a frustrated look - and God , does he want to kiss it off of you. 

"But soon?" 

"If you're good." You swear you can hear him smile, hands wrapping around your waist. 

You get a bit bolder, hand tracing up his sleeve, clutching at thick, corded forearm. Watching intently as he keens, pushing you to the edge of the kitchen counter with only one hand at your back. This close, you even like the way he smells, like rust and oil and earth, the way he feels around you; strong arms caging you in, protecting you. You feel safe, for some reason. 

When he sighs into you, exposing a sliver of tan neck, you feel your knees go weak - unable to stop yourself from mouthing at it, pressing little kisses into the skin. He seems so sensitive, rocking into the counter for some pressure already, clutching you closer and closer until there's a hickey blooming just under sharp jawline. 

"Fuck- " He hisses, pawing at your waist a little more desperately. 

Suddenly self conscious, you separate with a wet smack, and inspect your handiwork. 

"Shit." Eyes wide, you press a finger into the flesh. Your masked man winces. "M'sorry. Got carried away."

He heaves, placing his head on your shoulder for a moment, trying to catch his breath. 

"It's fine," He strains. "Don't worry… s'fine."

Admittedly, he doesn't seem too fine, adjusting what feels like a painful hard-on beneath a loose cloak. 

Cradling his head so he can look at you, you whisper something bold, even for someone who's downed more than a couple shots worth of cheap liquor. 

"I know somewhere… I-I think … that we could go if you wanted to…" His head lolls, and you hear him swallow roughly. "Somewhere quiet . We'd be alone. Just us."

A beat passes and you think you might've read this wrong, much too forward for your own good. It’s why he surprises you by nodding - slowly, at first, and then with more conviction. Taking your hand, he snakes it under his mask, and you almost gasp when you feel soft, plump lips at your knuckles and palm, pressing shaky kisses to the skin.

“I need to do something first.” He says it so quietly, you almost miss it under the mask. “Where can I meet you?”

You don’t ask questions. 

“Pool house.” You nod towards the windows, overlooking a sizable pool. People mill about its edges, but you know the little house is off-limits for the night. “Side entrance. They… leave it unlocked, sometimes.”

He doesn’t ask questions. 

Before he goes, he snakes a hand under your skirt, giving your ass a sizable squeeze - leaving you breathless. 

You don’t feel the cold as you slip out, playing with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt. The side entrance is stiff but unlocked, and you duck past a screen, head on a swivel. Like a good girl, you sit on plush cushions, thighs pressed together to relieve a pressure that has been building since you met your masked man. And you want to touch yourself; to circle that little bud with clumsy fingers, imagining it was him.

You wait. And you wait. You settle between the cushions, adjust your skirt, look at your hair through a makeshift mirror - the glossy surface of windows overlooking the pool. Not wanting to risk turning on the lights, you wander past what little streams in from across the pool; flashing and pounding with the heady bass of music. You can't help but wonder where he's gone, if he's even coming, and what he had to do so desperately that he'd leave you wanting more. 

At this point, you don't even care if he takes off his mask. You don't want to know a name, or see the real man underneath the costume. You just want him; writhing underneath as you bounce on his fat cock. 

"Hey." 

That voice makes you jump, swiveling to face him. How did he get in without you noticing? He was so quiet, so–

"Missed you." He says it so soft, it makes you melt, walking slowly towards him. Shrouded in shadow, as you get closer you notice he's shed his cloak, donned in a white t-shirt and straight leg jeans. Big boots, thick with fresh mud, thud onto the tile. When you meet, two figures cut by bright light, you almost gasp. He's taken off the mask. Instead of Mr Ghostface, you're met with a man - and he is so, so beautiful . 

Tan skin. High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. His hair is haphazardly slicked back, fluffy and curly in all the right places. But it's his eyes: mischievous and glinting and serious all at the same time - absolutely gorgeous. You could look at him like this forever; chest heaving, messy, out of breath. 

Your hand comes to his chest. He’s hot to the touch, clasping his great big hand atop yours. Squeezing, he pulls you closer, other hand creeping up bare thigh, before hooking under your ass in a move that makes you squeal.

From this close, his lashes look so pretty; wispy and romantic and yearning.

"You look beautiful.”  He doesn’t kiss you, not yet, content with only watching - studying you with sharp eyes. “Always do."

All you hear are the compliments, too tipsy to notice what the stranger implies. You're not usually one for a one night stand, but he is intoxicating - intense in a way that's hard to explain. 

Carding one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, you press your lips to his in a kiss that starts off sweet and quickly deepens. He is hungry and devouring; licking up your moans with plump lips. 

You lead him to the sofa, only separating for fleeting breaths. Eyes low, illuminated by a flash of light here and there; you force yourself to concentrate on him , shuddering breaths and all. He’s hard, rocking into your lower half splayed out beneath him and arms caged around your head. It’s sly, but you snake a hand past his t-shirt, across his back and then fumble with the belt. It makes him smile, soft laughter spilling into your parted lips; before he sits up above you.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Windswept, he croons, batting away your hands to unbuckle the clasp himself.

You groan, shifting upwards. You don’t notice the way his eyes dart down, eying up the peek of thigh that spills out of little shorts. 

“Say it f’me, sweetheart.” He hikes up your skirt, exposing your covered cunt. He’s gentle, pawing at the flesh, pressing the heel of his palm right above your clit.

“F-Fuck!” The pressure is delicious, and you roll your hips up, up, up; chasing some semblance of relief. When he stops, you whine - clutching at his forearm, frustrated. “Want it, please .”

“Want what?” He prompts, lifting his shirt over his head in one quick movement. You’re met with the wide span of his chest, muscle taut and tight above you.

“Want you in me. I want… I want you to fuck me ‘til I break, pound my fucking hole so hard I can feel it in the morning. I want– ”

You’re babbling, now, spurred on by the way he tugs off black shorts, lifting up your legs to slip them off. He’s too slow, clearly enjoying watching you squirm and writhe. 

“You can have it, sweetheart.” He coos, before capturing you into another kiss. This time, he separates and you follow him up; finally parting with a wet smack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it… but you gotta do something first.”

“ Anything .” You breathe.

“Fuck yourself, for me. I…I–”

“You like to watch.” You finish it for him, breathless.

“Please.” His head dips low; big, red-brown eyes never leaving yours. 

The way he says it leaves you panting, hung off of every word. And you croon, leaning back into couch cushions, already hot at the way he kneads his thumbs to the flesh near your pussy. This close, he can see the way your cunt pulses, eating up a tiny thong between glistening lips. He’s kneeling on the floor, now, snaking his body around to get a perfect view, flashing looks between both your pretty lips. 

More than willing to oblige, you pat at your clit, sending sweet pleasure coursing through your lower half. Even though your legs tremble, he holds you down, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. Slipping your thong to the side, you dip two fingers past your slit, gathering up slick to press carefully into your hole.

“So… so pretty. ” He sighs, not daring to close his eyes despite the pleasure he feels. When you notice how his other hand is buried in his pants; jerking up and down to match your pace. You start slow, for now, pumping two fingers in and out, heel of your palm snug against your clit. The sounds are obscene, the wet schlick-schlick ringing out in the quiet room. 

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever s-seen.” Your stranger moans, slathering over your thighs with sloppy kisses, occasionally swiping at your knuckles. Lower and lower, as you get faster and faster, his tongue makes you feel amazing. You’re close - entranced by your spot in the limelight and the sharp eyes that watch every ministration. 

It’s only when you’re knuckle deep, well and truly fucking yourself ; chasing something just out of reach with his help; when two things happen, catching you by surprise. The first, the one that sends electricity down your spine, that makes you jolt and shiver and almost cum right then and there…

…is a wet kiss pressed to your asshole. He slathers and slobbers and licks large stripes up and down; ripping a great moan out from you. He doesn’t stop there, spreading the globes of your ass to delve deeper, tongue-fucking you as your hand stills - unable to concentrate on anything else. Pornographic, he humps his lower half to the same pace, sealing his mouth over your hole. With the vibrations of his moans sending pleasure straight to your clit, you finally cum - a rolling, bubbling orgasm that ends just as intensely. 

The second thing that happens, just as you fall off the edge, is that you’re plunged into darkness. The lights from across the pool, once bright and flashing; are cut off. The music stops, and chatter dies down. Your stranger holds you through it, licking up cum from your neglected cunt, whispering sweet things into the skin.

“There it is, baby. Nice n’ slow.” He soothes as you whimper, hand tight in his hair. 

In the dark, you’re heaving, feeling him slow down as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty. Shaky, you sit up on your haunches as he follows you up.

“Is everything…? What happened?” You’re a little panicked, shaken up from your orgasm. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay. ” He rubs little circles into bare skin. “Too much?”

You shake your head, nuzzling into him. He gives your forehead a kiss, and you feel warmth bloom across your chest.

He shifts. “Just give it a…”

As if on cue, a generator whirs to life, flooding the little room in red light. Something similar seems to happen across the pool, as you take a quick glance to the window.

Your head is a little fuzzy. It aches as you catch his eye, looking at you intently.  

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”

“No.” You say it resolutely, with so much force it even catches you off guard. “I want to.”

“Fuck.” He mutters, brows pressed together imperceptibly. 

For someone you’ve just met, he still looks at you like ice about to melt, like he’s bearing witness to the last breaths of a dying star. He looks at you like he knows you; like he knows how many half-truths and one-night stands you’ve had to endure. It makes you shiver; here, bathed in crimson light, pressed against one another.

He starts with your lips, a gentle thumb pressed flat, and then deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s like before, you realise, the taste of liquor and leather long gone. He keeps his eyes on you, careful as he pops the thumb out, groaning at the length of spit that comes with a flash of your pink tongue. You splay yourself out underneath him, drinking in the sight above; your stranger, your masked man once upon a time, shirtless and breathless and rock hard against your cunt. Now, he tugs down black boxers, its band cut across his torso just so. Thick hair; dark, curly, neatly trimmed; and you reach to trace down his happy trail, to get a hand on his pretty cock.

He just watches , eyes dark, leaning forward to rock into your soft palm and put his mouth on the skin that pillows out from a tight crop top. To give him more access, you tug it down, exposing sensitive nipple. And then that tongue; searching, inquisitive, precise; wraps itself around the flesh. You keen - a pretty moan that has his heart fluttering and eyes clasped shut.

“Inside.” At first, it’s a whisper, said in the throes of deep pleasure. You repeat it, slowing your hand at his cock. 

When he doesn’t answer; still slathering at your tits, pawing the flesh that spills out from your costume; you tug, a sharp thing that has him moaning and sitting up on  his haunches.

“Said I wanted you inside, baby.” You say - and his breaths are deep, his eyes are wild. “Do you want it? Do you want me?”

“A-Always….course I— ” He stops himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nods and you continue, satisfied.

“Watch.” You titter, reaching down to line him up; carefully gathering slick up at the head of his cock. His tip weeps; shuddering like your stranger does above, getting close and hitching up you up to stay flush against you. His eyes stay trained downward. Inside, he mouths at your neck, groaning once his cock sinks into your fluttering hole.

There’s a tightening grip at your hips, big hands bunching up the skirt to keep you close, with a careful pressure at your clit. That sends heat coursing through your veins, tasting deep crimson in the air. He fucks; up close and humping like he wants to crawl into your skin, with a fervour you’ve never encountered before. It has you hot and sticky, desperate for that biting edge that keeps slipping from dainty fingers. You start to put a hand at your clit, tracing between your bodies when a strong hand pulls it away. Firm.

“No, no, no…” He whispers it, putting your wandering hand to his face, kissing the palm.

“Please. ” You whine. “M’close. So close.”

You feel him twitch inside, hips stuttering at your tone.

“No.” He says it again, resolute. “I’m going to make you cum. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart… just… just be patient. Please. For me .”

You’re reaching up for a kiss, of which he obliges. This time, it stays sweet; pink tongues swiped over lips.

“Look at me.” His hips shift, changing angles to hit that sweet spot like you’ve been moulded to his dick - like he knows just where to touch you to make you fall apart. “Look at me, hermosa. Ohh f-fuck, you take me so well… so pretty. You gonna milk my cock? Feels so good around me, sweetheart, like you were made for me. Like we’re ... L-Like–”

You groan, unable to tear yourself away from his writhing form: strong, lean muscles, tensing in the red light. And oh, isn’t he pretty, mere moments away from release, from spilling thick cum inside you.

“M’gonna–”

“I know, I know, hermosa. ” You like the way he says it, rolling off his tongue like honey; treacled and sweet. “Cum f’me, sweetheart. Want to feel you clamp around my cock. Cum for me. ”

And just like that, you’re gone; nails digging into his back as you careen off a steep cliff’s edge. Your stranger quickly follows, pulling out to wrap a tight hand around the base of his cock, spilling onto your stomach as you clench around nothing.

You’re whining, getting ready to complain; why hasn’t he come inside? why doesn’t he want to stay?; when he stills, settling by your side. Propped up by one arm, he crouches down to stroke at your cheek, to touch your jaw, moving your head this way and that - as if he’s looking for something hidden behind bright eyes.

In the red of the emergency lights, you suppose you’re looking for something too. A beat passes, and then another. The generator splutters, whirring and coughing. The lights turn off; replaced by the noise and white lights from across the pool.

So lost in one another, you hadn’t quite noticed; everything else falling away. 

He clears his throat, clambering off of the sofa and tugging up his trousers. Quickly, he returns, a bundle of towels draped across his bare shoulders, and then he wipes off the cum - gently, separating sweaty limbs. Your costume is more or less intact, but you’re unable to do more than just lay there. He’s diligent and patient, not in any sort of rush. When you sit up, he pulls on a shirt, kneeling by your legs to play with a loose thread at your skirt. Too intimate, you suppose. With his head on your lap, you don’t think you care. 

“We should leave.” You say it first, what’s been left in the air for someone else to pick apart. 

“We should.” 

“Can’t leave together.” You say simply, curling a hand in his hair. 

Humming, he looks up lazily, with a hint of a smile. “You go first.”

Neither of you make a move to get up.

“Mr Ghostface,” You start, giggling. “What happened to your mask?”

“Lost it.” He’s cryptic. Finally, he stands. 

Your stranger stretches out a rough palm, and you take it, getting up on shaky legs. You almost collapse onto his chest, but he’s there; solid, stoic. Looking up, and it catches you off guard: the intensity of his stare, how he watches in a way that makes you feel stripped bare. 

“You first.” He repeats, still holding on.

He’s pretty. Of course he is, but the shadow and light makes his features even more pronounced. In the quiet, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard; standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jaw tight, he doesn’t react the way you want him to: ever-still, passive. Fuck. You’ve read it wrong: not used to the intensity of this kind of foray. After all: a one night stand seems too reductive, doesn’t quite span the depths and furrows of how your stranger has taken you apart. Finally, you leave the strange man still standing in the pool house. You don’t dare to look, but you can feel him; the weight of his stare at your back.

You can feel his hands, too; the ghost of his touch lingering as you make your way back to the house, mingling with the crowd.

~~~

You don’t tell your friends. You make your back home after the party, bundled into a taxi with a hand tight around your own wrist. It doesn’t feel like his hand on yours - not even close.

“I didn’t actually fuck him yesterday!” Your friend tugs on your sleeve, giggling into your shoulder as she recounts her night. A debrief with the girls turns into hungover breakfast-bleeding-into-lunch at your dorm. They’re bundled onto the sheets, some eating greasy takeout and others nursing bludgeoning headaches. 

You’re fine, mostly. A little bit of liquid courage, but your hangover pales in comparison to some - catatonic on your rug and scrolling through their phone in a limbo-like state.

“You didn’t fuck him, but you wanted to.” Someone pipes up, and the conversation devolves into raucous laughter.

You laugh, tucked into yourself. The wonders of a half-dozen sophomores during Halloween - able to grin despite the shit storm that’s been mounting. Campus killers notwithstanding - they make you smile, at least.

“Were you there towards the end?” Someone asks, poking an elbow at your side. “When there was that blackout?”

You nod, simply - not trusting yourself to say more.

“I-I mean…” Her voice is suddenly shaky, thrusting a phone into your unsuspecting hands. “Well… they’re saying it must have happened then, or around that time.”

You squint, confused.

“And it could’ve been anyone, I suppose. There were like, what, a hundred people there? More? ”

“What?” 

“A body. They found a body - by the pool house, or something…”

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

[mossyivy]

Young parents but it's re2 leon or re4 leon... he has a cute and sweet girlfriend but he ended up getting her pregnant by accident (ahem) and now he needs to learn how to take care of his pregnant girlfriend.... (He watched Twilight and was worried about the possibility of she breaking like a stick like Bella.) 👛anon.

(RE4 Leon is 27, you think 27 is young?? I'm 27 bless you 👛anon 🥺)

This would probably fit better with RE2 Leon. A rookie cop who accidentally knocked his girlfriend up. Obviously he's happy regardless, you two love each other and he knows he'd want a family someday. It just so happens to be sooner than he thought.

I'd picture him going bat shit insane. Talking about how you'll snap like a twig and you're just staring at him like 🤨 babe... We're not have a vampire baby.

Yeah, but like WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS!?

Would definitely buy every parenting book he sees. He wants to be prepared. Extra precautions after you move into his shoe box of an apartment cause he wants you close by. Definitely walking around putting up those corner covers they have for counters and tables so kids don't cut their heads. Even though you're a grown ass woman... He's just scared you'll bump your belly and hurt you or the baby.

The moment you start getting cravings he's on it any time of day.

You want cookies at 3am? Insomnia cookies here he comes.

You text him that you want noodles while he's sitting at his desk at work. He's an hour late coming home from work because he stopped at two different markets to get any flavor of instant noodles he could find so you'll be able to enjoy your meal.

You want grilled steak in the middle of fucking winter?! BABE GET YOUR COAT, WE'RE GOING TO OUTBACK!

Definitely overwhelmed with all the responsibilities he puts on himself because he refuses to let you do cleaning or anything to requires lifting. And yes, even if it is light!

Leon put most of the nursery together (cute little alcove in the living room until y'all can find a bigger apartment or rent a house). Quite literally only let you supervise, which irritated the hell out of you but he loves you and you know he's just paranoid.

Once the baby comes though, he's awake for days... You're recovering and he's taken on the role of father very seriously. So sleep deprived he's probably stared at the baby thinking he can't see their chest move. But they wiggle their little arm and his stomach nearly falls out of his ass he was clenching so hard.

At one point he'd be rocking the baby to sleep during your recovery and close his eyes for 2 seconds and suddenly it's morning. The babies not in his arms and he starts freaking out. So freaked out he looks under the damn couch for his kid. But you come out of the kitchen carrying a bottle and the baby in one of the swaddling scarves and he can breathe again.

But all in all Leon would be a fantastic father!

[maimingaffairs]

Hey, could I please request something for Aleksander x femReader where the Reader is a Star Summoner? He and Reader have been friends since they where children and have walked the earth together since then. They always thought that the love they have for the other is just friendship, but boy where they wrong...Their friendship takes a hit during the whole Alina in the Little Palace time...Reader knows about the plan to expand the fold and is all for it, she just really doesnt like Alina....Anyway, during the events on the skiff when Alina runs, Reader and Aleksander get separated and believe the other to be dead...They go on to free Grisha on their own. After some time they meet and in the heat of the moment he kisses her...They finaly confess their feelings...After that they go on to win the war...After they win they get crowned King and Queen and bring peace to Ravka, but expecialy to the Grisha...

this was another 3am write, i yet again apologize for that. also, i apologize for how long it took for me to finish this. i have been in Tennessee all weekend seeing taylor swift... anyways... anon thank u so much for this beautiful req. i hope that it is to your liking

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of blood

word count: 8.2k

Are There Still Beautiful Things? (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

-

“One more time, please?”

“You’ve said that four times, Aleksander.”

“And I’ll say it four more if I must. It’s beautiful.”

You looked over at your best friend and gave him a little smile and rolled your eyes. 

“Your mother is not going to be happy when you don’t get inside.” You remarked and then nodded at his hands once. 

The two of you laid underneath a large tree just outside of his home, just as you did almost every other night. You’d been best friends with the boy ever since the two of you were little children, and now here the the two of you were, barely fourteen, and you were still yet to be rid of that childlike wonder. 

“I don’t really care. She won’t get mad, she likes you enough.” He insisted and reached out to gently grab your hand, “One more time, I swear this is the last one. Please?”

You looked into his dark, round eyes and you nodded once, conceding under his pleading stare. 

“Okay.  One more time.” You giggled and squeezed his hand once. 

The two of you intertwined your fingers and Aleksander raised his free hand to conjure a thin sheet of shadows just above your heads as you looked up at the space around you. 

The stars and the moon above your heads disappeared behind the shadows he conjured and you reached up to drag your fingertips through the inky darkness above your heads. Finally, you flexed your hands and clasped them together for just a moment before you opened your palms up towards the shadows, sending little glittering shards of soft white light up into the shadows. Aleksander marveled at the sight for a while, and you turned your head to marvel at him.

Sometimes when you did this, the two of you would spend hours making up your own constellations and galaxies within the self-made stars and sky that you’d both created. This wasn’t one of those times, though. The dark haired boy next to you leaned over and placed a little kiss on your cheek before he reached up and shooed away the shadows he’d created. 

“Okay, I said it was the last time and I meant it. See?” He teased 

You giggled and nodded, watching as he pushed himself up off of the ground and held his hands out for you to take. 

“Let’s go inside, yeah? My mother will likely beat me with a stick for not coming in an hour ago.” He said and gave you that charming smile that you had come to love so much over the years. 

“Okay.” You answered softly and reached up to take his hands. 

-

Aleksander’s hands clasped around yours tightly as he swung himself down off of his tall horse and he gave you a small, soft smile. He leaned down to press a hello kiss to your cheekbone and then let go of your hands, and you lowered them back to your sides. 

“Well, I see that the Little Palace is still intact and hasn’t been burned to the ground yet, so I assume my time away wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.” 

His voice soothed you more than just the sight of him and you let out a relieved sigh, straightening out your kefta. 

“It was bad. For me, at least. I had no one to bother. Stop running off.” You replied, earning a lazy smile from him. 

Aleksander shook his head with a quiet whisper of a laugh and he turned around. In his last letter to you, he raved about how he’d found the Sun Summoner at long last. 

The girl perched upon his horse must have been her. 

She was pretty, despite her state. Days of riding had put her hair into tangles and there was dirt caked underneath her fingernails and smudged across her cheeks. Aleksander helped the slender girl off of his horse and he motioned towards you once she was securely on her feet. 

“Miss Starkov, this is y/n. Star Summoner and my right hand.�� 

Her eyes traveled over you, up and down a few times. The ghost of a disdainful look crossed her face and then she gave you a curt nod. 

“Lovely to make your acquaintance.” She replied briskly and gave you one more look up and down before she clasped her hands behind her back. 

You eyed her cautiously in return and then gave her a small hum. 

“Likewise, Miss Starkov.” You replied in the same clipped tone. 

The girl watched you as if you were a current threat to her and you slowly shifted your gaze to Aleksander who was looking over his shoulder at Ivan. You cleared your throat, effectively capturing his attention and he turned back to the two of you and then nodded towards the palace. 

“Meet me in my chambers, would you, y/n?” He asked and you gave him a nod. 

Alina didn’t even give you a second glance, turning her head up to face somewhere between Aleksander and the doors to the palace. You blinked a few times, taken aback by her coldness and you slowly moved away from the two of them. You bunched the skirt of your dress up in one hand and made your way back inside the palace, greeting a few of the Grisha that had gathered around the entrance, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Sun Summoner. You shouldered your way inside and made a beeline for Aleksander’s chambers, letting out a little huff. 

“You’re in an awful hurry.” A voice called out behind you and you turned around with a relieved smile when you saw Baghra. 

You stopped walking and waited for the older woman to make her way to you and she gently hooked her arm with yours and let out a sigh. 

“So, this is it.” She said simply and walked with you as you continued down the hall, now going at a pace she could easily maintain. 

“I suppose so,” you mused and then you let out a tiny scoff, “I would’ve thought she’d at least be a bit more… pleasant.” You stated and glanced over at her. 

She shrugged a bony shoulder and she drummed her thin fingers against your arm. 

“Well, from what I understand, this is all new to her. Imagine finding out one day into your adult life that you are the Sun Summoner, prophesied for centuries. I’m sure she’s a bit apprehensive, my dear girl.” Baghra reasoned and then gave you a tired smile. 

“Perhaps. Where are you headed this afternoon?” You asked softly and led her through the winding halls to Aleksander’s chambers. 

You had known Baghra since you were only four years old, and she had always been nothing but kind to you, taking you in eventually once you grew older. Your parents never were fond of you being Grisha. She was often viewed as bitter and harsh by others, but you had nothing but admiration and love for Aleksander’s mother. 

“I came to seek you out. I figured you’d either be outside with my son or you’d be headed to his quarters. Seems I was correct.”

She usually was. 

“Oh? Is there anything I can do for you?” You asked her softly and she simply patted your arm before speaking. 

“Just make sure he doesn’t make poor choices. Please. You’ve always been his voice of reason. He cares for you like you would never imagine.” She hummed and then looked up at you. 

You gazed down at the woman and then gave her a small smile in return, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze with your own. 

“Well, I care for him like he could never imagine so I suppose it works out, doesn’t it?” You asked and then leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. 

“I care for you, too, you know. You are the child I never birthed. I am thankful for you. He needs you. You remind him to be polite and kind, and he reminds you to utilize your power and your cleverness.” She said with a little sigh. 

When you two approached the doors to Aleksander’s chambers, you pushed them open for her and she let go of your arm and wandered inside and you followed behind her, closing the doors behind you. 

“I must know, and you need to tell me the truth, darling. Does my son have ulterior motives with the Sun Summoner?” She asked and turned around slowly to face you. 

You met her eyes and then shook your head before you gave her a shrug as well.

“Not that he’s told me of. I mean, we don’t discuss the Sun Summoner often. And when we have it’s always been hypothetical. This is the first time we’ve been faced with a reality with her in it.” You explained. 

Lie. You lied. 

You knew very well what Aleksander planned to do with The Fold. You felt a bit of shame as you lied to Baghra, but you swallowed it down like dry bread and kept your eyes on hers. 

“Time will tell I suppose. It was lovely to see you, y/n. Come and see me for tea tomorrow afternoon if you can sneak away from Aleksander. I know he doesn’t much like to share you.” 

You watched as she walked to the far side of the room and pressed her fingers against a wall panel and it slid open. 

“I’ll cross my fingers that I see you tomorrow. Until then, behave.” She said with an affectionate smile and you gave her a little wave as she disappeared into the wall. 

You stood in the middle of Aleksander’s war room for a while before you took your kefta off and laid it against the large table in the middle of the room and you wandered into his bedroom. You let out a long sigh as you walked towards his bed, and as soon as you were close enough, you tossed yourself backwards onto it. 

You wondered where Aleksander was and realized he must be busy with the Sun Summoner. 

The Sun Summoner. Your stomach turned a bit and you sneered to nothing in particular. You could already see where this was heading. He had to devote time to her, you knew that. But you weren’t excited to share his attention. After all, you’d been the main recipient of it for the last five hundred years. You stared up at the ceiling and a little pit began to form in your stomach at the thought of Aleksander giving his attention to her and you shook your head, trying to clear the thought from your mind, pushing it down as far as it could go. 

He devoted time and attention to his army, to other Grisha, to his mother, the royal family… the list could go on. So why was this different? 

You feared you knew the answer and you shoved it out of your mind as fast as the thought could take form, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. 

It was different because you had feelings for Aleksander.

-

“Oh, Saint’s sake, Zoya! I asked you to be gentle today!” You called to the Squaller. 

She looked over at you after she had yet again, knocked down one of the trainees cruelly in combat and she gave you a shrug. 

“They aren’t going to get the option of gentleness in a real combat situation, Miss y/l/n!” She called back at you with a grin. 

It had been nearly a month since Alina had arrived at the Little Palace, and Aleksander was adamant that you oversaw her training. You stood off to the side with your hands clasped behind your back, watching all the trainees carefully. You oversaw almost all of the combat training these days, as you were quite skilled in combat. You glanced out over the small group of new Grisha and you pointed at Alina, beckoning her forward. 

“Alina, darling. Why don’t you go next? I’ve seen you beat Zoya before.” You suggested and the girl eyed you discontentedly. 

She slowly stepped forward and then folded her arms over her chest. She looked Zoya up and down before she turned her head and looked at you, her eyes narrowing just slightly. 

“I don’t appreciate how you’re singling me out. It’s a bit eerie how obsessed with me you seem to be.” She called out to you. 

Your eyebrows shot up challengingly and you stared her down, daring her to say another word.  When she didn’t, you spoke. 

“Obsessed with you? Please, don’t flatter yourself, Miss Starkov. Nearly everyone has taken their turn today, and now it is yours.” You replied coolly. 

Zoya shifted awkwardly where she stood and then she glanced up at you. You gave her a little nod and then waved your hand once. 

“If there are no more interruptions, let’s start.” You instructed and lowered your hands down to your sides, flexing them frustratedly. 

“I’m not going to.” Alina said sharply. 

You folded your arms across your chest and watched her amusedly. 

“And you think your belligerence is going to get you anywhere? You need a reality check, Starkov.” You remarked and watched as she rolled her eyes at you. 

“The Darkling wouldn’t-“ 

“The Darkling wouldn’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to his second in command. So spar or don’t, but either way you will walk yourself down to his chambers and tell him yourself just how you spoke to me and how you refused to be compliant with your trainers.” You stated and watched as she shook her head. 

She muttered something out from under her breath and then she spun on her heel and turned in the opposite direction and walked haughtily away from you and the rest of the Grisha. 

You watched as she marched off and then turned towards the trainees that were gathered around you. 

“You are all dismissed for today. I have some business I should attend to.” You said in a flat tone and didn’t wait a second longer before you made the brief walk from the training yard to Aleksander’s chambers inside of the Little Palace. 

You didn’t bother knocking on his doors and you flung them open, marching inside of his war room with a frown across your lips. Your eyes fell upon him as he leaned over his war table and you walked up to his side, allowing the door to shut behind you. 

“You are displeased.” He remarked without even looking up at you. 

“What gave it away?” You huffed, leaning your waist up against the edge of the table. 

“You didn’t announce yourself. And you’re stomping.” He slowly turned his head up towards you. 

You stared into his dark eyes and then sighed. You leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder and you frowned. 

“Your Sun Summoner is not a very kind person. I’m tired of her disrespect towards me.” You mumbled and you felt Aleksander chuckle. 

You stood up straight just as he did and you shook your head. 

“What’s funny about that? I’m very serious.” You stated and folded your arms over your chest. 

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean to disrespect you. She’s probably just a bit homesick.  She’s tired of being here. Don’t take it personally.” He advised and then reached over to rub your arm reassuringly. 

You gaped at him and knitted your brows together. 

“Don’t take it personally? If I had complained about anyone else disrespecting me, you would’ve seen to their swift punishment. Why is it different when it’s her?” You asked incredulously, a little pang of sadness resonating through your stomach, up through your chest. 

“It’s not different. I just… don’t know what you want me to do.” He said exhaustedly and then he rubbed his face and stared down at you. 

“I want you to put an end to it! I am your second in command. Your best friend. I have known you since you were a child, Aleksander! I expect you to stand up for me!” You exclaimed and threw your hands up in the air. 

Aleksander bitterly let out a laugh and he shook his head once. 

“Please. You sound ridiculous. I think that you’re jealous.” He remarked and folded his arms across his lean chest. 

“Jealous? Excuse me?” You sputtered and then gave him a nasty look, “Of Alina? What planet do you live on, Aleksander? I could end her with the flick of my wrist.” You countered angrily. 

“You could not. We both know she’s more powerful than you. You seem to detest that. Trust me, I’ve wished for you to be as powerful as her many times before.” He snapped coldly and you blinked at him a few times. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they couldn’t be taken back. The look of shock on your face slowly turned to sadness and then shame and your eyes filled with hot tears. You looked down at the floor and your chin wobbled a few times before you looked back up at him. You squared your shoulders and sniffled back your tears, looking at him sadly. 

He felt as if you’d taken his heart out and crushed it in your fingers just from the look in your eyes alone and he opened his mouth to apologize. 

He hadn’t meant a word he’d just spoken to you. Your powers had always been the most beautiful things in the world to him. 

You cut him off before he could even speak. 

“She will never stay by your side like me. Her power may be greater than mine, but her devotion and love for you is not. That is the one thing you’ll never find again, Aleksander.” You said in a harsh tone, barely above a whisper. 

He reached out for your arm but you recoiled backwards as if he was lightning and you shook your head, “Don’t touch me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t think of me. Just leave me alone.” You hissed and then turned around and stormed out of his room. 

And for the first time in a long time, as soon as you reached the security of your own room, you allowed yourself to cry.

-

It had been nearly a month since your fight with Aleksander, and you had avoided him successfully. At first, he tried to approach you. But you easily evaded his presence each time. You stopped overseeing training and did what you could to avoid Alina, too. You spent most of your time with Baghra now, and tonight was no different. 

It was the winter fete, and you had decided not to go. Aleksander had sent you an elegant invitation and a beautiful, grandiose black dress with pearly white embroidery of constellations and swirls of stars. You’d taken the box to his door and left it there without another word. 

You sat in a chair next to Baghra and she let out a soft sigh, passing you a little lap blanket as you sipped on the tea she had kindly made for you. 

You stared into her little fireplace and you turned to look at her to find that her eyes were already fixed on you. 

“I wish desperately that you were the Sun Summoner.” Baghra spoke softly and you frowned, setting your tea down on the little table next to you. 

“You and Aleksander both.” You said coldly and moved to rise from the chair you were in. 

She reached out and grabbed your wrist gently, shaking her head once. 

“No. Not like that. I wish that it would’ve been you. You are the only one who sees him for who he is. The only person that can see past  The Darkling and instead see Aleksander.” She said with a small frown. 

You sunk back into the chair and held your hand over your face, a frown etching itself onto your lips. 

“It wouldn’t make a difference. I’m not enough for him regardless.” You said slowly and spread the little blanket that she had handed you out over your lap.

The old woman simply shrugged and let out a dejected sigh, leaning her chin against her hand.

“May I ask you a question? I need your honesty.” 

You glanced up at her and you hesitantly nodded once. You leaned forward a bit in your chair, curious to hear what she had to ask.

“You know him best. He tells you everything. So tell me- truthfully- what are my son’s intentions with the Sun Summoner? Does he really mean to vanquish The Fold?”

You eyed Baghra with a slight frown and then you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest.

“I think if you are asking me again, you already know the answer.” 

The room around the two of you was silent, save for the crackling of her fireplace. You met her eyes and she stared back at you with something between disappointment and fear.

“You lied the first time I asked.”

“Yes.” 

Her mouth twisted a bit but she didn’t say anything else for a moment and she instead looked in your eyes with intent.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly and shifted your eyes down to your lap.

“I don’t fault you, child. I know that you’d do anything for Aleksander. I realize the power he holds over you.”

You didn’t even argue. Normally you’d protest him having any kind of hold over you, but you knew he did. You knew it very well. It affected almost everything you ever did.

“It’s the same power he holds over the Sun Summoner. It’s easy to seduce someone and bend them to your will when you’ve had five hundred years to practice manipulation.” Baghra noted, likely mostly to herself.

You furrowed your brow and looked up at her questioningly.

“Seducing? Who? Alina?” You asked, not liking the tone that you took on when her name fell from your lips. It was bitter, envious.

"Who else? She sneaks around at night, in and out of his chambers. It's easy for him. She's naive and he's charming, easily the prettiest boy that's ever shown her attention."

You listened to Baghra sadly and you turned your head away from facing her, your nose burning and your eyes growing hot with little pinpricks of tears. Finally, you turned your head back towards her and she frowned deeply.

"You love him."

"Of course I do, he's-"

"No. I know you love him. What I mean, is that you have fallen in love with my son." She remarked.

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. She wasn't wrong. You weren't even sure when it had happened, it could have been any time within the last four hundred years.

Baghra reached over and laid her bony hand on your wrist and you closed your eyes, sniffling quietly, keeping your tears at bay.

"I always preferred you over Luda, anyway." She said sweetly, her attempt at lightening the mood.

You let out a sad laugh and then shook your head once.

"Aleksander will always prefer a powerful woman." You said quietly and then you opened your eyes to look at the woman's face.

"You are powerful. You are very powerful. you’re capable of things no one presently on this earth has seen. Things only perhaps Morozova knew of." She said slowly and then gave you a little frown, "You just accept what you’re presently capable of as all you can do because you don't mind being second to Aleksander." 

You knew she was right again. There was no use in justifying yourself to her. She would always be right. 

"I'm going to tell Alina to leave this place tonight, and I think you should do the same thing. Nothing good will ever come of the path my son is choosing to walk." 

You didn't feel like speaking, didn't feel like arguing. Though you would have stayed through all of his wicked plans, it was clear to you that all you had become to him was a burden. Aleksander and you had been in fights before, it was only natural to do so when you had known someone for that long. But this time had been completely different. He had never once taken a dig at you. An unrelenting sadness ensnared you entirely and you wrapped your arms around yourself tightly. 

You couldn't help but wish they were his arms instead of your own.

A pair of arms did wind themselves around your shoulders and you looked up to see Baghra had risen from her chair and come to stand in front of you. You leaned into her embrace and you rested your face against her arm, reveling in the small bit of comfort she offered in the sea of your distress,

"I love you, y/n. As if you were my very own child. You deserve more than this and truthfully, you always have. Go. Please. For me. Get out of Os Alta, get away from Aleksander, give yourself the chance to be happy. To be everything you need to be for you."

Her words had fresh tears springing to your eyes and you allowed a few of them to fall onto the fabric of her robes. You brought your arms up to her torso and you clung to her like a small child.

"I love you, too." You whimpered and allowed her to soothe you by running her hand over your head and shushing you.

"Please do this one thing for yourself. You have spent four centuries giving everything you have to Aleksander. Run. Promise me you will run."

You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't move or speak for a long time. Running away from Aleksander meant that you could never come back to him. He'd condemn you forever. But staying meant that every single time you saw him would be a reminder of how you weren't enough for him.

Baghra was right. You needed to do something for yourself and yourself alone.

So you nodded one and held her tighter.

"I promise."

-

 The cold fingers of an icy rain fell through your hair and down  underneath your clothes, leaving trails of chills over your skin. The wet sloshing of water that gathered in the grass was loud under your feet and you tried to be as quiet as possible while you approached the little prison camp made especially for Grisha. You slowly crept around trees and stayed hidden for moments at a time behind the especially big ones until you were close to the tree line. You could see a few lanterns up ahead, and around it stood a few First Army soldiers. 

This camp was smaller than the last one that you'd come across, with only three cages. Easy.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself out of the cover of trees and you walked across the muddy clearing in silence. Rain soaked through your clothes and left your hair in strings around your face and made the mud under your feet squelch. You looked up at the sky to find it empty. It must have been a new moon. Either that or the clouds hid the stars and the moon from your vision. The darkness around you seemed to take shape and you found yourself checking your periphery for anyone. You had to remind yourself that you wouldn't see him in these shadows. He was dead. He died in The Fold. It was all you heard for weeks as you passed from town to town all over Ravka. The Darkling was dead and the Sun Summoner was presumed to be the same, though most people had their doubts about that. 

Ever since you had ran away from Os Alta, you always felt like you had to check over your shoulders and into your periphery, in fear of him finding you. It wasn't that you feared him. You just didn't want to know how he reacted to you leaving, didn't want to know what he would say to you. Truthfully, guilt ate you alive everyday since you had left, but you had to keep telling yourself it was for the best. Aleksander found you to be a burden, and he had Alina now, anyway. What did he need you for?

You continued to trudge through the muddy field, and one of the soldiers must have caught sight of you because he called for the others and pointed at you frantically. You continued to approach nonetheless and they raised their guns at you, all three standing in various places around the lanterns, which sat in what looked to be an old fire pit.

"Don't come any closer! Hands behind your head, get on your knees!" One of them commanded loudly. 

You didn't obey, in fact, you picked up the pace of your steps a bit more and approached them.

The first shot that went off missed you by many feet, but the next came much closer. The third shot one of them fired off was aimed much better. You swept your arm out in front of you and deflected the shot with your kefta. You could hear them all begin to load their guns again and you finally reached them. 

You reached out with a white hot light burning beneath your skin and you grabbed one of their throats and yanked him forward. He let out a loud, agonized scream, and the skin under your hand began to burn and sizzle beneath your touch. You tossed him aside and walked towards the next man. The barrel of his long gun stopped you as he pressed it against your stomach, and in the dim firelight, you could see him sneer at you.

"Ah, it's you. The Darkling's right hand." He spat and you eyed him.

You gave him a little smile and then you grabbed the barrel of his gun and you clicked your tongue.

"I am no one's right hand." You hummed and leaned closer to him as you reached up for his throat, your hand beginning to glow with the hot light of the stars.

Something blunt and hard made rough contact with the back of your head and you stumbled backwards, colliding into someone's chest with your back. You groaned and glanced behind you at the third soldier and you cursed yourself for not subduing all three faster as he dropped the gun that he had just hit you with. His hands quickly encircled your wrists and he held them apart with a steel-like grip. You struggled against him and let out an angry yell.

"You will die for your actions against the Grisha. At my hand!" You hissed and sent a backwards kick into his knee.

The soldier crumpled a bit, but he didn't release you, and you were soon faced with the point of a sharp dagger, digging into your throat, held by the other soldier that stood in front of you.

"Lock her with the others." he commanded, but neither of them made a move to lock you away.

The one holding your wrists from behind cleared his throat and squeezed your wrists tightly, his nails pressing into your skin.

"If she was really General Kirigan's right hand woman, then she is obviously powerful. We need to execute her immediately." He stated and you thrashed savagely against his grip. 

"Stop moving or I will put this dagger through your windpipe!" The one holding the blade threatened and you slowly stopped moving and eyed him dangerously.

"You won't. You would have by now if you were going to." You said gruffly and he burrowed just the tip of the dagger into your skin.

"Try me, witch." He breathed.

You prepared yourself to slam your head into his and you watched his face when tendrils of shadow began to reach around his head from behind. You watched him in shock and curiosity as the tendrils covered his face and nose, and by the time he realized he was being smothered with tangible darkness, it was too late, he was already being yanked backwards. He struggled against the shadows and the other soldier yanked you backwards and pushed you down to your knees hard.

"What are you doing to him, witch?" He asked angrily and sent a kick into your side.

You gasped when his boot made contact with your rib and you crumpled onto the wet grass, rain still falling steadily. You were completely soaked with rain by now and you looked up at him as he raised his foot once more to kick you again and you covered your face with your arms protectively. Suddenly, there was a sharp, distant sounding clap, and the blow never came. 

Instead there was silence in the clearing other than the whispers and groans of the three locked away Grisha and you moved your arms away from your face. The soldier above you wobbled on his feet and then his head rolled off of his neck and smacked against your ankle. You let out a bloodcurdling scream and kicked it away from you before you put your hand in something warm. You looked down at the ground behind your back and you gasped to see the other soldier, headless as well, and your hand was in a rapidly growing puddle of his blood against the already wet grass. You heard heavy footsteps and looked up fearfully. The creature that stood in front of you was two times the size of a regular man and shaped like a disfigured and fluid-like human. It was so dark that it made the moonless night around you seem sunny and you began to back away from it, still on the ground. It lunged forward at you and you screamed loudly and protectively raised your arms again. 

You felt nothing but a cool burst of air against your skin and you let out a little whimper and looked up, moving your arms away from your face. You were met with two legs clad in black and your eyes traveled up the darkly clad form in front of you, a lump forming in your throat, realization washing over you, the feeling even colder than the icy rain that pierced through your clothes.

You closed your eyes, not wanting your eyes to finish their journey upwards. Your lips tugged down into a deep frown and you let out a shaky breath.

"You- you’re dead. You died."

There was silence and you opened your eyes again, and let out a startled shriek. 

You were met with the scarred face of your closest friend as he knelt in front of you. Rain had plastered his normally immaculate hair onto his forehead and the sides of his face and the back of his neck. He had thin, black scars that traveled across the length of his face and there was a new hardness about him. His eyes seemed even darker than they had previously and he reached out and grabbed your chin.

You gasped when you felt his cold, wet fingers against your chin and your lip quivered as you looked into his eyes, confused and scared.

"I live. I live and breathe before you. I should have let those soldiers kill you, traitor." He hissed and you stared up at him fearfully.

You shook violently and you weren't sure if it was because of the rain, fear, or a combination of both. You shakily reached up and wrapped your hand around his wrist as he kept his hand on your chin. 

"T-traitor? N-no! I didn't betray you!" You shouted and opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off recklessly.

"You left me! You abandoned me without a single word!" He bellowed and tightened his grip on your chin.

"You didn't need me anymore!" You cried, "you had Alina! She's more powerful than me, anyway! Why would you need me?" You asked, your face wet with cold rain and hot tears.

"Come on, we are not having this discus-"

"You even told me she was more powerful than I!" You exclaimed.

"Y/n, you abandoned me. Abandoned your duties at the Little Palace." He growled and tightened his grip on your chin even more.

Pain shot through your chin and your jaw and you let out a little cry, your eyes squeezing shut as you winced.

"Aleksander, you’re hurting me." You whispered in a trembling voice.

You knew he wouldn't really hurt you, but he had never been rough with you like this before and he was scaring you. Everything from the tone of his voice to the newfound deep blackness in his eyes was scaring you. Haunting you.

His grip on your chin very slowly loosened more and more until he let go entirely, and you let out a little sigh of relief before a loud sob tore itself free from your chest. You wrapped your arms around your cold, shaking shoulders and you pulled your knees up to your chin. Rain pelted the back of your head as you leaned your face down against your knees and you shivered, your teeth chattering violently.

"Get up. Come on." He said firmly through the rain.

You shook your head and held your eyes closed.

"Y/n, sweetheart, please get up. You are going to freeze out here. Look at you; you’re shivering." His tone was not warm, but it wasn't cold either. It was vacant mostly, save for the tiny bit of concern that crept into his words towards the end of his sentence. 

You shook your head again and you sniffled loudly. There was a soft shuffling sound above you for a second before you felt two arms wrap themselves around your body and before you could protest, Aleksander was lifting you up into his arms. He wasn't a single drop drier than you were, yet he felt warmer; more comfortable. You didn't make a move to grab onto him as he held you, but you allowed him to gently coax your head down against his chest. His cold, wet kefta pressed against your freezing cheeks and it made you shiver just once, your head shaking before you finally relaxed against him. Everything about him was almost the same, but there was a new, ragged edge to him. To his breath, his movements, his voice, even the way he smelled. You shivered again at the thought of him being rougher around the edges after whatever it was he'd gone through and you pressed your lips together to prevent another sob. "You are cruel. You are a cruel woman. How dare you leave my side? For five hundred years you have been faithful to me. How could you?" He asked. His voice was no longer empty; it was full of sorrow. 

You shook your head as it laid upon the side of his chest and you let out a shaking sigh.

"Why would I have stayed? I was reminded every single day that I wasn't enough for you. You let Alina disrespect me, you called me crazy and jealous when I asked you to put an end to it. You told me she was more powerful than me, Aleksansder! You told me you wished I was more powerful! Why would I have stayed?" You repeated and lifted your head away from his chest to look up at him.

Raindrops streaked down his face and fell from his lashes, down over his lips and off of the tip of his nose. He looked glorious in the minimal light of the nighttime with his hair unkempt and wet as it hung in his ink-like eyes and he shook his head as he looked down at you. 

"I didn't mean it. Not a single word of it." He said ashamedly, almost shouting over the rain.

"I am your best friend! I love you! I would do anything for you," you began and then you reached up and covered your face with your hands, "and yet, you casted me aside as soon as you got a shiny new toy. I know. She's the Sun Summoner. She will save the world. I can make pretty stars with my fingers and can only swear loyalty to you. I can't expand your Shadow Fold, I can’t do the things she can do!" You cried and moved your hands away from your face to look into his eyes once more.

Emotions swirled within his deep brown eyes and he tightened his arms around your body as he held you against his chest as if you were no larger than a small child.

"You just need to let me go." You said tearfully and bit your bottom lip sharply, "Let me go and we can go our separate ways, and then you can get back to your plans, you can find your precious little Saint." You exclaimed miserably.

The way he stared down at you was unlike any other way he'd ever looked at you before. He stared at you much like a devout follower would stare at their deity and his jaw flexed a few times, the skin over it pulled taut against the bone.

"Don't you see? I needn't search for my precious little Saint any longer." He remarked quietly, his tone reverent. 

"And why is that?" You asked sadly.

No warning could have ever truly prepared you for the way his lips fell upon yours. He kissed you with a sadness that you could feel all the way in the center of your chest, and after the initial shock wore off, you kissed him back, your eyes falling shut. His lips moved against yours resolutely and you reached up with a cold, rain slick hand to hold the side of his scarred face. His sadness melted into something a bit softer and more inviting, and the moment you thought you could put a name to the feeling, he was pulling his lips away from yours. He laid his forehead down against your own and he closed his eyes.

“I do not need to search for my precious little Saint any longer because she is here, in my arms as we speak.” He whispered. 

You felt all the color drain from your already pallid face and you looked up into his eyes.

“What do you even mean?” You asked exasperatedly and you let your hand fall away from his cheek. 

“I mean… You. You are my precious little Saint. You are my closest and dearest friend, and you are the love of my life. Did you know that?” He asked softly and then nudged the tip of his nose against yours. 

Your stomach dropped dramatically and you pulled your forehead away from his. You stared up at him with a shocked expression. 

There was absolutely no way.

You blinked a few times confusedly and then you laid your head back down against his chest and rested your hand over his heart, tapping your fingers against his kefta. 

“I am not.” You whispered and closed your eyes. 

“I’ll spend forever trying to convince you that you are, sweetheart. You’re mine. Don’t you see? You always have been. For five hundred years, you have been mine.” He murmured and pressed his lips against your ear as he spoke, “You are mine. No one else can have you. I’d kill whoever tried.” He breathed against the shell of your ear and it gave you goosebumps. You gathered the thick fabric of his lapels up in your fist and you shook your head a few times. 

“Deny it all you want, but I know you feel the same. I could feel it in your kiss, my sweet little star.” He mumbled and pressed a lingering kiss against your ear. 

Your mouth opened and closed stupidly and you let out a shaking breath.

“If I don’t deny it, you will one day shatter my heart.” You whispered and leaned closer to him.

The rain around you had slowed to a drizzle now and little beads of water were dripping from his hair down onto your cheeks as you laid on his chest. The very faint light of the stars behind the rain clouds in the night sky was enough for you to see the frown on his lips and he shook his head. 

“Never. I’ll never break your heart. Oh, it’s far too precious.” 

His words bounced back and forth in your head and you tugged his kefta gently, a particularly violent shiver ripping through your body. 

“Please, just take me somewhere warm. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with you.” You begged softly and hid your face against his wet clothes, “I’ll go wherever you go.”

He nodded once and gave you a little reassuring squeeze before he whispered something about home near your ear. The patter of the rain made it nearly impossible to make out entirely but what you did catch melted your heart. 

“… and it doesn’t matter where we go, because when I’m with you, it is home.” 

-

Little specks of rainbow light glimmered all over your bedroom, bouncing off of mirrors and glass to create even more little flecks of color throughout the room. The crystals on your dress sparked brilliantly as you stood in the window, watching the sun set. A deep purple horizon was settling over the land just beyond your windowpane and you let out a soft sigh. 

Your head was heavy with the weight of a brilliant crown, made of black metal and sharp, glimmering diamonds. Your silvery dress was tugged down with the weight of a thousand little crystals and you watched as their light refractions danced across your walls. You were a sight to see. 

Formidable, graceful, beautiful. 

You were a queen. 

Not just a queen. The Queen. 

Against all the odds, against every enemy, and against each and every opposer, Aleksander managed to take The Firebird as his own amplifier and he put an end to the incessant thorn in his side that was the Sun Summoner. 

His plan, no, both your plan and his had been entirely successful. For hundreds of years, Aleksander chased the crown. He waited patiently for it. Sat in the shadows, stalked, paced, and plotted for it. And it was finally his. The night he saved you from almost dying, he’d taken you to his sanctuary and promised you on both of his knees that he’d give you a crown and a love like you’d never known before and you’d never know again. 

He made good on both promises. 

The day had been eventful. After a long banquet in the morning, you’d been crowned queen in front of only Grisha while Aleksander was given the title of king. 

Aleksander Morozova. The Darkling King. 

His title made you shiver practically and you let out a soft sigh as you continued to watch the night sky swallow up the blue of the day with deep purples and pinks. 

It was over. It was all over. The war, the fighting, the conflict, all of it. Aleksander would now waste no time in stopping Grisha persecution all over Ravka and everything would be right in the world. 

“Is the Queen pleased with her view?” 

Two strong hands found their way around your waist and pulled you backwards. Your back was pressed up against Aleksander’s chest and you closed your eyes softly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. 

“Ah, very much so. Though, I think you’re the better view, my King.” You whispered. 

He swept all of your hair out of his way and lowered his lips down to the nape of your neck, trailing butterfly-wing-light kisses to your skin.  

“You flatter me.”

“Do you not deserve it?”

“Perhaps I do. But perhaps I don’t. If you find me worthy of flattery then I must be doing something right, angel.” He mumbled and dragged his lips around the side of your neck. 

“I find you worthy of all beautiful things.” You whispered and tipped your head to the side as he pressed his soft lips to your skin. 

“Ah, so I must be worthy of you.”

“Of course.” 

He hummed contently as he playfully nipped at your skin on your neck and he smiled into the side of your neck. 

“This country is ours now. Ours to have and ours to keep and ours to have, hold, and protect. How does that make you feel?” He asked softly and lifted his head away from your neck. He leaned his cheek against the side of your head and traced his fingers over your waist as he awaited your reply. 

It made you feel powerful. Strong. He made you feel that way. You loved him. You loved him more than words could possibly have ever said, and you were lucky that he loved you back. The Sun Summoner drew breath no longer, the former prince Nikolai sat in a cell underneath the Palace accused of treason, and Aleksander and you assumed the roles of the two most powerful Grisha to ever exist. You felt ecstatic.

You looked up at him and his eyes shifted down to yours and you gave him a little smile. 

“I’ll show you.”

And you stood up on your toes to reach him and you pressed a kiss to his lips. One of gratitude, one of happiness. 

One of five hundred years worth of love. 

[littleplantfreak]

Chatterbox Pt. 1 - SFW

>Their calling/texting habits, especially with a partner that loves to be on the phone for hours (part two with the others dropping tomorrow I promise!!)

Hayato Suo - Phone? What phone? Just kidding. He texts a regular amount, but if you wanna be on the phone for a while, his limit is usually an hour unless you're both planning a date or something. He'd prefer to be with you in person otherwise. Invite him over~ He'll bring snacks and drinks for you.

Sakura Haruka- Better on calls than he is on texts for sure. Takes a long time to figure out what to talk about when you two do have calls. Likes to keep them half an hour or shorter regularly. If it's a special occasion or you're on vacation, he doesn't mind if the call goes longer, wanting to hear your voice even if it's only been a day since you left. Accidentally calls you on facetime a lot instead of like...a regular call. So you just see his ear or neck, or it's just completely dark.

Nirei Akihiko - Can talk for hours without fail. He does have an exact bed time that he sticks to though, so while he wants to keep talking, he's about 2 minutes from passing out on the floor. Has call parties that are so chaotic but insanely fun that everyone ends up cracking up during. Added Sakura to one of your calls before, but then Sakura thought you were WITH Nirei. "Sakura-san we're all on different phones." "But you both sound like you're in the same room???"

Kiryu Mitsuki - Calls you when he's gaming and you both just stay on the phone as a way of hanging out. Sometimes forgets you're on the phone and starts humming one of the osts and it sounds sooo nice. He'd sleep with the call still going if it wouldn't completely drain his phone battery. Depends on the day, but when he hasn't seen you in a bit, he's like "Just come over please."

Tsugeura Taiga - Loves calls too. Will call you when he's working out to show you that he hit his new goal. "Babe check out my form, let me know if you think my posture's off" And your just on facetime while he's in his local gym? He asks the people he's with if it's alright first though. Loves chatting or listening equally, so if you just want to hear his voice? He's got plenty to say.

Sugishita Kyotaro - He'll listen if you wanna chat as long as you want, he just doesn't say much. If the call goes on longer than 2 hours he might end up falling asleep. He has to be extra careful with his phone because he's prone to breaking it. It's got the strongest screen protector and case known to man. Actually waterproof at this point probably. Likes to send one set of character emojis when texting and just that set. He's got a special ringtone for you set, and answers it on the first ring every time.

Hiragi Toma - He's fine with calling or texting, but doesn't wanna be on the phone forever. If you have something to say, that's one thing, but if you're gonna talk his ear off, he's also one to just want you to come see him. Actually takes cute candids (unlike Ume who is a menace with them) and has one as your contact pic. Sometimes he looks at it and his stomach feels just a bit better during an attack.

Umemiya Hajime - GOSSIP GIRL FR! He's on the phone with you for hours telling you the juiciest secrets he's found out during the day. If you call him up at 3am cause you had the wildest dream? He's answering and talking about it with you until you're ready to fall back asleep. Has the UGLIEST candid of you you've ever seen and it's your contact pic smh. He has other ACTUALLY cute pictures of you on his phone but he's adamant that you look beautiful in all of them. If he's busy doing something, he'll pass his phone around to either his friends or Kotoha and the kids when he's home to keep you company. Kinda like those "Hey can you watch my boss for me for a second?" Tiktoks?

[evanescencelovrr]

Part 6 of college!simon x reader 🤍✉️ god the way he does anything and breathes—okay pls comment and reblog to share love 🥺

Masterlist here ✉️

He couldn’t sleep. The memories of your kind gesture played over and over in his mind. The way your scent lingered for just a second when you leaned in to put to next to his leg—and then how you walked off, earmuffs sitting snug.

What kinda’ sorcery was this?

Simon had to ask himself, brows furrowed. An arm was flexed, hand under his head, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling uselessly. His box fan spun loudly, sounding smooth in the dark of the night. When his eyes shifted from the ceiling, to his window, revealing the campus walkways, then his desk, there was your cup, lipstick marks slightly faded and empty.

He did drink it all.

Was it his fault the damned thing tasted so good? He didn’t even know those things tasted heavenly. Packed fulla’ sugar too. But it was fine. He trained hard and long—the sugar would be outta his system in less than a second.

When he checked his cracked phone, it was 3am. He had classes at 9am, and groaned softly. Blonde eyelashes brushed his cheek as he attempted to close his eyes, nestling in his bed. His hunky form had a hard time sleeping on it, the bed too small. Sometimes his leg would slip off in the night, or arm, hanging lazily. Blankets would fall to the floor and pillows.

Simon was a picky sleeper.

Back at base, Johnny always had been taking pictures of Simons sleeping form. He’d cackle in the morning as Simon arose, mask on, wearing all black for the briefing meeting. Making a pot of coffee—hearing Johnny’s bickering, along with Price.

“Lieutenant—this a nice sight fa’ sore eyes, aye?” Johnnys thick accent rung out like alarm bells behind Simon who remained flat faced. He sipped his black coffee.

“That one needs a swaddle—aye?”

“Shut it, not another word.” Simon said roughly at Price and Johnny who grinned silently.

Simon eventually fell asleep to the memory.

——

When he made his way out for class—somethin’ about enlightenment and Kant versus Hume—he saw your door. He shoved the key in his lock, hearing a click. His head was craned to yours—were you up?

His lip tilted in a grin for the morning as he remembered your gesture. He wasn’t sure what to make of you yet. Was he trying to make something of you? The thought shook him.

Was he attempting to get to know you?

Part of Simon wanted to reel and flee, at the idea. All he ever knew was base and team 141. It was his comfort zone. A tight knit ship at that. And you—you were like the moon beckoning the ship at night. Full of secrets.

“Huh. Best leave er’ be.” He’d mutter and walk off.

Later on, grabbing food at one of the many dining halls, Simon managed to find a seat upstairs. Not ideal, as it wasn’t close to the exit but instead by a window. He did sit angled to see the exit—as usual. He was going to lift his mask to eat the salad when a girl spoke up.

“Do you always leave that on? The mask?” When he looked up, he saw a short blondie. Cherub cheeks and big eyes.

Roughly, he set his fork down on the plate—CLANK—and sent a glare her way, muttering, “Wots’ it to ya?”

She scampered off, leaving Simon to stew for a second. Damn bloody hounds. It’s a damn mask, ensuring his privacy. What was so hard to respect about that?

And then he thought back to you. You hadn’t pressed on about the mask nor asked of his scars. It was as if you’d seen him as a person beyond it. He chewed at his salad with a glare of focus, turning his head out the window. He felt slightly guilty scaring off the poor lass, she seemed much younger than him after all.

Kids. He had to remind himself. He was much older and all age ranges existed. He forgot not everyone was a war criminal at the age of 33 and 50, scarred.

Not everyone was a war princess.

When he turned his head over, he saw a fluff of hair sticking out. Then ear muffs, trailing down to a red soft leather jacket. It was worn and faded, giving it that vintage look. There you were. Sitting back facing him, eating just a salad and off to the side—pasta.

He didn’t say anything, but just watched for a minute. He then turned back to his plate, finishing off the scraps as students poured in. As usual at this hour. His eyes shifted to glance particularly at a rugged boy, holding his backpack strap with a sleazy walk in your direction. His grip tightened on his fork.

He then heard a plate clank behind him, and a voice rang through the air, “You got that work done I asked for?”

When his eyes glanced to his rear flank, he saw the rugged boy leaned over the table, fingers splayed on the table over you.

You cut into your chicken, not sparring him a glance. “I said I’d have it done, didn’t I?”

Clearly the rugged puppet didn’t enjoy that response—because he leaned closer and his shaggy hair blew slightly, revealing narrowing eyes. You glared.

Simon knew something was wrong. He already sniffed the bullshit a mile away. He got up, smoothly, resting his fork and stood behind you, hand resting on the edge of your chair. He felt you stiffen up in confusion—turning to look at him. But he never removed his eyes from the skimpy lad.

“Simon—“ You said.

“You got a problem, boy?” Simons guarded voice rang out, and the students watched on. Some went quiet, and all he could head were subtle forks clanking—slurping. It was like tunnel vision—everyone focused on you.

The boy leaned up, swallowing and shaking. His eyes were narrowed and Simon didn’t like that one bit—so he leaned forward, hands bracing on the back of your chair, looming over you just to get a closer look to him. Almost like a silent threat.

The entire time your heart was pounding a million miles, face heating up. Attention was drawn to you and you didn’t want it. You had half a mind to run—but Simon held your chair there.

“She said she’ll ave’ the work done, yea? So off wit’ it.” Simon said, not leaving room for argument.

The boy ran off, not even bothering to pick up his plate which made Simon scoff. He then sat next to you, plate landing beside yours. He shoved away the boys plate, quite roughly at that—he wasn’t going to leave you to the wolves. Everyone went back to their food, muttering.

When you found your breath you spoke, “I had that handled, you know.”

“Did ya’?” Simon said gruffly, hunched and picking at his chicken to bite. He didn’t sound rude, just slightly amused and still ruffled from the situation.

Your brow cocked and you looked at him. You looked confused—not sure of what to think when it came to him, and his intentions.

“He looked like he was gonna bite ya.” Simon added, although he knew the boy was skin and bone. He just wanted you to understand. His head lifted to pierce his gaze into yours.

You caressed your fork for a moment, thumb stroking.

“I would’ve bit back. I got some spunk in me after all.” You scoffed and shook your head, although grinning slightly. You bit into your pasta, which was mediocre for university food.

“I’d like to see ya put em’ in its place.”

“It?”

“It. Not even a man, balls avent’ dropped yet. Damned dog just breathin’ down on women.” Simon muttered, cup raising to brush his lips.

You had to bite back a laugh at his roasts. He was right though. Damned boy clearly didn’t know his place. You ears warmed slightly under the muffs and you could’ve sworn it was from the muffs itself.

Simon finished his food and then looked at you, leaning back in his chair. Arms crossed round’ his broader chest, blue eyes not leaving you. He then remembered how the boy demanded for work to be done—not that he gave the boy his mind—“What kinda’ trouble found ya?”

“I—“ You began. You chewed before speaking., eyes shifting away, “I just get payed to do…people’s assignments.”

Simon tutted and shook his head slowly, then leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table to gaze closely at you. You could make out his pupil, blonde thick lashes curling out, the eye bags from under the mask—and wrinkles. “Out here doin’ gods work, aye?”

“Damn right. But if I’m caught that’ll end badly for me.” You scoffed, rubbing your wrist in a self soothing manner.

“You’re desperate aren’t ya?”

“I need the money—“

“Then come work with me.”

You froze. You jerked your head up at his smooth request, tongue poking at your cheek, pondering.

“Work…with you?” You then repeated.

“It ain’t a request—I’m telling ya.”

[dameronology]

moment's passed (matt murdock)

summary: based on say don't go by t.swift (x)

warnings: excessive use of the f-word. angst.

this is one of the from the vault songs that just fucking HITS me. i have been crying to this since it came out tbh. i hope you enjoy xx

-jazz

You had Matt Murdock.

Until you didn't.

Things had been sweet at first; he was a weathered lawyer who needed some light in his life. Somebody to come home to; somebody to properly love for the first time in his fucking life. It wasn't like the high he was chasing with Eletkra Natchios, or the familiarity he'd sought out with Karen Page. He got both things from your relationship, but you were...different. You gave him highs; you could make him feel like he was home and on a rollercoaster all at once. It was a feeling Matthew wanted to keep for the rest of his life. He would have been stupid not to. But wasn't that the thing about Matt? He was incredibly smart, but also incredibly fucking stupid. Almost bound to take someone for granted. He'd done it with Foggy, hadn't he? 

Five years. That was how long you made it before cracks began to appear in your foundations. You'd loved Matt for his Daredevil side at first; maybe he could go too far, but he'd always known when to stop (right?) and you admired him for it. For his bravery, for his candor, for the way he protected the city. It was like a dark and sexy secret that you prided yourself on keeping. It tied you together. You were part of it now. You were the person that Matt could come to about his darkest fears and worst nights. You were the person whose side he would curl up into during the night, craving someone to protect him for once. There was always the worry that he would go into deep and truly lose himself, but every time Matt found himself on the precipice of doing so, you would be there to hold him back - to keep him sane and to stop him letting Matt Murdock and Daredevil blur into one person. 

You were only a human being, though. So was he. Matt could save the city and everything in it but you couldn't save him from himself. Save him from coming home at 6AM - your agreement had always been 3AM at the latest - and sliding into bed beside you without a word, or save him from waking up in a bad mood and refusing to talk to you about it. No matter how many times you begged him to just spend one night in, or to not leave himself three hours to sleep before work. It all fell on empty ears and that hurt when he had fucking super hearing. Comforting cuddles at night turned into whispered touches and soon, those touches became backs turned to one another. Long conversations turned into polite niceties than eventually faded into silence. The happy relationship - breakfast together in the morning at the table and takeouts on the sofa at night - became a burden. A horse you were both flogging because staying together in silence was slightly less terrifying than whatever the alternative that left you alone was. Soon, you were the only one flogging said horse. Matt had dropped his stick a long time ago and turned away. He'd walked into the depths of Hell's Kitchen and you weren't sure he was ever coming back. 

This wasn't your fault. Maybe it wasn't his fault either but hell it was his burden to bear. You'd done nothing but love and support him and what did you get in return? Silence. Iciness. Long, tense moments of forced conversations. 

You got used to it eventually. Every night, he'd come stumbling in at 4,5,6AM, skin littered with bruises and wounds; some from that night and others reopened. Matt's skin was thick with scars now. They were forming a new Daredevil suit across his arms and legs and back and there was no taking it off. It was always there. Always a reminder. 

Matt was laying with his back to you; you watched with open eyes, as his breathing went from shallow and tense, to something a little deeper and softer. He was falling asleep. Tough fucking luck, Murdock, you thought, it's time to talk. 

You brushed a hand down his back - Matt arched like a cat, suddenly waking.

"Hey, Matty."

He sighed heavily. "I was sleeping."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how you were-"

"- I'm tired," Matt huffed. "Go to sleep."

"I'm tired too," you murmured. Tired of this. Tired of this silence. Tired of you.

"Sleep too, then."

"I will," you whispered. "What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'm working all day. Probably late."

"Okay, goodnight," you said. "I love you."

Silence. 

The morning came and still, Matt barely spoke to you. He ghosted past you in the morning, hands fumbling for a clean shirt and pants. His shoes were pulled on and coffee made, and he was out the door before you'd even risen for work. That was purposeful. He never left earlier than 8AM and it wasn't even gone 7:30. Maybe he didn't want to talk. Maybe he just wanted to talk to anyone that wasn't you - which was funny, because you'd barely had a conversation in weeks. 

You had lunch with Karen later that day, about four doors down from the Nelson & Murdock office. Whatever dalliance she'd had with Matt was in the past - you two were good friends. She was level-headed and candid. You needed that in a friend. She always said what you needed to hear, even if you didn't want to. 

"So, I'm gonna see this guy for a second date, I think," Karen was saying something. You were gone, eyes blankly staring past her. "But I'm not sure, because - hey, are you listening to me?"

"No," you admitted. "I'm sorry. I had a really shitty night."

Her face fell with concern. "What's going on?"

"Matt's losing himself to his night job," you admitted. "I haven't had a proper talk with him in fucking months. I don't think he's touched me since people liked James Corden, Karen. Do you know what a long time that is?"

"Jesus," she muttered. Without another word, she pulled out her diary and flicked through it. "Look, it says he's got his whole afternoon wide open today. He went home at midday I think."

You faltered slightly. Either Karen was mistaken or Matt was a fucking liar and had fed you bullshit about being busy this afternoon. The worst part was that you knew Karen never made mistakes when it came to her secretary job. She had a Pinterest board for everything and her Google calendar synced up to ten different devices. She probably wasn't wrong and lying to you, although a new development, was pretty in line with how Matt had been lately. It felt like the final nail in the coffin. The thing that sealed your relationship's fate.

"I..." you muttered. "Okay. Will you hate me if I ditch early to go and talk to him?"

Karen shook her head. "No. Go."

That subway ride was the longest of your ride. It felt like every stop was twice as long; like every red signal lasted ten years. Had the walk from the platform to the barriers always been this long? Had the street from the station to your apartment been this stretched out? Your feet had never hurt more as you sprinted up the stairs from the lobby to your apartment. The door was on the latch - Karen was right, he had been home - and you booted it down with ease. Matt jumped up from the sofa as you did.

"What are you-"

"- you're a fucking liar!" you snapped. 

There was a lingering silence for a moment. Matt was a man of few words but he had very rarely found himself speechless.

"I'm done," you muttered.

"Done with what?"

"I'm done with you," you said. "I'm done with us. With this shitty relationship. Do you know how long I've been trying? How long I've been begging you to give me some kind of attention? Months, Matt. I've been dying for MONTHS and you haven't cared."

"I haven't been ignoring you-"

"- please don't lie to me," you cut him off again. 

The silence returned. You might have been half way out the door for months but Matt had been the one holding it open. The worst part was that you loved him to your very core and if he just said the words then - stay, don't go - or even any fucking word in the human language that hinted at a glimmer of hope, you would have thought twice. Maybe your apartment was a ghost town now but it was haunted with what used to be. Maybe there was a chance to go back to that. Just maybe. You would take maybe. 

The seconds passed. One, two, three. You counted them as they went, right up until you hit sixty. The dreaded one minute mark. That was more than enough time to beg. You could have done it in thirty. But he'd said nothing. The silence now said more to you than Matt had in the last three months. 

"Do you have nothing to say?" you quietly asked. 

"Right," you murmured. "I'm really done then."

"Just...think about this?" Matt said. His voice wavered slightly. There it was. The thing you'd been wanting to hear. It was just one minute too late. 

"Moment's passed, Matty," 

[strniohoeee]

Cutting Dead

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader, cute imagine could be suggestive at parts😚

Synopsis: Y/N was getting ready for a date when some unexpected things decided to happen👤

Warnings⚠️: None really if I’m being honest, could be suggestive at parts, but nothing crazy☺️

Song for the imagine: Heartbreaker- Justin Bieber

I had stood over the triplets house last night because I had been asked out on a date by a guy I really liked. I haven’t been in the dating scene for the last year because I was constantly being disappointed by every single guy. But when I put myself out there again I ran into Chance. He was so sweet and funny and not a creep, Nick saw how head over heels I was for this guy, and wanted me to spend the night so I could get ready, and express my excitement with him.

“Y/N I’m so fucking happy for you! You deserve a good guy” Nick said jumping on the bed next to me

“Nick I’m so fucking happy like hes so nice to me, and he was the one who asked me on the date, and planned it all” I said smiling and blushing like a schoolgirl

“A guy who actually took initiative?? This we love!! Oh my god we have to make you look even more hot than you do tomorrow”Nick said clapping his hands together

“I brought so many outfit options! Like this guy is really making me think about my appearance” I told Nick

“Finally! You were starting to give Adam Sandler core I was getting scared” He said laughing at me

“Oh you fucking dick! Shut up” I said throwing my pillow at him

That night we stood up pretty late just laughing and talking about how excited I was. We went to bed at 3am, and we woke up at 9 because my date was at 12, and Chance was coming to pick me up.

I decided to start getting ready at 10, I showered and washed my hair. After stepping out I did my skincare, put lotion on, and put pajamas on so I could do my hair.

I decided on a blowout, and once that was done I started my makeup. I loved a full beat of makeup. It made me feel even more powerful with my thick lashes, and my brown lip liner.

As I was doing my makeup and hair Nick was chatting with me asking me all types of questions

“Do you think he’s a catfish?” He asked laughing

“Nick we’ve FaceTimed before…OBVIOUSLY NOT” I told him laughing

“Mmm true! Do you think he’s actually 6 foot” he also asked

“Uhhh…I actually never gave that a thought” I said as I applied my blush and highlighter

“Ouuu are you gonna kiss him” he asked wiggling his brows

“Weirdo….maybe if the vibes right” I said as I set my makeup with some spray

“Omgggg yall gonna fuck on the first date?” He asked me, and both Chris and Matt had walked into the room the same time as he was asking this question

“Who we fuckin” Matt said laughing as he went to sit on Nicks bed

“Nobody. And no Nick I’m def not fucking on a first date” I said as i was putting glue on my lashes

“Why not? It’s fun” Nick said as he pushed Chris out the way of laying in his spot

“Ummm because I’m looking for someone who doesn’t just want to fuck. I want real love” I told him as I started to stick my lashes on

“That Jada and Will love” Chris said laughing

“Given the fact that they hate each other I’m not too sure, but uhh something along those lines” I said laughing

“Ouuu that Morticia and Gomez love” Matt said nodding his head

“Oh yes!” I said looking at him through the mirror

I had finished applying my lip liner and gloss, and was ready to put on my outfit

“Okay guys I need opinions on the outfit let me go change” I said as i ran into nicks bathroom and put my outfit on

I was wearing medium/dark wash mid rise jeans that were flared at the bottom, and hugged me in all the right places. Actually hugged me a little too tight as I gained some weight and now they were extra tight on my ass and thighs. Then I put on my fitted hot pink shirt that said I Love Men, but the N was scratched out so basically I love me. And then for shoes I decided on these cute felt hot pink wedge sandals. The whole vibes was giving Bratz doll, and to top it off I put clear Y2K glasses on my head. I felt hot and powerful.

I stepped out of the bathroom.

“Sooo what do we think” I said as I gave them a spin

“You look sooo hot” Nick said snapping his fingers

“You look great” Matt said giving me a thumbs up

“Spin one more time” Chris said rubbing his chin like he was wondering

So I did another spin for them

“Your ass looks fat asf, he’ll def be drooling” Chris said nonchalantly

“Chris don’t be weird” Matt said smacking his younger brother

“I appreciate it…even though that is weird. I’ll take it” I said giving him a weird stare

“WHAT I’m stating the obvious” Chris said putting his hand up in defense

“Okay even though Chris is a creep your ass is fat” Nick said

“Okay enough about my ass” I said laughing and going to grab my phone. The time read 11:58am

“Omggg guys it’s almost timeeee” I said in a sing song way

“Has he texted you?” Nick asked

“Mm not since 11:30” I said grabbing my purse and putting my lipliner and lipgloss in it

“I figured he’s driving” I said as I sprayed myself with perfume, and getting ready to walk down to the living room to wait for Chance

We had all gone downstairs, and Chris decided to go shower while Matt and Nick sat on the couch with me as we chatted. I hadn’t realized how long we were chatting for until I looked down at my phone, and saw the time said 12:15pm…..hm weird

I decided to shoot Chance a text

-heyyy! Hope traffic isn’t too bad. What’s your ETA?☺️

5 minutes had gone by with no response

“Did he answer?” Matt asked

“No, but he was working the 5AM shift, and sometimes they don’t get off till 12:30-1, so maybe he’ll text me” I told them, and to this they nodded their head

By now it was 12:55pm and I still haven't gotten a response. I was slightly worried that he was standing me up, or he might’ve gotten into an accident, so I decided to call him. No answer

“I’m not sure why he isn’t picking up. At 11:30 he literally said he couldn’t wait to see me soon” I told Nick and Matt

“Call him again” Nick said

So I called two more times, and no response. In fact , it went straight to voicemail. I was really starting to think he stood me up, when all of a sudden my phone pinged with a text message

Chance🦕

I’m sorry, but I can’t do this any more. I didn’t mean to lead you on. You’re a cool girl, and I really like you, but I was really hoping our relationship was just friends with benefits. I’m not looking to commit to anyone right now :)

My jaw fucking dropped, and at this point Chris came into the living room

“What’s going on?” He asked as he sat down on the couch

“Uhhh he stood me up” I said still blinking down at my phone in utter shock

“He did what?” Nick asked

“Yeah… he said I’m sorry, but I can’t do this any more. I didn’t mean to lead you on. You’re a cool girl, and I really like you, but I was really hoping our relationship was just friends with benefits. I’m not looking to commit to anyone right now” I told them as I was reading the message out loud

“Are you joking right now” Nick said grabbing my phone to read the message himself

“After a year of not seeing anyone. I finally find a guy who I thought was so sweet and kind, and it turns out he’s just like the rest” I said taking a deep breath and rolling my eyes

“Oh what a fucking dick” Nick said handing my phone back to me, and I grabbed it closing out the message. Not even bothering to respond to him

“I got all dolled up for a fucking loser” I said taking my shoes off

“Hey! You don’t need him. There’s plenty of other guys out there who would kill to be with you” Matt said, giving me a reassuring smile.

“Yeah I know, but I was really starting to like the kid” I said rolling my eyes

“Y/N fuck himmm you’re so hot! You could literally have anyone you want. Literally go out right now, and watch all the guys drop to their knees begging for you” Nick said, and I smiled at this

“Ehh it’s fine I’m going to wash my face and change my clothes. So I can eat my feelings and bask in my self pity” I said standing up

“No. Let me take you out” Chris said as he stood up

“Take me out?” I said looking at him as I put my shoes back down

“Yeah, let's go out on the town, maybe the mall, and whatnot. You look too nice not to go out come on” he said grabbing the keys

“Oh okay” I said as I put my shoes back on and grabbed my purse

“Have funnnnn” Nick said as he gave a small smirk to Matt

I had driven us to the mall to go walk around and shop. As we were walking around I was getting nothing but stares from every guy I passed.

“See! Too pretty to not go out. Every guy is staring at you” Chris said as we walked into another store

“Thanks Chris. You’re making me feel better about getting stood up” I said laughing a little bit

“Ehh fuck that loser we can have more fun together” he said giving my arm a nudge

After we left the mall, we decided on grabbing some dinner, and then he took me to the pier to walk the boardwalk and look at the night sky and the waves crashing on the shore.

While on the boardwalk Chris and I stopped for ice cream, and decided to sit down to eat them

“I really appreciate you doing this for me. I haven’t thought of chance since we left the house” I said looking over at him

“I’m glad. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face” he said looking up at me

I just smiled, and he turned to continue eating his ice cream. I was looking at him in admiration. And only then did it hit me that I might’ve liked Chris. I mean he was always there for me, my biggest hype man, and we were inseparable when we were together. I was so scared of coming to realization with this, because I felt that he wouldn’t like me, and I struggled with rejection. So I pushed all those feelings to the back of my mind, but they never truly went away. Every guy I ever spoke and went on dates with had all reminded me of Chris, but they weren’t him. I either broke things off with them, or they ghosted me, and I was hurt, but I think I was more hurt at the fact I couldn’t come to terms with my adoration for Chris. It hurt that every guy I dated just wasn’t him.

I broke away from staring at him, and began to speak

“We should take some photos” I said, and as he was finishing his ice cream he agreed

Chris was my biggest hype man. Every photo he took always came with a comment “oh yes!” “Oh my god you ass looks so good like that, hold it!” “Eating these bitches uppp” he said and that made me laugh, as I laughed he snapped another photo.

“Ew Chris I hate my smile, why would you take that” I said walking over to him to look at the photo

“No Y/N, you look beautiful just standing there laughing, and in raw emotions. This is my favorite photo of you” he said as he looked at the photo with a smile on his face

“Whatever you say” I said blushing and trying to not sound excited

“Okay your turn” I said to him as I grabbed my phone from him and pushed him away

Chris was posing like a model. “Okayyyy fucking it up” I said as I took more photos. “It’s giving bad bitchhh” I said and he gave me the middle finger the same time I snapped the photo

“Oh Chris this might be the hottest photo of you” I told him as I showed him

“Ouuu you think I’m hot?” He said smirking at me

“Yeah…who doesn’t” I said rolling my eyes

He just stared at me and laughed. After a few more photos we decided to head back to the car, and chat some more.

“You know something” Chris said looking at me, and I looked back giving him a puzzled face

“I really fucking like you” he said looking into my eyes. This made me really nervous, and I just looked down and started to blush

“I have liked you for so long, and the fact that I didn’t come clean sooner is killing me” he said

“Chris…I like you too, and I’m upset I didn’t come to you sooner either. I looked for you in every guy I dated, and it hurt that they just weren’t you” I told him

“Nobodies like me” he said looking down at my lips

“Yeah I’ve realized that now” I said laughing a little bit

“Kiss me” he said, licking his lip, and so I did. I leaned in and smashed our lips together. We had a small makeout session before we both pulled away

“Omg Chris I got lipgloss all over you” I said laughing and covering my mouth

“That’s hot” he said looking into the mirror

I just smacked his chest and blushed

“How about we take a picture for that loser and send it to him” Chris said smirking at me, and to this I agreed

He took my phone and leaned into me as I leaned into him for yet another kiss, and he snapped the photo.

“Oh he’s gonna be maddd” Chris said laughing

I leaned over to see what he was doing, and he snaked his hand around me grabbing my ass and giving it a firm grab

“I meant it when I said your ass is so fat in these” he said biting his lip

“Chrissss stop” I said whining

“Keep wearing jeans like this, and I swear I’ll cum in my pants” he said licking his lips, and I looked at him before giving him another kiss and moving down to his neck

He moaned lightly, and then stopped me

“We have plenty of time for that, but for now let’s send these pics to him” He said giving me a quick peck on the lips

Chris opened up the message app and clicked on Chance name before sending him the photo

-fuck you :)

Chris typed, and then sent another photo. It was the photo of him with his middle finger up

“Omgg Chris he’s going to be sooo mad” I said laughing

“Yeah fuck him, but for now I get to kiss up on and love my beautiful girl” he said as he kissed me once more

After that we drove back to the house, and as we were walking into the house he kept grabbing and smacking my ass. Even as I walked up the stairs in front of him

“Chris stop” I said in a whisper as we both laughed

“I see you two had fun” Nick said as him and Matt were still on the couch

“Yeah we did” I said to them as I put my purse down and slipped my shoes off

“Oh Chris for sure had fun” Matt said laughing at him, and it was only then I realized my lip gloss and lip liner was still all over his face

“Fuck yeah I did, I was all up in there” he said

“CHRIS STOP IT” I said smacking him

“Don’t tell me…” Nick said with wide eyes

“No we didn’t fuck” I said laughing

“Omg okay I was going to say please don’t say anything I dont want to throw up” he responded

We all just laughed, and as I went to walk to the kitchen Chris smacked my ass again

“CHRIS PLEASE” I said as I turned around blushing

“Yall please don’t be gettin it on infront of us” Nick said covering his eyes

“Never” Chris said as he grabbed a handful of my ass, and started to lead me down to his room

“We’ll see yall tomorrow” Chris said as we walked downstairs

“PLEASE NO FUCKING” Nick and Matt yelled in disgust

“SHUT UPP” we both yelled back and laughed

Chris and I spent the rest of the night laughing and watching videos together. Occasionally making out, but other than that we called it a night at 11, and fell asleep snuggled into one another.

Tehee hope you guys liked this one😚😚

-J💅🏽

[band--psycho]

Chibs Telford x Reader - Perspective

For @munsinner who requested this story so long ago for my dialogue prompt writing challenge!

Dialogue Prompt 380 - I'm breaking every rule in the book by being here

Everything was going to shit.

And what’s one thing that came when things went to shit, other than more shit? 

Perspective.

That’s why Chibs was here; at Y/n Tellers front door, working out how to tell her he loved her. 

Because he’d had enough; enough of sticking to the rules, enough of trying to be the good guy, enough of denying himself the one person he craved more than anything. 

Y/n Teller.

The princess of Charming, his best friend's younger sister, the one woman he swore he’d never fall for…

He’d tried. 

He’d tried so fucking hard to not fall for her, and even when he did fall, he tried so hard to push those feelings aside and act like they didn’t exist. 

But there was no one else for him.

No one else could magically make him smile on the dark days, no one could make him laugh as loudly nor could anyone calm the storm that tore through his mind late at night when he couldn’t sleep. 

Y/n Teller was the only woman who could. 

And selfishly, he wanted more. 

Even though he knew he shouldn’t.

He wanted more than late night chats at 3am, more than stolen glances when no one else was paying either of them any attention, more than a possibility of love. 

He wanted her, completely.

He wanted to tell her how he truly felt.

No more secrets. 

No more ‘almost’ moments.

He wanted her to be his; and to be hers in return. 

He wasn’t a saint, by any stretch of the imagination, he’d done things he’d regretted or wished he could’ve changed. 

The last thing he wanted was for Y/n to become another regret, another ‘what if moment’ in his life. 

He could work out the consequences later, but he needed her to know how he truly felt.

He knocked at her door, a small chuckle slipping past his lips when he heard her swearing about who was waking her up at this ridiculous hour.

Her swearing continued when she opened the door, wearing a fluffy dressing gown and matching fluffy slippers. Even in the middle of the night, when she wasn’t even trying to look good she was still the most perfect woman he’d ever seen. 

Her anger soon diminished when she saw who was standing there.

“Chibs?” She questioned, her eyebrows narrowed in confusion as to what he was going here in the middle of the night. 

He didn’t answer; silence descended upon both of them, as his mind tried to work out what he was going to say to her now that he was here. 

“Filip?” She asked again; softer this time as she placed her hand on his shoulder; her confusion shifting into worry. 

A million thoughts raced through her head about why he was here; had something else happened with the club…

“I’m breaking every rule in the book by being here,” he muttered, as he took a step towards her. 

Those words brought her back to reality.

A small gasp fell from her lips as she processed the words he said; she knew what he was talking about. 

There was only one rule she knew of that he could be referring to, and it made her heart skip a beat. 

“I need ye, lass, and I’m done pretending I don’t,” he continued; his eyes meeting Y/ns as he took another step closer towards her, she didn’t move, she just stood still letting him almost close the distance between them completely. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she breathed shakily as her arms wrapped around the back of his neck.

“I know,” he agreed quietly, glancing down at her lips before meeting her eyes again. 

“We should stop,” she whispered, her lips now inches away from Chibs’.

“Is that what ye want, love?” 

That’s not what she wanted at all.

But she knew that if they did this, if they broke the rules they’d both been sticking too for so long, she could never go back. 

“No,” she answered simply. 

That was the only answer Chibs needed before he closed the small distance between them. 

The world melted away. 

For a moment, nothing else existed; it was just the two of them, losing themselves in one another.

Without a word, they moved together, back into her flat, where Chibs kicked the door shut.

They kissed with a desperation that spoke of a need that had been building for far too long.

Chibs pulled her in close, his breath hot against her ear. “Yer mine now,” he mumbled, in between kisses,  “and I’m not letting ye go.”

And with that, he picked her up, carried her to the bedroom, both of them knowing that after tonight, things would never be the same again, but both of them being too lost in each other to care about the consequences.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

10 BL Boys I Would Throw Hands For

Okay so everyone is doing retrospectives and what not and I should just kinda quit while I'm ahead, but I just rewatched My Ride and decided that I needed to highlight some of the boys that I would 100% throw hands for should they be wronged by any man. So without further ado here are the people who would inspire me to seek justice and retribution against those that have hurt them with the same feral energy of cocaine bear.

Tawan- My Ride

First if all, Por better watch his fucking back cause if he does anything to fuck with Tawan again you better believe I'm jumping on the back of Mork's pillon and we're turning a man into a pin cushion. Tawan has literally done nothing wrong ever in his life. He cares for everyone so deeply. He is so soft and kind and gentle in the most beautiful way and there is not a malicious bone in his body. Tawan is just a genuinely, naturally, and fundamentally good person and I am so glad that he is a sunshine for sunshine kinda guy because Tawan deserves a man like Mork in his life (and Mork- who would also be on my list but he throws hands just fine on his own -deserves a man like Tawan).

Uea- Bed Friend

Uea is so incredibly lucky to have King in his life, because if it were me, and Uea told me what his parents did to him, the next thing anyone knew I'd be at Uea's parents' house ripping his step-father's throat out with my bare fucking teeth and locking his mother in the bathroom with like a pack of hungry wolves or some shit. Uea's family got off far far too fucking easy because King is capable of some level of self-restraint. I, however...if there is one person on this list who I would turn the most feral/attack dog for, it is this beautiful angel right here. Sleep with one eye open Uea's Mother, I'm coming for you.

Tian- Khun Chai (aka To Sir, With Love)

He's beauty, he's grace, his mother will murder you in an instant if she thinks you know he's gay. I honestly probably don't need to do anything to the people who have wronged him cause between his mother, his brother, and his boyfriend he's got that shit covered, but...I love him so much. He just wants to be himself. But himself is a gay man in occupied Thailand, in a family that disowned their last outed queer member and drove him to suicide so, he's having the time of his motherfucking life. I am not saying I condone the swift delivery of a death to anyone his mother thought might threaten him, but...I get it.

Sakuko- Koisenu Futari

Hello to one of my new-found greatest loves. Sakuko is yet another human embodiment of sunshine who has had too many people do her wrong in her life. She has built herself a little family, and she's found a life she loves, and if anyone ever threatened that you better believe I would be there swinging a baseball bat in an instant. Sakuko, my aroace queen, just know that I care about your happiness above all other things. Enjoy your bike ride!

Patts- La Pluie

gif from @ueasking

Now listen, I know Patts is capable of holding his own against those who have wronged him, but he should not have to do everything himself. Patts, save your energy for your veterinary practice, I'll return Tai to you after he has been smacked around a little bit. Patts is one of the rare characters here that I would throw hands for both in fiction and on this website. You have a problem with Patts, you can kindly meet me in the Waffle House parking lot at 3am.

Mrs. L- Laws of Attraction

If there is anyone on this list that I would have to bet has killed someone before, it's Mrs. L. I have no doubt that even now if someone tried to fuck with her in any way she'd have them on their ass in an instant, but bad bitches gotta stick together ya know? Call up Maya, Rose, and Nawin and I will meet them out front to take care of that problem for you. You've got your hands full with those boys of yours.

Daisy- Secret Crush on You

Oh Daisy, oh my darling, darling girl I got your back from now until the end of the earth. Daisy is just the absolute sweetest, and I want all the best for her, and if anyone was to ever fuck with her in any way, they are getting Cask of Amontillado'd by me, personally. Look at that smile, keep your brightness, babes.

Han Ba Ram- Sing My Crush

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Okay so. Honestly I understand why Im Han Tae was immediately cute, cuddly, and flirtatious with this boy. He is an extremely huggable lad. I can also understand how that need to hold this Sad Gay(tm) could have impacted the length of time it took you to realize you had feelings for him. This sad boy right here doesn't know it but he has accidentally summoned a small gang of people who are ready and willing to go all Ides of March on his music teacher's ass. So heads up to Sangin, @bengiyo, @ginnymoonbeam, @lurkingshan, @kyr-kun-chan, @shortpplfedup, and I are outside your front door and we just want to talk.

Boston- Only Friends

Now, I will not deny my boy is a bit of an asshole, a shit-stirrer if you will, and there are times and places where I will let Boston deal with the consequences of his own actions and get smacked around. HOWEVER, you slut shame my boy? Death. You pull an Atom on my boy? Death. You abandon my boy? Death. According to the end of Only Friends Boston's is absolutely lacking in people in his corner, so I will be there with bells on. Boston, cruise as much as you want baby, and if any of those boys give you trouble, give me a call.

Amane- If It's With You

gif by @dramascene

In case you haven't picked up on it, sad!happy boys are my kryptonite and Amane is just the saddest boy with the best bundle of joy mask I have ever seen. He deserves the world, this boy, and if anyone ever tried to steal his joy again, I would steal their soul right out of their bodies.

Wasn't gonna make this a tag game or anything but if anyone wants to answer it, go right ahead!

I will, however, tag @negrowhat, @respectthepetty, and @sorry-bonebag since they are the ones that supported my vision so they see the post

[imraespace]

CHAPTER 17: MEGUMI'S LIFE

JUST THE WAY THINGS GO | MEGUMI X READER

Megumi's old life was his best life. He may not have met you back then but atleast he had a completed family. His mother, father and his sister, but it went down the drain thanks to his father, that's what he thought atleast.

──────────────

Like normal, he woke up from the sound of his alarm. His sister was already up but wasn't outside like she normally will be.

"Why are you in here?" He asked her.

All he got was a frown and to his surprise she hugged him.

"Are you okay?"

And again he got no response.

Confused, he left the room and surprisingly, Tsumiki followed behind him.

He made his way to the living room and then saw what was happening.

His father talking to his mother as she packed her clothes.

"What's happening?" Megumi asked.

They both looked at their children, the two 11 year olds sticking together.

His mother smiled at him as she walked up to the boy and gave him a small pat on his head.

"Your father is sending me away for a while I will be back soon okay?"

"Why?" Tsumiki asked.

She then looked over behind Megumi.

"I won't tell you now so you have to wait until my back." She ended with a smile and walked up to Toji.

Why send her away? And if he wanted to do that, why is he the one sad and she's the one who's happy?

He didn't understand but all he did know from her words is that she's gone because of him.

He waited for years for her to come back but all he got was a letter and soon those letters had stop.

And then finally he met you, who actually made him happy. He didn't tell you anything about his mother, but always bad mouth his father.

But out of respect and because of Tsumiki, you looked at Toji as if he was your own father sometimes.

There was those times where Megumi will look at you as both your parents will pick you up from school and sometimes wished it was him and his own but be kept his jealously in.

Why should he be jealous of someone who's making him happy?

But then just like his mother, just like his father, you took Tsumiki away from him and didn't tell him why.

So why should he be happy? Actually why is he even draining his brain at 3AM, thinking of a text to send you?

He sighed as he turned off his phone but his eyes caught glimpse of a message.

It was from you?

But then his jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide.

──────────────

MASTERLIST | <-PREVIOUS // NEXT->

TAGLIST: @deezy12299 @polarbvnny @bxrryvie @mentallyunstablemanlover @baku-boneless @evinvevin @zhochikennugget @hhoonsbaby @k1y0yo @frumira @nylories @jayathelostdragon @ashfrommyfire @br66klynbaby @luvkvni @we-loveebony @ire-exe @pompompuriina @vivi-loves-penguins @starszns @iluv-ace @fuyuzemi @samutoru @rzcnlb @r0ckst4rjk @nyxlai @widnejdjhshusja @mixzimi @cookie-mist @maya-maya-56 @helix-frscr @hearts4itoshi @camilo-uwu @b4tm4nn @nattisbored @rosiesforviolets @princess-peachys @lysaray @xbarrjallenx (OPEN)

(if not tagged, your profile didn't show up☹️)

──────────────

note: no one is dead in this story guys and also toji needs his wife for some happiness in his life🙄

[elorawrites]

the artist's muse [ ellie williams ]

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you considered yourself an artist, and with ellie as your muse, you made sure she never forgot how beautiful she was.

warnings: none. just the reader trying to teach ellie how to love herself by making her the muse of all of her artwork pieces.. not proofread.

author's note: i got extremely carried away by this.. and i wasn't sure where exactly i was going with it.. so if it sucks, please just be kind! it's my first piece of writing. it's also the result of writing at 3am while listening to house song by searows on repeat LOL

wc: 1.6k

ellie williams never thought of herself as beautiful.

there were many traits the auburn-haired girl could slap onto herself that she deemed more fitting: resilient, stubborn, brave, or funny (courtesy to her infamous joke books she simply thought were hilarious).

there was no doubt in her mind that she could make just about any word work in her favor, however, beautiful was never one of those words in her mind.

that was until she met you.

you, who almost never made her forget how beautiful she was.

your first encounter with each other was months ago, however, the pair of you remember it like it was yesterday.

you can recall the night fondly, a smile twitching at your lips as your mind wandered to the memory.

it was during one of the colder months of the year. the snow had started to stick to the streets in jackson, people were quick to pull their thicker coats out in preparation for the colder breeze and spend more time in the dining hall – which seemed to be the most heated building in the community.

there you sat at one of the tables, food long since forgotten as all of your focus was perfecting the sketch you had been working on for the last half hour; and you swear it was one of your best pieces yet.

it was a portrait of a girl, her face riddled with freckles that you always thought resembled the stars; a small smile adorning her lips.

that was your first portrait of ellie, and by no means was it the last.

you had exchanged glances with the other girl throughout the whole evening, always managing to catch ellie looking your way when you went to refresh your memory of her features for your art – not that you could ever forget features as beautiful as hers, anyway.

the two of you would quickly look away from each other, in your best attempts to make it seem like neither of you were staring for your own reasons; quiet giggles and stifled smiles claiming your faces afterwards when you would glance again, thinking the other wasn't looking.

that first encounter with ellie was one of your favorites. after making your final touches to your sketch, you had pushed yourself up from your seat and made your way to her, a red hue to your cheeks that you did your best to ignore, appearing as you slipped her the ripped page in silence.

to say you were nervous about showing her was an understatement. i mean, what if she thought you were weird? having no other interaction with other outside of a few lingering glances and friendly smiles. the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your chances with her before you even got to know her.

however, that was far from the case.

it felt as though ellie's breath had been ripped from her lungs, in the best way possible. she stared down at the small piece of paper like it held the answers to all the questions in life.

it was the most beautiful she had ever looked, ellie thought.

she never thought someone could look at her in the way the sketch had portrayed, let alone someone like you.

ellie had always thought you were the most beautiful person she had ever seen, by far, and to know that you held the same admiration for her and be able to show it.. well, it made ellie feel things she wasn't sure she felt before, but welcomed nonetheless.

the silent connection the two of you shared from that point on only grew, and as the snow that once settled on jackson's grounds slowly diminished, so did the space that you and ellie kept between you both in the dining hall as your friendship solidified.

over time, you began to realize ellie didn't share the same view you had of her, and it baffled you.

how could someone as beautiful as her, not realize it at all? not realize that her face alone could steal multiple hearts, just as it did yours?

you made a vow to yourself to make sure ellie never thought of herself as anything less than beautiful for as long as you were by her side.

she became your muse, and you based your artwork around her happily. you were never more inspired when it came to the auburn-haired girl.

it was something to get used to, but eventually ellie grew to like how you always studied her features before your hand hurriedly scribbled at your page, as if you would forget what she had looked like if you waited any longer.

there were points in time during the friendship ellie shared with you when she truly couldn't grasp the idea of you being able to see as much beauty in her as you claimed.

even after the things she has done. the amount of people that she's harmed.

ellie would never forget the night she had brought this to your attention, and neither would you.

the two of you were in ellie's makeshift bedroom, in the garage out back. there was a comforting silence that blanketed you, something that both you and ellie appreciated every once in a while. the only sound to be heard was the soft pencil strokes coming from you, your pencil in hand as you were sketched out another portrait of ellie – something you loved to do when you were together.

ellie loved watching you, though. she loved seeing the proud look in your face when you turned the page to show her your finished product.

today wasn't one of those days. you caught onto that pretty quickly when the enthusiasm in ellie's voice was slim to none, and when the bashful smile she usually had didn't reach her eyes.

"how can you continue to see me this way?" ellie's voice was quiet as the question left her lips, voice wavering as she held the freshly sketched portrait you had shown her.

"as something so.. beautiful? like the things i've done don't matter to you?"

ellie's voice shook again, but with frustration. the girl wasn't sure if this hostility she held was really towards you or towards herself, for not being able to accept someone might actually see past what she's done, to see who she was.

and you knew this, so when you found ellie to be worked up by the thought of someone loving her enough to see through her violent past and into the beauty she still held, you could only let out a lighthearted sigh as you dropped the pencil that was still in grips.

"oh, ellie.." you spoke to her in a voice so gentle, ellie had no choice but to pull her eyes from the sketchbook to your own eyes that held an emotion the auburn-haired girl still wasn't sure she wanted to fully understand.

you had always thought ellie's eyes were something beyond breathtaking, and despite the circumstances, even more so when they had that glossy film of tears over them.

you were careful as your hands reached for her face, making themselves at home on her freckled cheeks as your gaze looked over the face you grew to know like the back of your hand, one you grew to love.

at the feeling of your skin on hers, ellie let out a shaky breath she wasn't aware she was holding. her green eyes fluttering shut, taking a moment to lean into your touch.

it was just like that for a few moments. your thumbs gently brushing over the skin of her cheeks as you cradled her face with the other girl keening for your touch.

when she revealed her eyes to you again, you couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corner of your lips, because even the simplest of things ellie williams did had you feeling as though your heart was about to skid to a stop.

with her attention still on you, you gently tightened the grip on ellie's face to ensure she wouldn't pull away before barely uttering the following words out to her.

"you have, and forever always will be, the most beautiful girl i have ever seen.. and no amount of anger, or result of grief, can change that."

ellie wasn't sure if it was the way you looked at her, your eyes boring into her own with the kind of look you'd give someone if they hand-painted the stars–

which to you, she might as well have.

–or if it was the amount of emotion you held in your voice, which unlike hers, was steady; no sign of uncertainty as you made sure to speak to ellie with a clear, but gentle tone.

ellie knew that emotion well, and as much as she wanted to pretend it was a stranger, she knew it was nothing more than an old friend.

so as ellie pulled your hands away from her face, grasping onto them firmly in her lap, she leaned in and carefully closed the gap between the two of you, her pillow soft lips pressing into yours with a sort of hesitance– as if you'd pull away.

but it was then when ellie knew exactly what the emotion was when she felt your soft sigh against her lips, followed by the ghost of your smile and the pressure of your lips reciprocating her kiss.

it was love.

something that ellie was sure she wasn't deserving of, but was willing to try and understand otherwise.

she would learn to accept your love for her, as well as her place as your muse, because to ellie, your love would paint a whole new meaning for her.

you would be the artist that helps create that new beginning.

[wild-flowerhoney]

i'm neutral about solangelo on my best days and this is not one of them so... new wip??

nico, turning fifteen years old in a camp that still does not accept him, ugly whispers and pointed stares following him around. and will solace.

nico, turning fifteen with red welts on his skin where too warm hands grab and hold. keep in place. sitting at the edge of the lake with the same hero he'd once worshipped – and percy's eyes are worried, trailing over his skin, over those red imprints. he knows this, has seen this before. – and still nico stays and justifies. not because he's weak or dumb or doesn't know or anything like that, no, it always goes deeper than that with these kind of things – all the awful things we call love. all the awful things we accept because they're the closest thing to love we have.

fifteen is a peculiar age, one of hurt.

sixteen is much the same.

seventeen is a caught breath – let me help. let me make sure it will stick this time. i can't do it if you don't let me. seventeen is the yes stuck in his throat. sticky and blood red.

eighteen is a coughing fit – eighteen is the leaving. eighteen is sally jackson's kitchen at 3am with the too bright light and a cup of cocoa cooling between his hands. eighteen is oh, darling, you don't have to tell me. it's different except it's not. it's all the same kind of violence at its core.

nineteen and twenty are for falling – find his footing and mess it up the very next moment because what is nico, if not an unfinished thing? barely able to stand without curving under the weight of anger and regret and hunger, inevitably breaking?

twenty-one is the first full breath, rattling in his ribcage – the first job that makes him want to curl up under the sheets and never emerge, the tiredness in his bones at the end of the day. the sharp inhale of the cool morning air, i am tired and i never thought i'd be breathing but i do it anyway. forcing air into his lungs because what is nico, if not stubborn?

twenty-two. twenty-three.

breathe.

twenty-four is for firsts – a room that belongs to him, just barely big enough to fit what little he has left. percy shows up with lamps and curtains and a whole new set of mythomagic cards from a store near his own place, sally dusts every surface and bakes cookies in the tiny kitchen area. there's a hades figurine on the windowsill, worn books on a shelf by the entrance, an array of pillows and soft sheets on an almost too big bed. it's home, completely and undeniably his. it's a first.

twenty-five is an achievement – twenty-five is ten full years since he first sat beside that lake, beside the same man that is at his side now, and acknowledged that something was happening. twenty-five is bittersweet. it's been ten years, the lake looks just as it did back then. the two of them really don't. hands holding onto one another, breathing in the warm night air. a soft kiss on his knuckles.

twenty-five is the beginning.

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

I’ve been gone for so long but I have so much to say and idk how to say it so please be prepared for an absolute mess of an ask lol

First, I just really wanna give appreciation for Super Emeralds (The comic creator) and their dedication to THOAM. I’ve been on Tumblr for just a little more than a year at this point, and I only joined in the first place because of this comic. I got into it way back in… What was it, 2020?? 2021? And I fell in love immediately with the concept! Sonic feeling insecure about his new Werehog form? Chip being an active member of the team and a great friend?? TEAM DARK??? SONADOW DONE RIGHT?????????? Ohohoho! You can bet I was completely on board! I tried my best to comment on every page, because I just love giving positive feedback for things I enjoy, and took note of how Super Emeralds evolved their style as the years went on. I wasn’t there during the beginning, and I really wish I was, but the time I’ve spent following this fun little comic has made me feel so much appreciation not just for Super Emeralds as a person, but for the entire Sonic art community as a whole! Art is a creative endeavor, a passionate career, and sometimes it’s really hard to just. Draw. Comics are especially hard as I’ve discovered. So just… Good job to Super Emeralds for sticking around all these years and for giving us such an incredibly thought out and beloved series. And thank you.

…

ALRIGHT ENOUGH OF THAT MUSHY GUSHY STUFF AND LET’S TALK ABOUT THE BLUE BOY HIMSELF THAT IS NOW NO LONGER JUST BLUE MUAHAHAHAHASHEHEHEKEFHEOFHFFPWEHFLFHD

I’ve been a bit absent from Tumblr for the last few weeks due to sickness and lack of interest so I am undoubtedly missing a page or two from the equation but OH MY GOSH. POOR SONIC. Bro wakes up from like a 2-day long nap and the first thing he sees is his little brother screaming in his face at 3AM. He’s so confused haha! I noticed he isn’t as insecure or he isn’t really freaking out as much as I assumed he would way back during the exposition pages. This is obviously due to the confusion and whiplash after waking up as his “Normal” self again, but I feel like it’s just him putting on another fascade around his friends. To an extent, at least. He isn’t aware of the new pink markings all over his body and he isn’t aware of just how worried all his friends were. All he knows is that they know about his new form and they for some reason aren’t acting weird about it, so he’s likely just playing along to make sure nobody gets overly concerned. It just seems like something he’d do. Or maybe I’m just grasping at the angst straws, idk.

OMEGA IS FIXED BY THE WAY I DO NOT WISH TO GLOSS OVER THAT FACT. THE BOY IS BACK!! THE ROBO BOYO IS BACK!!! I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE ALL THE CRIMES HE’LL BE ABLE TO COMMIT ONCE TAILS GETS THOSE ROCKET LAUNCHERS WORKING AGAIN HEHEHEEE

Also let’s not gloss over how Omega doesn’t care that Sonic mauled him to death. Let’s not gloss over the fact that Omega clearly cares for the others because of his ignorance to Sonic’s rampage.

Yeah if you couldn’t already tell I’m a sucker for this kinda stuff-

Uhhhhh I don’t really have much else to say, honestly. Maybe I will later, but right now I’m on a time crunch so I gotta keep this all pretty concise. Thank you so so much for reading all the way through, I know this was a really really long one. And again, thanks to Super Emeralds for being able to last this long and not losing motivation for the comic. I know I would’ve given up after just 5 pages! (I actually tried to make a comic of sorts and I literally gave up after 5 pages I am not kidding.)

Aight I gotta go now bye bye!! 👋

ur gonna have a field day in 2-3 weeks depending on when u decide to go on rampage haha

[pumpkinpaix]

*vibrating* I had too much fun at the surrealist costume party that I’m too excited to sleep so I started a project lol

This is an adorable stationery box I got as part of a zine earlier this year!!! The print is so cute it was the only piece of merch I got bc I loved it so much

But!! as cute as it is, it’s still a mass-manufactured paper box and there are a number of places where I think it could be improved

first, the square on the case (distance between tray and edge of case) is massive, like a whole 1/4 inch or something and I really dislike the size of it. It’s a little wonkily assembled, and the interior construction of the tray isn’t very elegant.

The ribbon is such a lovely idea, but it’s inconvenient and cumbersome to use. the box already has a magnetic closure, but it’s a little weak.

I don’t have a lot of thoughts so far besides: remove the tray, convert the ribbon closure to something else, maybe a bone clasp or a snap or honestly maybe just remove the ribbons and let it just be the magnets whatever the point is the ribbon has to go

Luckily the adhesive in the outer corners pops off fairly easily with a little pressure, and the inner parts are also pretty easy to detach, though they require a bit more force

Flattened with adhesive removed from the case! (I’ve folded the tabs back so they don’t accidentally stick to anything)

Now I have to think some more before I act so it’s bedtime, but here are the Thoughts so far

1. Tray flaps are adhered underneath the print which is essentially one long paste down across the case. In raking light, you can kind of see that it extends in about maybe half an inch? I am thinking of how to remove the flaps while keeping the thank you message and zine name. you can also see where removing the adhesive has warped and bubbled the paper. this is fine I expected it and am planning on removing the paste down on those areas anyways and replacing them with new material. I’d like to remove the part of the flap under the paste down too tbh because it’ll be unnecessary bulk. To keep the message visible, there are a few possibilities: a) I’m lucky and the whole paste down is easily removed without damaging it and I can just reuse it as a paste down! Yay! b) I can’t remove it without ruining it, so I just cut around it and build a window into the bottom of the inner tray (kind of insane and jobby, but I’ll do it if I have no other options lol) c) I say fuck it and cover it with the inner tray

2. How can I remove the ribbon and replace it with something that still complements the design? As it is, there are just slits cut in the board and the ribbon has been fed through and adhered under the paste down as well. The ribbon is quite wide, which isn’t my favorite. Thinking about creating a decorative bow which hides a snap closure.

ok those are the main Thoughts and now it’s past 3am and I’m getting pretty sleepy

good night! Absurdist costume party was great!!

—

djdjdjdjf I forgot to actually post this last night so anyways hi good morning