#reporting for duty as usual
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probablygayattorneys · 2 years ago
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mixelation · 3 months ago
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i am a scientist but i am also a true crime girlie. you cannot comprehend how many times a day i say shit like "a lack of evidence is not proof of innocence"
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months ago
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Yandere Contained Monstrous Family  
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Thinking about being born into a monstrous family
You, a baby human lovingly in the arms of a vampire man and his werewolf husband 
“Aw isn’t our little peony just perfect!”
“Another gorgeous cub, in our pack. Good job hon!”
“Thanks!”
Inside your opulent crib with a bone ladden mobile above you and the heads of two of your eldest siblings show
“They haven’t got nearly enough fur!” your moth brother says 
Your basilisk sister scoffs,” Or any scales for that matter!”
Life is lovely for awhile 
You’re the apple of everyone’s eye as the youngest of the family
But it’d be early on when you’d discover that wasn’t all that made you different
If they had been more careful perhaps you wouldn’t have discovered what the family hunts were all about 
Chasing humans–creatures just like you–for sport
Who could blame 5-year-old you?
The school lessons you’d sneak to listen to always said to call the authorities if something was wrong
You can vaguely recall the events that followed your brain clearly walling off the memory out of guilt
Time has passed and you are a partially thriving adult
Able to support yourself and devote your time to your study of the mythical
In a movement that had recently come to light, plenty of creatures spoken about in folktales were appearing
And your place of work was housing them
Housing was a strong word
maybe detaining and experimenting were better
As part of the maintenance crew, your job is to upkeep the creatures by their specified scientists demands
Occasionally offering your observations about whatever habits they have when it comes to eating, cleaning, etc.
As someone who’s been working with the facility for a long time so long you may not remember when you’ve become the experienced lead of your department
But you do still interact with the creatures specifically the most high-priority or high-maintenance ones
And like any other, you’ll report for duty with the newly acquired vampire 
Apparently, they’ve been talked about for their violence and intelligent ramblings
Claiming it was married to an earlier capture and the father of some others
So far it drained forty of your employees 
So now it was time for you to come face to face with this menace
You’ll wave off the security guard as you come up to the window
“Your file says your name is Villar? 
“GRAAGRH!!!”
“We won’t get very far if you keep lashing out like this. I’m in charge of making sure you eat, I suggest you get it in gear if you want to ever to see your husband again.”
At the mention of his husband the blonde vampire deflates
His black scleras morph into white 
He tiredly rests his head against the silver bars despite the skin burning
“You…will let me see him?”
You tilt your head sympathetically,” If you can comply with some of our tests. It’ll be a lot easier to make it a necessity for you two to meet if you cease killing so much of our staff.”
He growls tearing himself from the bars to glare 
“What do I have to do to see him?”
You smile flipping through your clipboard
“There’s three blood tests, four endurance tests, and intelligence quizzes for a start. That sound like a plan?”
The vampire reluctantly nods 
You look back at the camera and begin to walk out 
“Hey! What’s your name so I’ll know to tear your throat out if they lie to me?”
You smile again on your way out hushing the security guard
“I’m (Y/n). Pleasure meeting you Villar.”
The black-haired vampire loses his vitriol as he’s reminded of the little bundle he’s agonized over losing so long ago
“WAI–”
“Doctor (Y/n) your absolute genius has saved this company again.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I’m just someone trying to have a peaceful work environment.”
As planned you handle the older werewolf man
Violent, giant, and usually rotting in his corner 
He hasn’t moved much until you got involved
*knock**knock*
“Hey bud, I’ve got good news for you.”
At the sound of your voice, the werewolf Rod is at the silver bars, practically grazing them as he gets as close as he can to your little window
“Hello (Y/n), have you been eating well today?”
“Sure did but I have an update about your husband.”
He stills but looks interested
“He’s going to work with us so he can see you.”
“That is…what you want?”
“Yes and for you to do the same.”
He stands tall for once, taking an unusual air of authority
“I refuse to do anything if my conditions are not met.”
“Even if it means not seeing him again?”
He growls and turns away from the window
“Look my Uncle is not going to let me go in alone for your tests. Even if you’ve been peaceful so far, he just doesn’t want to take that chance.”
He snarls at the mention of your uncle 
“Fine. Then come in with twice as many guards but I will only agree if it’s you.”
You thank him for his time, “we’ll have to see what Uncle says.”
When you leave the werewolf man slinks back into his corner 
You’ll have to negotiate with your uncle about the most prized pieces of his collection his facility
Not to count the latest editions claiming to be related to the vampire and werewolf 
The real obsession starts because every member of the original family realizes just who you are 
And using your job as a mediator to piece together how you managed to slip out of their grasp
When Villar and Rod finally meet they nuzzle and kiss each other as they whisper to one another
“That’s them! Isn’t it? Our baby’s okay!”
“I know, now we just have to take them far away from here.”
Thus chaos is bound to ensue as they balance escaping with their long-lost human child 
With promises to pay back your abductor and all these scientists back ten-fold for the pain they’ve brought their little family
Part 2
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phantomrose96 · 6 months ago
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Sham Sacrifice
(Hi it's time for my favorite headcanon)
...
Vlad Masters sat firm and proper on the Fenton Family couch, legs crossed, teacup pinched in his fingertips, fighting subtly against the sinkhole that came with the mistake of taking Jack’s usual spot on the couch. He appeared with all the same charm and delightfulness of an ant swarm rearranging your picnic.
Danny stood at the doorway, just-still-in-the-kitchen, just not inviting himself to join the adults in the living room where Jack boomed and rambled and Vlad sat so stiff and polite and nice that his tea in his hands was going cold.
“Oh, Danny you’ll love this story—Danny, you should join us—Danny this was, what, summer of ’84? When was that heatwave, Vladdy? The one where you—”
“There’s no need to bore Daniel with the mad ravings of two old kooks, Jack. Kids would rather be off at the mall or—some store, surely. No need to stick around Daniel on my behalf. I assure you I won’t be offended if you leave.”
“No worries, V-man. I’m good right here. I love hearing Dad’s stories." Danny met Vlad's challenge, speaking with more poisonous courtesy than Vlad had proffered first. "In fact I think he should tell a few more, if he’s got more in mind.”
“In fact I do have more in mind—” Jack answered.
Neither Danny nor Vlad were listening to Jack. They held eye-contact, Danny with a stern unblinkingness of a sheepdog on duty. A lot was said without words. A lot was understood when Vlad decided to visit through the front door. Vlad only used the front door when he wanted something.
And it was never good when Vlad wanted something.
“—the core reactor project, yeah? That summer? That was in the lab with no A/C. Top floor. We were sweating like pigs, all of us. And I dared you to eat the really moldy pizza from our fridge the night before and you ralphed right into—”
“—Surely you remember this more fondly than I do. Daniel, really, you can go.”
Not a chance.
“Actually,” Danny answered, brightening some as his opportunity struck. “I am interested in this. For science class I need to write a report on the invention of an important piece of technology. I was gonna ask Mom and Dad about the Ghost Portal. And now that you’re here, I can get the whole history.”
Jack made a giddy little noise. He leaned forward, words primed, but Vlad was quicker to the draw.
“Sorry to say, your faith in me is unfounded. I wasn’t the portal guy back in college—that was always your mother and father’s passion project. I was their skeptic.”
“Bet that’s got you feeling pretty foolish right now, doesn’t it V-man?” Jack chided, a quick jab to Vlad’s ribs that nearly unseated the teacup from his suspended saucer. “Considering the fully-functioning portal right beneath our toes.”
“I hardly feel foolish, Jack. Your calculation for the portal in college was never going to work.”
“What do you mean? Of course it did.” Jack thumped the ground with his foot. “It’s running the old girl right now.”
At this, Vlad’s eyes narrowed. For the first time he’d been shaken off whatever skeezy machinations had brought him in. His pride was being challenged, and by Jack no less.
“Absolutely not. With that calculation? Absolutely not.”
“Well forget the tea biscuits Vlad, because you’re going to be eating your words in a second. Mads, hold my spot,” Jack said, as if anyone was planning to take his spot. He bounced from the couch, scooted from the living room, and vanished into the dark maw of the lab stairs, leaving only the waning beat of his footsteps behind.
His absence filled only a swallowing few seconds. The footsteps returned, bounding upward, creaking with his heavy cadence, and Jack bounced back into the room in much the manner he left. A pad of yellow lined paper was clutched in his hand. When he dropped it on the coffee table, it revealed row after row of tight scribble, churning math, carrying down the page and occupying two entire pages more that Jack flipped through.
“Same baby I came up with in college. It just needed heavier dampening and higher voltage than what we made back then. The portal downstairs has that in spades. Well, in like two-thirds of a spade.” Jack tapped something on the last line. “The projection was still only hitting 70% of the threshold we calculated to reach dimension penetration. But it’s an art, not just a science. We fired it up anyway, and it took!”
Vlad grabbed the paper pad, agitated. His eyes ran over it. Then again. Until he settled on one line, a firmness overcoming his face. He tossed the pad back onto the coffee table, and Vlad leaned back into the couch, arms crossed.
“The lambda, Jack.”
“The lambda?”
“Check it again.”
Jack did, lips pursed, pad of paper nearly swallowed in his big meaty hand.
“What about--?”
“It squares. The units don’t balance otherwise. It originates from an integration step of λ*∂λ/∂t. It squares.”
Jack’s brow remained furrowed, firm, until delight cracked into his eyes, and he let out a laugh.
“Gods, my handwriting is gonna be the death of us. Mads,” he tapped something unseen on the second page. “That’s the genius of Vladdy. Cracked this puppy wide open with just a glance. I never noticed that in all my checking. That explains the missing 30%, at least. That explains how the portal took. Lucky for you Danny that Vlad was here—”
“Jack,” Maddie said.
“—your report can have the correct formula. It’ll be—”
“—Jack—”
“—A+ worthy—”
“—Jack,” Maddie said, curt. “Lambda is the ambient ecto-energy. It’s a few ten-thousandths of a unit.”
“It—huh.”
Maddie had surfaced a pen from her pocket. She sheared a few blank pages out from the back of the pad and started the formula fresh. She made quick work of copying it over, quicker work of solving it through – lambda-squared intact.
She hit the final line and hatched a pen mark beneath the number. Jack stared, confused.
“That can’t… no.”
He repeated the same. New pages torn loose. Formula copied over, processed, line by line by line—lambda squared—by line by line by line.
Jack settled on his answer. Same as Maddie’s.
Confusion made his face tense.
“So it’s not 70% of the way to the threshold… It’s 0.013% of the way to the threshold.”
He held the pen hard, his whole body holding firm and taut as the gears turned in his head. Jack’s eyes flickered across the formula, again and again and again. He looked to Maddie, like a dog issued a command he did not understand.
“But it worked,” he said, small. “But it worked.”
Jack stood, robotic almost, eyes lost in something far away. He disappeared into the lab almost as quickly as he had a few minutes before, but now he exited with a smoothness and a quietness so very uncharacteristic of him. It bothered Danny, somewhere deep in his gut.
Maddie followed, a possession matching Jack’s.
Danny’s fingers curled and uncurled. He’d succeeded. He’s successfully interrupted Vlad’s… whatever this was. But the disquiet infected him. He didn’t like it.
“So what does that mean?” Danny asked, perhaps to Vlad. “What’s wrong with the calculation?”
Vlad sipped on tea ice cold.
“Who knows?” Vlad lied.
The math didn’t work.
Maddie and Jack burned through paper, burned through pencils, burned through hours.
The math didn’t work.
Clothes stuck to skin. Sweat lingered fetid and stale in the cold basement air. Exhaustion beat like a slurry through their veins.
The math didn’t work.
The portal supervised all, placidly green, the light for their table, the light for their work when the lightbulb overhead burnt clean out and neither Jack nor Maddie could be pulled away to replace it. It stood, it watched, a testament of contradiction to everything they could not solve on paper, and yet everything they built directly into the fabric of reality.
And it should never have worked.
They threw every radical what-if they’d ever conceived over 20 years of ghost research.
The ecto-ether layer.
The latent activation stitches in space fabric.
The anti-ectomatter collision proposal.
The positive-feedback crystallization theory.
And still nothing worked.
All together, every crackpot theory in their favor taken for granted, racked them up to an activation energy 200x more potent than the calculation, and still just 2% of what would be needed to rip open, and hold open, a stable fissure between their reality and the ghost zone.
Maybe by pure luck, unfathomable luck, Fentonworks basement was directly situated atop a natural portal.
Maybe that would explain ripping it open. It did nothing to explain the stability. Natural portals were unstable by definition. There and gone in a few seconds. Not hours, days, weeks, months, a year, that the Fenton Portal had been open. Never so much as faltering.
It was late. 3am ticked away to 4am, and 4:30am. The discarded paper stacked higher than Jack and Maddie both. Calluses oozed from their hands at another attempt, and another, and another.
Maddie flipped through a folder’s worth of yellowed papers, aggressively thumbed over and over after two decades left untouched. And she settled on the one she’d passed over a few dozen times already, always seeking something else, something better.
This time she unsheathed it, and she placed it on the lab table.
“…If a mouse died. In the machine. If a mouse ran through the machine and accidentally bridged two live wires, and died of violent electrocution. 500 milliamps. Instantly melted into the circuitry.”
Maddie’s mouth was cotton-dry while she wrote. Ambient ecto-energy was low. Always very, very low.
Unless something very, very bad happened to something with the capacity to become a ghost.
The numbers wove. Maddie started the formula fresh, and it was pure muscle memory. A mouse. A big mouse, even. A 99th percentile beast of a mouse. And a wire that had been wired incorrectly. Something grounded that never actually grounded. An absolutely horrific amount of electricity.
0.37%, by pure numbers. If she included every permissive crackpot idea they had thrown on top, it topped out at 6% of the needed activation threshold.
Not a mouse.
“A cat,” Jack said, words gummy, tongue dry, face tired. “If we’ve got mice down here, maybe… a stray cat wandered in. Chased the mouse.”
Maddie nodded. It didn’t matter if it made sense.
She penned it in. A large cat. A devastating electrical short. Cats carried more ecto-potential than mice did. Ecto-potential did not necessarily go up with size. It went up with complexity. The things with the most ecto-potential were the things that most became ghosts.
1.45%, by pure numbers. 18% at absolute, absolute crackpot best.
“A dog,” Jack proposed with a shaky laugh. He swallowed. “A mouse… chased by a cat… chased by a dog… all electrocuted at once”
Maddie didn’t say the thing they both knew, which was that both of them would have noticed the evidence left behind by the electrically exploded pieces of a dog.
Maddie did it anyway. A mouse and a cat and a medium-sized dog, maybe just small enough to notice no evidence of, all together. All at once. All violently ripped apart, sacrificed to a machine still asleep in its wall.
Mice did not often make ghosts. Cats did not either. Dogs, occasionally. But infrequently. Very infrequently.
37%. At best.
“Jack.”
“Maddie, I know just—maybe something really smart—”
“—Jack—”
“—like an octopus—”
“Jack.”
“I hear, maybe, pigs are smart. If it was—”
Maddie was writing, already. Not for a pig. Not an octopus. Jack watched, and he knew what the numbers meant. The ecto-potential she penned gave her away. An ecto-potential that high.
65kg, an estimate
10,000 milliamps, a catastrophic accident, a death certificate.
A human’s amount of ecto-potential.
Maddie wrote.
And she wrote.
And she did not apply a single crackpot theory, not a single discredited proposal, not an ounce of exaggeration.
138%.
Threshold, and then some.
Comfortable, easily, then some.
For the first time, after all the hundreds of times she and Jack had penned this equation over the course of 2 decades, the number met her and Jack’s threshold.
A breakthrough.
A revelation.
A pure eureka moment.
Jack and Maddie were silent.
Alone in a humming basement. Alone with only the soft swirls of the portal for company, happy, stable, purring its contentment, singing to the cold air.
“It has to be something else,” Maddie said. And she said it weakly. And she said it childishly.
“You’re right. It can’t be this,” Jack echoed. “If someone died down here, we’d know. Dead bodies don’t walk away. We’d have seen it. O-or even if, if the body got stuck in the portal, we’d have heard of someone going missing.”
Maddie sat, quiet. A thought held her mind hostage.
“Unless they didn’t go missing,” Maddie said, and she said it barely audibly. “Unless the portal spit them right back out.”
“Then—that’s what I said—a dead body, on the floor, we’d have seen.”
“Not a dead body.”
“It had to be lethal, Mads—”
“I know Jack. But if they died, here, in the portal Jack, then their ghost did not get ripped away from the body and sent to the Ghost Zone. …They ripped the Ghost Zone here.” Palms slick with sweat smoothed over her notes. She pointed to one specific line and found her pen tip trembled no matter how badly she stabilized it. “The ecto-potential of a creature is how strong of a pull their ghost creates on the Ghost Zone. A strong enough pull means the ghost can reach the Ghost Zone and stabilize, like a fish reeling itself up, yeah? We agree on this Jack, yes?”
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“It’s what makes the math even work, Jack. Someone dying in the portal didn’t reel themselves to the boat. They reeled the boat in. Jack, they brought the Ghost Zone here…” Maddie wasn’t breathing right. She pulled sweat-soaked bangs away from her face. “Their ghost never left their body Jack. They died, Jack. And they walked back out.”
“…No. No,” Jack said. “No, they didn’t.”
“Then what?” Maddie asked.
Jack stared. He looked away. He didn’t like the expression on Maddie’s face.
“It—what about the ecto-ether theory?” Jack said, of the theory they’d tested and retested and tested all over, all night. He grabbed his pencil back up and pointed it aimlessly at Maddie’s piece of paper, pointed end out in self-defense. “If the ecto-ether is maybe… if it’s only 250-times stronger than we calculated. Then it could…”
Jack’s voice died. His pencil hung idle. Maddie’s paper remained unblemished.
“If it… was a pig,” Jack offered. “If it was a pig that died in the portal.”
“How, Jack? How would a pig get in? We lock all the doors at night, Jack. No one else can get in, Jack. It’s just us, Jack.”
Jack and Maddie were not there when the portal turned on.
Maddie’s statement carried two possibilities. Only two. Both felt like claws digging all the flesh right out of Jack’s heart.
“I want… I want to try the ecto-ether theory again,” Jack choked. “I think it’s the ecto-ether. I think it’ll work.”
Jack slid a piece of paper over, already covered in scribbles. In its single untouched corner, he started the equation for the several-thousandth time that night.
Above their head, birds were singing.
Sunrise hailed unseen from the windowless laboratory.
At 6am, Vlad answered his cell phone. The reception crackled, struggling through the layers of sheetrock above his head.
“Vlad?” Maddie’s voice crackled. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Not at all my dear.” Vlad leaned his weight against the wall, playing with the singsong melody in his voice. “But you sound exhausted. Is anything the matter?”
“Yes. Well… Yes. Jack and I have—all night—trying to fix the equation.”
“Naturally.”
“We found something that maybe works.”
“Oh?” Vlad asked. He straightened, pacing now, cracklingly attentive. “And what might that—”
“If someone died. Activating the portal. We have an on-switch inside the portal’s interior. The trigger we use to press it is external to the portal, of course. But if someone went inside the portal, and they pressed it directly, and if they died, and pulled the Ghost Zone here—”
Vlad’s red eyes reflected pools of iridescent green. He twirled his free hand in the fringes of his cape, tongue working over the fanged edges of his teeth. He stared, consumed, forward.
“—and just, you, I was thinking, you’re the only other expert I’d trust to… maybe weigh in.”
“What does Jack think?”
“He denies it. He’s still. He’s trying other theories.”
“Well who knows, surely? The answer may lie somewhere you haven’t looked.”
“…I’ve looked everywhere, Vlad. That's the thing. There is no more ‘somewhere else’. I’ve looked.”
“You sound like your mind is made up.”
“I just… if maybe you have some idea.”
“Am I meant to talk you out of this idea?”
“Vlad.”
“Do you think I have some secret information you don’t? Sorry to say, I’m just your skeptic.” Some noise came through muffled from the other side. Vlad flashed a smile. “But…as your skeptic I will offer you this—It all sounds a bit absurd, doesn’t it? To kill someone and have them come back intact and… for you to never notice? Who would they be? How would they be? Surely not human anymore, surely. How would you never notice?”
Vlad paced forward, booted feet clicking along his laboratory floor.
“It would be ridiculous,” he continued, with a building crescendo, “so unfathomably self-centered surely, to not notice something like that befall someone so close to you, who died at the hands of your own invention? …If I’m correctly inferring who, in your household, you suspect of having activated the portal?” Vlad’s tongue lingered along his teeth.
Maddie’s line held, quiet. And the seconds of static drew long.
“Ah, apologies. I’ve overstepped,” Vlad continued. “I meant this as a vote of confidence in you. You and Jack both. Two people as attentive, caring, compassionate as yourselves. You would notice. I promise.”
“You’re… Okay, thank you, Vlad. I appreciate it.”
“Is there anything else, my dear?”
“No. No. Thank you, Vlad. I’ll think about this.”
Maddie’s line clicked dead. A chuckle built to Vlad’s lips and he let his head tip back with mirth. It lasted only a moment. He stowed his phone. And as if the interruption had never happened, Vlad reaffixed his attention on his own portal swirling in front of him. It bathed him, swimming green, purring contentment.
And Vlad vanished into his portal.
(Chapter 2)
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robboyblunder · 25 days ago
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As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.
This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!
ID in ALT text!
Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.
“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.
Begin Transcript:
A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates
While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,
The true source is surprisingly Human.
Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn
The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…
But one thing is Certain:
Natural forces do not change easily.
Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects
by His command
A violent injection of pure elemental magic
Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…
These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,
However….
… new powers are a dangerous toy.
While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”
First formed, they are still elements;
Torrential, Aimless,
Incapable of coherent thought or rules
-but with time, coherence returns to the individual
Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.
The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…
First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”
Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable
The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.
The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.
Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.
In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.
Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.
If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.
Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.
When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:
Raw: Hell, contained
Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas
Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas
Stabilized: anywhere people go
Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!
They tend to provide free protection to keep their home
Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;
One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.
Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;
This seems especially true near ministry placements.
Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal
Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.
Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,
They don’t always like this however (see other guide).
The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth
However, there are two channels through which they serve.
1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic
Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live
2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.
Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;
Like the creation of a ghoul,
Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature
The force of such pull is incredible,
A disorientating test of will so great…
…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.
This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;
But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.
Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;
Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.
Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.
They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.
Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.
Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.
Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract
Will have dire consequences.
Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.
Tiers:
Rarity of an element does not equal strength.
The break down is as follows:
Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.
Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.
Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.
Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.
Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.
S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.
End transcript.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months ago
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heyy, I just saw the first episode of season two and I’m completely destroyed. I need to read something with Jacaerys in which reader gives him a hug after what happened 🫶🏻
Request: Helloooo! I saw you were open to requests sooo with this episode- how about instead of Baela being the one to take Jace to Rheanyra, its reader who had been waiting for him since he landed? Jace x reader relationship is up to you!
I have written this a few weeks ago, but let's do a small blurb. Seeing Jace break was just so sad. Grab your tissues 🤧
Warnings: mention of character death, grief
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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On the journey back to Dragonstone, Jacaerys swallowed back his tears. Vermax could feel that his rider was in pain, but he stayed focused on flying home. 
Although you couldn’t predict when they would arrive, you knew Jacaerys would fly home immediately upon receiving the letter. 
You greeted him outside when he landed, but Jacaerys refused to meet your eyes, focussing on princely duties because he could not bear to face his role as brother and son in that moment. He spoke like a prince, asking to be taken to the Queen so he could give her his report. 
Without speaking a word, you walked him to Rhaenyra’s chambers. The guards opened the door for you, nodding their heads at the prince. As you stepped inside, Rhaenyra turned at the sound of your footsteps on the stone floor. 
You bowed to the Queen, casting a last glance on Jacaerys before you left the room. ‘’You know where to find me,’’ you whispered to him, your voice barely audible. 
He didn’t respond. 
While he spoke to his mother about the Vale and the North, Jacaerys was trying to remain professional and keep his composure. He needed to stay strong for her. His voice was steady until he mentioned the North. The name of Cregan Stark brought back the images of the northman delivering the news of Lucerys’s death, causing Jacaerys to choke up on his words.
Rhaenyra held her eldest and they cried together. 
When he thought the tears were over, Jacaerys left his mother’s chambers. Servants were politely nodding their head at him on his way to his own chambers, a veil of sympathy on their faces. But Jacaerys paid them no attention as his emotions were threatening to spill again. 
As promised, you were sitting on his — your — chambers when he stepped in, waiting for him. You stood when hearing the door, and he broke down completely, his body shaking with sobs as he collapsed into your arms. 
You held Jacaerys tightly as he sobbed uncontrollably, his grief pouring out with each shuddering breath. 
You always knew him as the strong son of Princess Rhaenyra who held his head high and never let anything affect him. The strength he usually exuded was gone, replaced by the vulnerability of a boy who had lost his brother. It was gut-wrenching to see him cry, his hands clutching at your dress to anchor himself through the storm of his emotions.
‘’He died because of me,’’ he whispered between sobs, his voice raw with pain. ‘’It was my idea to go on dragonback instead of sending ravens.’’ 
Guilt laced his voice, and you pulled his head back, seeing his eyes red and swollen. You knew no words would stop his guilt. He would have to live with his for the rest of his life. But you could try to show him he was not entirely at fault. It was Vhagar at the commands of Aemond targaryen who killed Lucerys. Not him.
‘’Mayhaps it was your idea, but you couldn’t have known Aemond would be at Storm’s End asking for support from Borros Baratheon. He is the one responsible for this barbarous act,’’ you said, holding his gaze.
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wttcsms · 7 months ago
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triple trouble, atsumu miya
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!
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The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 
The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 
All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 
After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 
While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 
A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.
“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.
“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 
After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 
“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 
Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 
“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 
There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)
“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 
Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 
Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 
“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 
“Dada found me!” 
“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 
After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 
“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.
“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 
“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 
Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 
“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 
“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”
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You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 
“Had a good day today?”
“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.
“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”
“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.
“Hmm, I guess so.” 
“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 
“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 
“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 
“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 
You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 
“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 
You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 
He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 
“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  
As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 
“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.
“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 
“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.
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pinejayy · 13 days ago
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╰➤ A Helping Hand
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paring: trafalgar law x f!reader ,, implied relationship
summary: law is locked away in his office as usual and he seems stressed out, and you offer a helping hand and mouth to relieve his stress.
warnings: dry humping, handjob, blowjob, dirty talking, teasing, fingering, hair pulling, face fucking, eating out.
✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦
Once again your boyfriend Law was hidden away in his office doing paperwork…Again. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten alone time with your boyfriend.
At the moment the crew was doing their daily work around the ship and you were helping Bepo clean the deck. And you couldn’t help but think about your boyfriend, looking around. Bepo was clearly distracted…the bear was taking a nap on the floor. Which gave you an idea. If he was getting a break then maybe you should get one too. Smirking to yourself, you sneak away and walking towards his office.
You knock on the door and he didn’t reply, and you slowly open the door and Law was working as usual. Again? How much paper work does someone have? Watching him you could tell he was stressed out. Maybe you could give him a helping hand.
Walking into his office, and locking the door behind you. "Hello Captain."
"Why aren't you doing your chores with Bepo?" He said, not even sparing you a glance. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment. Walking towards him, he seemed really focused on his work. So you decided to wiggle your way onto his lap. Sitting, which earned a soft sigh from Law. He placed a small kiss against your check. "Need something, I'm busy at the moment. I need to finish this report.."
As he spoke he seemed uneasy and stressed. "Paperwork again?" You spoke softly and Law just nodded at your words. "It's always paperwork with you, you need a small break. You look like you're all stressed and pent up."
Which was true, Law tends to avoid any needs or getting breaks because of 'paperwork'.
"Well sorry to break it to you but that's the life of a Captain..." Mumbling softly at your words. He placed one hand on your thigh and gave you a firm squeeze. While he was still working and writing away.
"Why would a pirate even need to do paperwork? It's not like you're turning it in to someone." You say softly, leaning in and nuzzling your face to his neck. Taking in his secent. "You're probably the only pirate who does this boring stuff."
Law couldn't help but squeeze your thigh more, being this close to you is making him uneasy...he needed something but duty comes first. "I'm just making sure everything runs smoothly on the polar tang, I need to do this paperwork." He gave a quick glance before going back to his paperwork.
You stay quite, the room was filled with his soft mumbling and the pen against the paper. He really did seem uneasy. Which gave you an idea..
"Aww Captain. May I offer a helping hand."
"No, no offense Y/N...but if I allow you to help me out with the paperwork you'll only make it worse and I'll have to work on it mo..." He began to speak but was cut off. His words seemed to be stuck on his throat.
You were moving your hips against his thigh, whimpering against his neck. Law couldn't help but feel his cock twitch. He groans softly, placing the pen down. Grabbing your hips with his hands and he held you in place. And he began moving his hips upwards. Dry humping you, and immediately you look at him and smirk. You could already feel his cock grow harder by the the second.
"I'm trying to work here and you come here and do this crap." He groans, moving his hips against yours. To which you move your hips against his making him twitch slightly.
"Aw I'm just offering a helping hand."
"Like I said ...you'll only make it worse...you can't do the paperwork properly."
To which you smirk and flick his forehead which earned you a cold look from Law. "Aw why don't I just show you what I meant." You cooed softly and place a gentle kiss against his neck and slid down and onto your knees.
"You just work Captain...and I'll be here." You say and look up at him, he watches you as you were on your needs and he sighed.
"Whatever...just hurry up."
And with that you began to undo his belt and his pants. Law lifted his butt slightly so you could pull his pants off with ease. "Just do your paperwork. Since you love it so much."
Law just grumbles at your words, but in reality he felt really pent up. His cock twitched slightly he needed something .. anything.
You couldn't help but lick your lips as you watch his hard dick pressed against the fabric of his boxers. Slowly you wrap your fingers against the waistband and pull them down slowly. And once they were off his dick sprung up. Pre cum leaking from the head, and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the beautiful view.
He tried to focus on his work but he needed something...he was almost willing to beg. So he was tapping his foot against the floor. "Tsk Tsk Tsk Captain. Someone is very impatient. But I'm feeling like a good girl today and I won't tease you as much."
Law groans and throws his head back, enjoying himself. He did need a break after all. And since you were offering a helping hand he might as well take your offer.
You lean in and place a long and slow lick under his cock. Eyeing him and studying his reactions. And he seemed to be enjoying himself so you continue.
Dragging your tongue along his dick and rub his balls slightly. Making him groan. "Stuipd Brat...my paperwork..."
"Well be my guest. Do your paperwork since it's the only thing you do around here."
Law couldn't help but chuckle at your words. "Sounds like you're jealous of my paperwork..hmm" He teased slightly.
To which you gave his cock a small squeeze making him moan softly. "Hmm maybe a little. Because at least you do your paperwork. I don't remember the last time you did me." Adjusting yourself.
Giving his cock one more lick before spitting on it and humming softly, watching the spit drip down. "It's been lonely without you, and quite frankly my fingers and toys don't get the job done...not like you do."
He sighs and spreads his legs more, making himself comfortable. "I know I know.. I promise tonight I'll treat you real good, make you feel real good."
Biting your lip at his words. "You better keep your promise Captain." Teasing slightly and moving your hands slowly against his needy cock making him whimper softly. You couldn't help but feel the wetness between your legs grow even more, especially with his soft moans.
As you move your hand against his cock Law was moaning softly, his head against the headrest of his chair. "Good girl ..."
Making you whimper softly, moving your hands slightly faster and you look at him and god it was a beautiful sight.
"God Dammit woman... can't wait to fuck you....fuck you hard that you won't be able to walk."
His lewd words where getting to you, and you stroke him slowly. Teasing him, batting your eyelashes.
"Aw...you would want that right? Me underneath you Captain. Moaning into your ear, moaning your name out." Cooing out, your strokes getting slower and steady, making him groan at your words. He couldn't help but grab a hand full of your hair. Making you yelp softly, Law’s breathing was getting heavier by the second.
"Don't give me that innocent look...you little tease.. "
"Aw but it's true, I bet you want that Captain. I bet you need me so bad. I need you Captain. I need your cock inside of me." You keeping teasing him. Giving his cock a tight squeeze, and suddenly his grip on your hair tightened.
"Oh yeah? You want to keep running your mouth with these dirty words ya?" He growled slightly and the next words he spoke was in more of a demanding tone. His so called 'Captain Voice.' Giving your hair a slight tug before speaking up once again. “Considering you want to run that dirty mouth of yours with nonsense, let’s put that pretty little mouth to good use.” And with that Law couldn’t help but rub a thumb across your lip.
“Now be a good girl for me…and make your captain feel real good.” He said, grabbing his cock and slapping your cheek slightly. “Now open wide baby.”
Biting your lip at his words, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. And he placed the tip of his cock against your tongue. Already tasting the salty precum against your tongue. Wrapping your lips against the tip and proceeding to suck on it slightly.
“That’s right…just like that baby. Such a good girl.” He said and leaned his head back. Enjoying himself and attention his dick is getting.
The room was filled with soft moans spilling out from Law and dirty words along with your slight muffed gags and moans. You could feel the wetness between your legs grow even more.
Moaning against him, he groans and grips your hair and guides your head to his desire pace. You continue to bob your head against him, using your tongue to press against the bottom of his cock making him moan. “Fuck…keep going…good girl.”
Law kept bobbing your head up and down, and he could tell you were desperate for something and he smirks. “Go on Princess, touch yourself.”
You wasted no time, you pulled away slightly from him which there was a small ‘pop’ sound. Not breaking eye contact with him, you slowly undo your bottoms and tug them down. Just enough for you to shove your hand into your panties. And before you could touch yourself Law spoke up. “Now I want you to maintain eye contact. Can you do that?” To which you nodded and Law grabbed his cock and slapped your check with it. “With words. Use your words.”
“Yes…Yes Captain.”
“Good..that’s a good girl.” He teased, and held his cock against your lips. “Now open up again.”
And with that you obeyed and opened up once again and took him in your mouth once again. Slowly you drag you hand into your underwear. And wasted no time playing with your clit.
Moaning around him sent a shiver across Law’s back. As you continue to bob your head up and down. You slowly inserted two fingers inside of you. Moaning even more. You desperately needed him inside of you.
Being lost into your own pleasure, Law thought that you were moving a little too slow for his liking so he held your face in place and started to thrust up. Face fucking you. Which made you gag around him.
“Relax…relax your throat…” He demanded and stopped for a moment.
Taking a deep breath, and once you relaxed he wasted no time holding your head still and using your mouth as his personal sex toy.
While he was face fucking your mouth you couldn’t help but feel more aroused by his actions. You fingers moving faster inside of you, curling your fingers slightly to get the prefect spots. Your gags and moans were music to his ears.
“I’m close…hold still ..” He moans out. And Law had to bite his lower lip from moaning out. God it’s been awhile since he’s had a release.
His thrusting where getting sloppier and that’s when you moved your fingers away from your needy pussy and you began to rub his balls. Giving them a slight squeeze. Making Law moan your name out. “God dammit Y/N….”
And with that he let out a loud moan, to which he quickly let go of your hair to cover his mouth. Cumming hard into your mouth. Spilling his warm juices against your tongue.
Swallowing every last drop he could offer.
Bobbing your head a few more times before pulling away from him. A trail of saliva and cum dripping down from your lips. Giving the head a few more kisses before Law growled and grabbed your hair and dragging you up to you feet and before you could say anything he already slammed you against the desk. Tugging your bottoms and underwear fully off. Opening your legs. Exposing your wet pussy to him and he wasted no time diving into your folds.
“Need to taste you…so badly…” Moaning into your folds.
His tongue was everything, not finding a place to pay attention. You could tell he was very desperate to taste you. And in reality you’ve never seen him this needy, especially while eating you out.
He pulls away slightly and groaned under his breath. Rubbing your clit as he watched your face reactions. He spreads your folds slightly, exposing your more. Leaning in once again, he gave you sloppy licks.
Your moans had gotten louder and Law quickly gave your clit a soft bite making you whimper.
“Shh…the crew could hear us.”
You cover your mouth and nodded. Which Law smirked and dove back into his meal. He placed your thighs on his shoulders so he could eat you out better. “So good…you taste so good.” He keeps mumbling.
Slowly he sneaks his fingers inside of your. Thrusting them in and out.
God this combination was going to make you explode. His tongue against your clit and his deadly fingers inside of you.
Law felt yours walls tightened around his fingers and he chuckled and eyes your reaction. Your eyes were locked onto his his. He wanted to see you cum. Law gave your clit a few more licks before you were already moaning his name and reaching your own climax.
“Oh captain!”
Law quickly licked your juices up and your moans didn’t seem to quite down and he growled. Moving up towards you and took your lips against his. Sharing a deep and heated kiss. Forcing his tongue to roam around your mouth.
Both tongues covered in your guys juices where now being mixed between the both of you. And both of you were loving this. Before the kiss could get even more heated he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours.
“Thank you…I really need this.”
You were panting slightly. “Of course..I needed this too silly.” Kissing his check, and he couldn’t help but blush slightly. “I love you…I love you Law.”
Law stayed quiet and felt butterflies in his stomach. “I love you too Y/N.” He smiled and placed a kiss against your forehead.
The office was silent for awhile before he spoke up again.
“Now. About your comment from earlier. How I do more paperwork than you. Hmm how about I change that Princess.”
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evaslytherpuff · 1 month ago
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Press Play
18+ Theo Nott X Innocent F!Reader (College AU)
Plot: You were just trying to do your duties as a Prefect. After catching Theo stealing from the potions closet, you had no choice but to report him. Now, Theo is out for revenge! You become his latest target and he’s willing to do anything to make sure you learn your lesson. Never snitch on a Slytherin.🐍
CW: Blackmail, Toxic Behavior, Manipulation, Teasing, Masturbation, Oral (F!receiving), Dubious Consent, Recorded interactions without consent! This story is not intended for Minors! Read at your own risk!
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“Detention for a month! A fucking month!” Theo growled as he stormed into Herbology and took his designated seat next to Draco who was swatting at his Dittany plant.
“Damn, I feel sorry for you mate.” Draco chuckled with a shake of his icy blonde head. Theo wasn’t in the mood to laugh, smile, or joke around in the slightest. All he could do was stare daggers in your direction. The person who got him in trouble in the first place by being a little snitch. You had caught him stealing ingredients out of the professor's potions closet and immediately ran off to tell Slughorn what you witnessed. You claimed that you only did it because you were supposed to, you’re a prefect, it’s your job to report when students break the rules. Theo didn’t want to hear any of it as he left the professor’s office, his body trembling with rage.
You must have felt him glaring at you because you looked up and locked eyes with him. Your face grew pale and you quickly looked back down at your textbook, pretending to not notice the death stare you were receiving. Theo smiled to himself. Good. You should be intimidated, maybe even scared, you may look sweet and innocent but he didn���t care. He was now out for revenge.
When class was over you had tried to flee as quickly as possible but Theo was a lot faster and cornered you outside of the greenhouse. His hands were placed on either side of your head which caged you in and prevented you from escaping.
“You know…I always thought you were so kind and a girl who usually minded her own business. Now, all I see is someone who has a big mouth!” He growled in your ear as he leaned over you. “You didn’t have to say a damned thing to Professor Slughorn and yet…you did.” He sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “You snitched on me, got me in trouble, almost kicked off the quidditch team and for that…I want revenge.” His jaw clenched tightly as he stared into your frightened eyes.
“Is that a threat?” You tried your best to sound strong and powerful but he could hear the fear in your voice. It was obvious that his words freaked you out. He dropped his arms and stepped away from you with a vicious grin on his face.
“No. It’s a promise.” He spat with a glare before turning around and walking away.
Merlin, or the devil, must have been on his side the very next day because you had a huge accident right in the middle of the great hall during dinner. A clumsy Hufflepuff was switching seats at their table and ran right into you with a plate full of food. Your uniform was ruined and you were covered in a plethora of messy cuisine. Completely shocked and mortified, you fled from the hall holding back tears. Theo had to admit that he felt bad for you, maybe for a split second, but he also saw this as an opportunity.
“I’ll see you later.” He said with a pat to Mattheo’s back before he left the hall as well. He jogged to his dorm to search for what he needed and felt a sense of mischief wash over him when he found what he was looking for. A video camera.
He was fascinated with gadgets and gizmos muggles were always using, he even used magic to fix or improve them, and he knew that this device would come in handy. Feeling giddy and still angry, he set out to find you, already having a clue as to where you might be.
His hunch was absolutely correct and he found you alone in the girls locker room taking a shower. He cast a silencing charm on the door to remain as quiet as possible and a disillusionment charm on himself so he wouldn’t be seen. He crept up to the stall you were using and turned the camera on. Theo tried to be as silent as humanly possible as he stuck the lens of the device through the side of the shower curtain. He watched the display closely as your body came into focus and had to do a double take. He wasn’t expecting you to be so…sexy.
He swallowed hard as he gawked at your wet figure gracing the screen of his camera. You typically wore a school uniform that was two sizes too big for you and it was clearly hiding your mouth watering shape. The water shimmered off of your beautiful breasts, cascaded down sensual curves, and created a wet vision he thought he could only dream of. There you were though, in all your soaked glory, like one of his wildest fantasies.
He couldn’t fight the hard on that was raging in his pants as he watched you bathe, your palms roaming all over your alluring body. He was never envious of soap before until tonight. His free hand traveled down to rub his length through the fabric of his trousers. His eyes were glued to the screen of his camera as your hand slid down the front of your torso and stopped just above your pretty pussy. A sigh left your lips before you dipped your fingers between your folds and Theo’s eyes grew wide over the realization of what you were about to do. Soft moans floated through the air as you began to rub your sensitive clit in steady and firm motions. His hand ran over his aching cock as quickly as you worked your precious cunt. He bit his lip to stop the groans from escaping his mouth as he watched you masturbate in front of him. Sweet and innocent my ass, he thought, as he stopped himself from cumming in his boxers. A delicious scheme popped into his mind as you covered your mouth with your other hand and your climax overcame you. A wicked and cruel idea that would guarantee his revenge without a doubt. He would get you back for snitching on him…but he would also get what he now wanted more than anything.
Theo paced his dorm anxiously. You had received his note in class that demanded you meet him after detention at 9pm. If you didn’t show, his initial plan ultimately failed, it would also spell disaster for you. Deep down inside…he was hoping you’d knock on his door.
As if on cue, a gentle tapping echoed throughout his room. He took a deep breath before yanking open his door and smirking down at you as you stood in the entrance.
“Come in.” Theo gestured for you to step into his private dorm. You hesitated but walked inside with your hands clasped behind your back. Your nerves were plastered all over your face as your eyes scanned his bedroom. He had cleaned it, making sure it was utterly spotless. He didn’t want anything giving away what he was truly up to.
“Theodore…please accept my apology. I really am sorry that I reported you to Professor Slughorn. I was just doing what I’m told. I had to say something because I thought you…might be up to no good. I didn’t even stop to ask you what you needed the ingredients for. I just made assumptions and that was wrong of me.” You frowned and started to fidget with the hem of your skirt. Theo’s eyes couldn’t help but drift to the glimpse of your thighs that was revealed in your motions.
“You really got me into a mess. I hope you understand that. It’s great that I have…a way with words, and convinced our professor to just give me detention. He was going to kick me off the fucking Quidditch team! He mentioned possible expulsion! Do you really think “sorry” is enough to fix this? It’s not!” He paused. “I have something in mind though. Why don’t you take a seat.” He waved towards his bed and leered at you while you sank down on the edge of his mattress.
He had you right where he wanted you. Things were going perfectly and according to plan. Theo was practically vibrating with excitement over his possible win. He sat down beside you and noticed how you flinched as he reached behind you for the remote on his pillow. He stifled a chuckle as he placed the device in your hand.
“Why don’t you press play, Cara Mia.” He whispered in your ear and took in how you shivered beside him. Your hand shook uncontrollably as you raised the remote and aimed it at his television. You were reluctant to press the button until he cleared his throat which caused you to click play quickly.
He had his gaze glued to your face while you were focused on the TV. He took in each and every expression you made as tears welled in your pretty eyes and your breathing became erratic. Your hand covered your mouth in horror over your shower video that you were currently watching.
“Who knew you had all of that hidden under your uniform, Bella.” He cooed in your ear and you flung yourself away from him and stood up from the bed.
“You—you recorded me? Why? I already said I was sorry!” You shrieked as tears streamed down your adorable face.
“You can prove just how sorry you are to me. You almost got me expelled! You nor Professor Slughorn asked what I even intended to do with the ingredients I stole! Right away you saw me as the bad guy! Well…now I am the bad guy. Sit! Down!” He shouted and you swiftly obeyed as he turned off the television. He moved to kneel down on the floor in front of you and reached out to wipe the tears from your face but you smacked his hand away. He sighed in frustration after you turned down his attempt at kindness so he gripped your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him.
“You are going to do everything I tell you until my revenge is complete and it won’t be finished until I say it is. You won’t protest, you won’t say no to me, no ifs ands or buts. If you defy me in any way…I’ll show your little video to everyone in school. Do you understand me?” He growled in your face and you nodded frantically against his palm. He released your chin and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.
“Wha—what do you want me to do? I—I’ll do your homework, I’ll give you my notes, I’ll help you study. I—I’ll assist you in any way just please, I’m begging you, don’t show that video to anyone. Please, Theodore.” More tears spilled from your eyes as he stood up to look down at you.
“Ha. You think I need help with school? No. No no no.” He tsked and peered into your eyes. “I want to have my way with you. You will meet me here every night exactly at 9pm and you will do whatever I say. There will be a few rules though. No kissing. Don’t leave any marks where people can see them. You can’t tell anyone about this. Finally, don’t catch feelings! After seeing your…video, how could I resist? You’re awfully tempting.” He helped you stand up as your face paled and jaw dropped. He couldn’t help but smirk when you struggled to form a coherent sentence.
“What’s the matter, Bella? Cat got your tongue?” He taunted as he removed your robe and pulled your tie over your head. He started to undo the buttons of your top when you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.
“Are—are you serious, Theodore? Sex? Th—that’s what you want?” He tilted his head at you when he noticed your lip quivering and fresh tears run down your devastated face. He felt a slight pang in his chest seeing how upset you were but he still wasn’t going to change his mind. You almost got him kicked out of school.
“Of course I am. I promise it won’t be so bad. You just have to do whatever I say. That’s all. If you misbehave in any way, I’ll share your video. All you gotta do is be a good girl and things will be fine. Okay. So…let’s begin.” He paused. “Take off your shirt.” He said sternly while you just glared at him, your expressions a mix of anger and distress over your new situation. Your hands trembled as you slowly undid one button at a time then hesitated before you slid the top from your shoulders and let the material fall down your arms. Now, you were just standing in your bra and skirt and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He loved how your lace bra perfectly hugged your breasts and his fingers itched to cup and play with your tits. He stalked closer to you and gently clasped your throat in his hand, your eyes growing wide as you gasped, before pushing you down to lay on his bed. Your legs still hung off the edge of the mattress as he moved to lay beside you. He took a moment to really take you in while he was propped up on his elbow before releasing your neck to run his fingers over your collarbone. He ran the back of his knuckles slowly up and down your chest. He repeated these soft motions hoping that it would help you relax but your body remained tense and you refused to look at him.
“Look at me.” He murmured softly in your ear. You shut your eyes tightly before turning your head to face him. You took a few deep breaths before opening your eyes for him. His hand finally cupped your boob and you hissed in a breath. He groaned over the softness of your breast blending perfectly with the texture of your bra. He palmed and caressed your chest as you trembled beside him. He switched to your other boob and you tried to hold back on a whimper.
“Merlin! You’re so sensitive. It’s okay…you can let it out. I want to hear you. Remove your bra for me, Bella.” He breathed in your ear and watched goosebumps spread across your skin. You stared up at the canopy of his bed as you lifted yourself up a bit to undo the clasps of your bra. You slipped it from your body and quickly covered your chest with your arms. He rolled his eyes as you laid back down next to him.
“I’ve already seen them before or should I play the video again to remind you?” He smirked and leaned in to pepper your neck with kisses.
“No! I just—I’m nervous alright!” You groaned in frustration as you slowly removed your arms from your chest and glued them to your sides. Your eyes were shut firmly and your breathing was shaky as you displayed just how nervous you were, your body stiff as a board.
“Relax, Bella. I’ve got you.” He whispered as his gaze drank in the beauty of your chest exposed to the cool air of his room. Your pretty nipples pebbled from the cold right before his eyes and his hand reached out to pinch one between his fingers. He brought his head down to slip the other into his mouth and you yelped from the warmth of his tongue. He pulled away from your body with a glare.
“Damn woman, you really are sensitive. Are you alright?” He asked with sincere concern.
“No! I’m not alright! That’s such a ridiculous question! This is just…it’s just too much for me. I said I was sorry and it didn’t help. Look at where my actions have gotten me.” More tears formed in your eyes and a part of him knew he had to comfort you. Sure he was pissed at you for snitching on him but something about you tugged at his heart. He couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Look, I accept your apology. Try to see things from my perspective. You almost got me expelled. How would you feel if you were me?” He asked as he moved to lay over you. Your face was inches away from his and you frowned.
“I wouldn’t do this to someone. I wouldn’t blackmail them. I—I don’t know what I would have done.” You said softly and looked away.
“Try and see it this way. The two of us are just blowing off steam and having a good time. No strings attached. You could do whatever you want to me. Try something you’ve never done before. As long as you’re good, your video is safe with me.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb and you bit your bottom lip.
“I—I’ve…never done…any of this before.” You said sadly and sniffled.
“Wait…are you saying…you’re a virgin?” He asked as he sought out your eyes. You refused to make eye contact with him but you nodded without another word.
That’s what it was! Your innocence is what drew him in. He loved your reactions to being touched and thought you were absolutely adorable. He felt such a rush after knowing he was the first guy to see you like this. The thought of being your first made his heart pound in his chest.
“Fuck…you’re a gift, Bella.” He moaned as his lips claimed your neck once again. He buried his face against you, lavishing you with feverish kisses, as you whined and arched beneath him. He kissed from your neck to your collarbone down to your flushed chest. His tongue lapped out to lick and tease your stiff nipples, his mouth alternating from one to the other to suck on them hungrily. His hands gripped your sides to try and hold you in place but your writhing only turned him on even more. He stopped showering your breasts with attention and kissed down your stomach, his eyes falling on your skirt. You were panting and blinking rapidly as you lifted your head to watch him.
“Theodore? What are you about to do? What’s happening?” You looked so confused, disheveled, and aroused beyond recognition. Something in Theo snapped, in his eyes, you looked like a sexual goddess blessing his bed. For you, this was probably so overwhelming. So he made a decision in that moment. He would be merciful. He slid from the bed and knelt down on the floor between your legs. Your skirt shadowed what he desperately wanted to see, his hands snaking up your legs to rest on your thighs. You shivered from his touch and realization flashed in your eyes as you watched his hands slide further under your skirt.
“Call me Theo. I’m—I’m gonna make you feel good.” He murmured as he brought his lips to hover above your thigh, his warm breaths against your skin made your legs tremble in his hands. He gently caressed your thighs to attempt to soothe you but you still seemed to shiver no matter what he did. His hands explored the expanse of your skin as he reached under your skirt to wrap his fingers around the waistband of your lace panties. He tugged them out of place and you attempted to shut your legs around his head. He chuckled as he blocked you trying to shut him out with a firm hand on the inside of your thigh. You whimpered and covered your eyes for a moment as he moved closer and slowly lifted your skirt. He finished his work by completely removing your underwear and sticking them in his pocket. You frowned at him but didn’t protest as he moved further up between your legs.
“A man…has never tasted you before?” He asked breathlessly as he spread your legs even further.
“No.” You sniffled and watched him closely as he licked his lips. He brought his face closer to your cunt and smiled when he noticed just how wet you were.
“My my. For someone who doesn’t want this, you’re fucking soaked, Bella.” He chuckled.
“Shut up!” You huffed and let yourself fall back against his bed, your pretty face beet red. He placed one kiss where your beautiful leg met your glistening sex and you quivered as a soft moan escaped your lips. He leaned in and gently kissed the lips of your pussy and you gasped loudly, covering your face with your palms. Your wetness clung to his lips as he pulled away from you and he couldn’t help but lick them, his eyes widening over how sweet you tasted.
In that moment, he didn’t hesitate, Theo latched his mouth onto your dripping cunt and started to eat you out like a man starved. You tasted like the most delectable treat to ever bless his tongue and your scent was equally as intoxicating. He groaned into you as his hands moved to grip your hips. He was sure he left bruises on your delicate skin but he didn’t care, he felt utterly lost in you. Your moans echoed throughout his room, your hands were no longer on your face but gripped the sheets instead, your sensual body was writhing against him and his hungry mouth and he was savoring every second of it.
“You taste so fucking good!” He groaned against your dripping folds, your juices running down his chin to leave wet spots on his sweatpants. He let go of your hips to reach down and free his aching cock from his clothes. One hand wrapped around his length and started to pump furiously, matching the pace of his tongue. His free hand wrapped around one of your legs to reach your throbbing clit. His thumb rubbed circles on the sensitive bud while his tongue delved deeper into your innocent hole.
“Th—Theo! It’s—it’s too much! Oh fuck, I’m close! So close!” You cried while your fingers moved to grip his hair. Your hips ground urgently against his mouth and fingers and your desperate need had him stroking his cock even faster. He increased the pace of his thumb and watched as your back arched up from his bed. He quickly sucked on your aching clit and you cried out as you came on his tongue. With a few more pumps, his orgasm followed right behind you and he came all over the bedroom floor. That had never happened before. He got off just from eating you out. Something inside him felt hungry and primal and he just couldn’t stop himself. He gave your pussy one last kiss and you shuddered as he moved away from you to let you catch your breath.
He tucked his cock back into his boxers and looked up to gauge your reaction. You were staring blankly up at the bed canopy with your hand over your chest. He slowly moved to sit beside you and wiped your slick from his mouth as you tried to gain your composure.
“I—I can’t believe—that just happened.” You murmured.
“Are you alright?” Theo asked as he helped you sit up beside him. You nodded gently but wouldn’t make eye contact with him. You slowly stood up from the bed but he noticed the slight wobble in your legs as you moved to grab your bra and shirt. You eyed his pocket as you slipped on your clothes but he shook his head at you with a scoff.
“You’re not getting them back, Bella. I’m sure you won’t miss one pair of panties.” He smirked as you glared at him and put on your robe.
“Fine. Keep them.” You sighed heavily but he loved how your cheeks grew red over the thought of him keeping your underwear. He helped you walk to his door and he held it open for you.
“Same time tomorrow. Don’t be late.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and you blushed.
“I thought that…I thought you wanted to have sex with me.” You said softly as you finally looked into his eyes.
“Maybe another time, be glad I chose to be kind tonight. If I really wanted to, I could have had you screaming my name while I pound that pretty pussy of yours.” He smirked at you while your jaw dropped in shock.
“I—I can’t believe you just said that.” You said softly while your cheeks burned a bright red.
“I’ve got you thinking about now, don’t I?” He asked with a cocky smile on his face.
“N—no! I’m just—still shocked about all of this and what happened. I just wanna go to bed. I’ll umm—I’ll see you tomorrow.” You replied meekly and pulled your robe tighter around your body as you walked through his door.
“Oh! Don’t forget,” he called out to you, “make sure you don’t run into any prefects on your way back to your dorm. Wouldn’t want anyone catching you and thinking that you were up to no good.” He chuckled wickedly as your jaw dropped over his audacity.
He shut the door on you and listened as you stormed off down the hallway. When things were quiet, he quickly moved over to his television and moved a small plant he had on the stand. Hidden beside the leaves was his camera. He hit the rewind button then grinned when he pressed play and saw the video he had recorded. Everything the two of you had done tonight was captured on film and added to his list of blackmail material. He smiled viciously to himself as he put the device away. Yes, he was definitely going to have his way with you.
Tag list: @underthenightskydreamsneverdie @slytherinravebabe @helendeath if I missed any tags, please let me know and I will happily add you.🥰❤️
My first Theo fic! I hope you like it because I have plenty more to come. It feels good to be writing again.🥹❤️
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bunnis-monsters · 2 months ago
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random question abt the bee hybrids but I am actually very curious abt this,,, since some of the queens sons (I mean, there's gotta be A LOT of them right??) wouldn't move out/mate with another queen so they decide to stay with their mom in their own hive. Is there a possibility that some of them would want breed with her?? I mean, the other bees would probably grow old over time so they'd need some younger more fertile males... Would it be possible that they'd breed with their mom?
Getting this question pretty soon after that drama is pretty funny, but fuck I’ll answer it!
In my bee hybrids universe, all of the queen’s children feel platonic love for their mom! If they decide to stay they become your attendants and take care of you, along with keeping you informed of things going on in the hive.
They also become high ranking generals, or work in the high council.
But most of your sons are traded to other hives. In return you receive new bee hybrids that you can mate with. Your sons then also spy on the other hives and report back to you. They’re sneaky, and always make sure that no one is planning to hurt their mama!
Your daughters go off to make their own hives. They’re just as affectionate with their mom, and often want to ditch their queenly duties to go and see you. All they wanna do is snuggle with their chubby mama and get kisses and hugs!
Because of this, you are required to visit your daughters once a month so they continue to properly care for their hive.
There are some hives that are old and outdated, that don’t accept new bees in and only mate with each other. They’re seen as immoral, and ostracized from the meetings of all the local hives.
Most of the bees there are sickly and don’t live for very long. Their queen is selfish, and your hive has taken in a few escapees. They usually still don’t live for very long, but the doctors and medical staff try their best to comfort them and keep them comfortable for the rest of their days.
Your hive is one of the kinder ones. You accept any newcomers and treat them as your own. After quarantine they’re free to join the hive and work and breed like any other bee hybrid would.
Also for future reference, I don’t write incest. It’s in my request info.
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darkficlord69 · 3 months ago
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Cregan Stark x Fem!Wife!Reader
Title: Northern Duties
Summary: Set during the harsh winter months in Winterfell, you find yourself caught between your growing affection for Cregan Stark and the responsibilities that bind him to his people. The snow might be cold, but the warmth of your bond with the Warden of the North is undeniable. Yet, even love has its challenges in the unforgiving North.
Warnings: 18+ implied, fluff, angst
Word Count: 3k
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***
The winds howled outside Winterfell’s thick stone walls, sending icy drafts through the narrow corridors. You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself as you made your way through the dimly lit hallways, the torchlight casting flickering shadows against the rough-hewn walls. It was always cold in the North, but this winter was different—harsher, more unforgiving.
It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to leave, no matter how many layers of furs you piled on. But the cold was the least of your worries. What concerned you more was the way Cregan Stark had been distancing himself, his attention consumed by the growing responsibilities of ruling the North.
You had come to Winterfell months ago, part of an alliance forged between your family and House Stark. The marriage had been arranged, but that didn’t mean it was without affection. Cregan was a man of honour, kind in his own way, and though he was often reserved, you had grown to love him. His quiet strength, his dedication to his people, and the way he would steal glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—it all endeared him to you. That, along with his muscled form, his big heaving chest and his even larger…forms.
But lately, the distance between you had grown, like an icy ravine that neither of you seemed able to cross.
You found him in the Great Hall, hunched over a table laden with maps and letters. His dark brown hair was tousled, a few stray strands falling into his eyes as he studied the documents before him. The fire crackled in the hearth, but its warmth seemed not to reach him.
“Cregan?” you called softly, stepping into the room.
He looked up, and for a moment, the hardness in his gaze softened. “Y/N,” he acknowledged, though his voice was tired. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
You offered a small smile, crossing the room to stand beside him. “You’ve been here all night.”
“There’s much to do,” he replied, his eyes flicking back to the map of the North spread out before him. “The winter is harsh this year, and there are reports of wildling activity near the Wall. I need to ensure that the North is prepared.”
You nodded, understanding his concerns. “I know the North is your priority, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process. You need rest, Cregan.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll rest when there’s time.”
“There’s never time,” you countered gently. “Not if you don’t make it.”
He finally looked at you, really looked at you, and you saw the exhaustion etched into his features. His grey Stark eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were dulled by sleepless nights and the weight of his responsibilities.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching out to take your hand. His touch was warm, a stark contrast to the chill in the air. “I’ve been distant.”
You squeezed his hand, the simple gesture conveying all the words you didn’t need to say. “I know you have responsibilities, Cregan. I just… I miss you.”
He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a rare moment of vulnerability. His embrace was firm, reassuring, and you let yourself melt into it, savoring the warmth and the sense of safety it brought.
“I’m here now,” he said quietly, his breath warm against your ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
***
The next few days were a blur of preparation and planning. Winterfell was abuzz with activity as Cregan and his bannermen worked tirelessly to ensure the safety of the North. The long nights you had spent alone were now filled with strategy meetings, and the brief moments you did manage to steal with Cregan were often interrupted by matters of state.
It was frustrating, watching the man you loved slip further and further away, consumed by the weight of his duties. You understood that Cregan was doing what he needed to do, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.
One evening, after yet another day spent in solitude, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapping your cloak around you, you ventured out into the courtyard, seeking the comfort of the Godswood. The heart tree stood tall and ancient in the center of the grove, its red leaves stark against the snow-covered ground. You knelt before it, hoping the Old Gods might offer you some clarity.
The wind rustled through the branches, carrying with it the faint sound of footsteps. You turned to see Cregan approaching, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” he said softly, coming to stand beside you.
“This is where I come to think,” you replied, turning your gaze back to the heart tree. “When everything else feels too overwhelming.”
Cregan was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “I’ve failed you,” he said finally, his voice heavy with regret.
You looked at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been so focused on my duties, on protecting the North, that I’ve neglected you,” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the heart tree. “You deserve better than that.”
You shook your head, reaching out to take his hand. “Cregan, you’ve been doing what you need to do. I understand that. But we’re supposed to be in this together. You don’t have to bear this burden alone.”
He turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t want to burden you with my worries.”
“I want to share them,” you insisted. “Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be? A partnership?”
Cregan’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, you saw just how deeply his responsibilities weighed on him. “I never wanted to drag you into the hardships of the North. I wanted to keep you safe.”
You stepped closer, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I chose to be with you, Cregan. That means accepting everything that comes with it, even the hardships. I want to be by your side, no matter what.”
His eyes softened, and he leaned into your touch, his hand coming up to cover yours. “I don’t deserve you.”
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Then it’s a good thing I get to decide that, isn’t it?”
Cregan let out a soft chuckle, the sound easing some of the tension between you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if you were the only thing anchoring him to the world.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’ll get through this, Cregan. Together.”
You kissed him then, and all the snow in the North could have melted underneath your blazing passion.
***
Winter continued its relentless grip on the North, but things between you and Cregan began to change. He made more of an effort to spend time with you, to include you in his plans and decisions. It wasn’t always easy, and there were still moments when the weight of his responsibilities threatened to pull him away, but you faced those challenges together.
The nights were the hardest. When the cold seemed to seep into every corner of Winterfell, it was easy to feel isolated and alone. But Cregan was always there, his presence a steady reassurance in the darkness.
One particularly cold night, you found yourselves curled up together in front of the fire in your chambers. The flames crackled and popped, casting a warm glow over the room as you nestled against Cregan’s side. He had his big arm around you, holding you close as you shared the warmth of the fire.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” you asked, your voice soft in the quiet of the room.
Cregan smiled, a rare, genuine smile that lit up his usually serious features. “Of course I do. You were so nervous, you could barely look me in the eye.”
You laughed, the memory bringing a warmth to your heart that the fire couldn’t match. “I was terrified. You were so… intimidating.”
“And now?” he asked, his tone teasing.
“Now you’re just my big cuddly bear,” you teased back, earning a mock-scowl from him.
“I am not!” he protested, but there was no real heat in his words.
You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Perhaps…”
Cregan’s expression softened, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. It was slow, tender, and full of the love that had grown between you over the months. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the space between you.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, the words like a warm breath against your cold heart.
“I love you too, Cregan,” you whispered back, your voice full of the emotion you felt.
For a moment, there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped up in each other and the warmth of the fire. It was in these moments that you felt most connected, when the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you and the love that had blossomed despite the hardships you faced.
But like all fleeting moments of peace, this one was interrupted by the harsh realities of your lives.
A sharp knock echoed through the chamber door, and before you could respond, the door creaked open. One of Cregan's most trusted bannermen, Lord Karl Umber, stepped inside, his face drawn with concern.
"My lord," he began, his eyes flickering briefly to you before returning to Cregan, "There are urgent reports from the Wall. A large band of wildlings have been sighted moving south. The Night's Watch fears they might be preparing for an attack."
Cregan stiffened beside you, the tension returning to his body in an instant. The warmth between you evaporated, replaced by the cold reality of his duties.
"I'll be there shortly," Cregan said, his voice hardening with resolve.
Karl nodded, sparing you another brief glance before retreating from the room. The door shut behind him with a heavy thud, leaving you and Cregan in silence once more.
He didn’t move immediately, his arm still draped around your shoulders, but you could sense the turmoil inside him, the pull of duty warring with the desire to stay by your side.
"You have to go," you said quietly, breaking the silence. It wasn't a question, just a simple statement of fact.
Cregan exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your hair. "I don't want to leave you."
You smiled sadly, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. "I know. But you have to."
His jaw clenched, and he pulled you tighter against him as if he could somehow keep you safe by sheer force of will. But you both knew the truth. The North needed him. The Wall needed him. His people needed him.
And as much as it hurt, you understood that.
"I'll come back to you," he promised, his voice low and fierce. "I swear it."
You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I know you will. Just… be careful."
He leaned down to kiss you again, this time with more urgency, more desperation. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t say, all the fears and hopes and unspoken promises that lingered between you.
When he finally pulled away, you saw the determination in his eyes, the strength that had first drawn you to him. This was the man you loved, the man you had chosen to stand beside, no matter how difficult the road ahead might be.
"I'll be waiting," you whispered as he stood, already feeling the cold settle in as he moved away.
Cregan paused at the door, his hand resting on the frame as he looked back at you. There was a weight in his gaze, a depth of emotion that he rarely let show.
Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through the room.
You sat there for a long time, staring at the door, the warmth of the fire slowly fading as the reality of his departure settled in. The silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room a stark contrast to the moments of warmth you had just shared.
It was always like this, the fleeting moments of happiness overshadowed by the looming specter of duty. But that was the life you had chosen when you married Cregan Stark, Warden of the North. You knew the challenges that came with it, the sacrifices that had to be made.
And you would face them, because you loved him. Even if it meant spending more nights alone, waiting for him to return to you.
***
Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no word from Cregan. The cold seemed to grow harsher with each passing day, the snow piling up against the walls of Winterfell as the winter deepened.
You threw yourself into the tasks that needed to be done, helping where you could, overseeing the stores of food and supplies, and ensuring that the people of Winterfell were cared for. It was the only way to keep the worry at bay, to keep yourself from imagining the worst.
But at night, when the castle was quiet and the cold crept in through the cracks in the stone, you couldn’t help but think of him. You wondered where he was, if he was safe, if he was thinking of you. The loneliness gnawed at you, a constant ache that refused to fade.
One particularly brutal night, when the wind howled like a wounded animal and the snow fell in thick, suffocating waves, you found yourself in the Godswood once more. The heart tree stood silent and ancient before you, its red leaves stark against the white of the snow. You knelt before it, your breath visible in the frigid air as you silently prayed for Cregan’s safe return.
The Old Gods didn’t answer, but the peace of the Godswood offered some small comfort. You stayed there for a long time, until the cold seeped into your bones and forced you back inside.
When you finally returned to your chambers, you found that sleep wouldn’t come. The bed was too empty, too cold without Cregan beside you. So, you sat by the fire, staring into the flames as they danced and flickered, your mind drifting to memories of him.
It was in the early hours of the morning, when the fire had burned down to embers, that you heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor. At first, you thought it was just another servant, but there was something about the tread that caught your attention. Something familiar.
Your heart leapt in your chest as you hurried to the door, flinging it open just in time to see Cregan striding toward you, snow clinging to his cloak and boots. He looked exhausted, his face gaunt from the cold and the weight of his responsibilities, but he was alive.
"Cregan," you breathed, relief washing over you in a wave so powerful it nearly brought you to your knees.
He didn't say a word as he reached you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, of leather and smoke and the biting cold of the North.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was nothing to say that could truly capture the depth of your relief, the joy and fear and love that warred within you.
Finally, Cregan pulled back just enough to look down at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "I'm home," he said simply, his voice rough with emotion.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you nodded, unable to find the words. You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with the sheer joy of having him back, of knowing that he was safe.
Without another word, he kissed you, a fierce, possessive kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t say. It was a kiss that promised he would never leave you again, even if you both knew that wasn’t a promise he could truly keep.
When you finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling in the cold air between you.
"I was so worried," you whispered, your voice trembling.
"I know," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you worry."
"You can’t help that," you replied, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. "Just… don’t leave me for so long again."
"I won’t," he vowed, his voice full of the promise he couldn’t make. But you believed him, because you had to. Because that was the only way to keep going.
You spent the rest of the night curled up together in front of the fire, talking quietly as the flames warmed the room. Cregan told you of the battles he had fought, the wildlings they had faced, and the toll it had taken on him. And you listened, offering what comfort you could, even as your heart ached for the burdens he had to bear.
But he was home now, and that was all that mattered.
As the first light of dawn crept through the window, you finally allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Cregan was there beside you. The North was harsh, and the winter was long, but with Cregan by your side, you knew you could face whatever came your way.
Together.
---
Thank you all for reading! Any feedback is greatly appreciated 💝🐺 Guys, please visit the other content I make! XOXO ❤️‍🔥
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shomatoriashi · 1 month ago
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10/09/24; 04:15pm
{ drabbles / headcanons }
[ how they help you relax and feel better after a stressful day ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
warnings: mentions of strained parental relationship with zayne’s story; mentions death of a relative in rafayel’s story.
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exhaustion was felt seeping into your very bones, turning the speed of your trek home to an almost crawling pace.
work had been hectic for you, to say the least. when you clocked in at 9am, you were expecting a relatively normal day. your routine of checking emails while typing out summary reports would remain unchanged-
yet what you weren’t expecting was to walk into total chaos. the moment you stepped into the office, your supervisor tells you that a few of your coworkers were out sick, and you (being the kind and generous person that you were) agreed to take on some of their load.
you thought you had a steady plan in place. you would spend an hour or two helping your sick coworkers catch up before doing your own duties for the day. for the first few hours, you felt confident that you were on track and were managing your time well. your pace was steady, and you didn’t feel like you were falling behind.
however, this didn’t last long.
with your desire to get as many things done within the allotted time, you slowly began to realize that you may have bitten off more than you could chew. while you worked, you missed vital steps and was unable to complete the other reports on time, making you redo them a few times before it all came crashing down on you.
however, you were grateful when your other coworker jumps in to help you, successfully completing the spreadsheet as you worked on the next assignment. despite the pounding headache you felt, you forced yourself to power through it, even skipping lunch so that you could try to catch up with the rest of your work.
when you clock out around 8pm, your feet were practically dragging across the sidewalk. exhaustion makes your eyelids feel heavy, and you were so caught up with your drowsiness that you didn’t even notice how a familiar crow with glowing, red eyes was trailing your every move.
with each step you take, it felt like you were on the brink of collapsing, and you would have landed face first against the sidewalk had it not been for the man who appears within seconds in front of you.
instead of falling face first against the hard concrete, you found yourself being gently cradled against someone’s chest, his warmth coupled along with the familiar scent of his cologne making you smile. steadying yourself in his embrace, you look up to meet with your boyfriend’s concerned gaze.
“what took you so long? you’re usually home by 6pm at the latest.” sylus frames at your face, frowning at the exhaustion that was evident in your expression. tears were felt welling up in your eyes, and that was all the confirmation he needed before taking you into his arms.
not allowing you to walk the rest of the way back home, he carries you, keeping your body pressed against his. just the feeling of his arms wrapped around you while holding you so tightly was enough to take the edge off of your stress, with you leaning into him all while smiling.
“so tell me… do i need to set up a bomb in your company’s building or…?”
sylus’s question succeeds in making you giggle, with you gently pinching at his cheek, earning a wide smirk from him. “dont be ridiculous, sy! life happens, and admittedly, today was stressful…”
you trail off, noticing the way sylus stops walking, giving you his undivided attention when you gently frame at his face. “but having you here, and feeling you holding me so tightly against you makes me feel so much better.”
you watch as the onychinus leader shakes his head, letting out a sigh of your name before leaning down to press a sweet kiss against your lips, feeling all of your stress melt away with that single touch alone.
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you had gotten into another fight with your parents, which left a bitter taste in your mouth.
as you walked home from work, your mother decided to give you a call to check in on you. you try to remain cordial with her, updating your life while giving her only the bare minimum when it came to specific details.
“i see, and how is your boyfriend doing? ah, im sure he must be taking in 6 figures a year.”
you grit your teeth in response to your mother’s passive aggressive words. “yes, he is a wonderful cardiac surgeon because it is a field that he is passionate about.”
“i understand, but i can’t help but worry about you.” your mother’s disappointment was all too obvious to you, and you could just picture the way she keeps her lips pursed while pacing around her living room. “you would have stood on the same level as dr. zayne had you pursued a more healthcare inclined career.”
her statement makes you stop walking, feeling your teeth gritting with such a force that you were certain it would lead to a headache soon. “and i don’t know how many times i have to keep telling you this, but working in healthcare is not something that will make me happy. i would rather work a normal job that suits my own dreams and career paths rather than follow what you want me to do.”
not wanting to hear any more lecturing from her, you quickly hang up your phone. a part of you wanted to block her number for good, yet the unconditional love you still felt for her made you reconsider. instead, you decide to simply shut off your phone, wishing to at least have some moments of peace without her interruption.
filled with a desperation to return to the home you shared with zayne, your strides become faster as you thought about returning to the comfort of your own bed. with the memory of your comforter along with your favorite plushies zayne had won for you during your first attempt at playing the claw machines, you quicken your pace in response.
feeling relief at arriving back home relatively unscathed, you insert your key and harshly turn the lock, opening the door before slamming it shut. you shrug off your coat and set it across one of the sofas, not stopping until you haphazardly take off your shoes, allowing your bare feet to pad across the wooden floors.
taking the steps two at a time, you felt your mood become slightly better at the sight of your comfortable bed. wanting nothing more than to be surrounded by your comfort items, you go beneath the blankets all while clinging to one of your favorite plushies.
with you finally alone and in the comfort of your bed, you allow the tears to fall, feeling the way your frustrations kept on growing when it came to your mother and her clear disdain for your career choices. both of your parents had high hopes of you choosing a career that earned a decent pay, like becoming a doctor or engineer-
yet none of those career paths were of interest to you. instead, you spent your university learning about the career that did interest you, regardless of how well the job paid. thinking back to all of the past conversations you had with your parents about the same damn thing over and over again was enough to put a significant damper on your mood, making you further recede back into your cocoon of blankets.
time was lost to you, and you remain completely unaware of how much time had passed. only when you felt an added weight on the bed and the way a pair of powerful arms wrapped around you did you wake up with a start.
zayne’s soft chuckle heard close to your ear makes you visibly relax, smiling slightly when he presses a kiss against your temple. “hello, honey. i knew something was amiss when i couldn’t reach you…did you have a rough day?”
feeling your throat close up at the memory of your mother’s phone call, you manage to give zayne a nod, letting out a whimper when he tightens his arms around you. he says your name in a gentle tone before asking, “did your parents call again?”
cue you giving him another nod in response.
zayne lets out a hum just then, giving you some space so that you could turn around and fully face him. your lover takes note of your swollen eyelids and how your eyes were a bit bloodshot. with unshed tears making your gaze appear shinier than usual, zayne leans forward to press a lingering kiss against your forehead.
“you don’t have to listen to their demands… as long as you’re doing what makes you happy, then that’s all that matters.”
you give zayne a nod before hiding your face within his chest, freely crying as you cling to him. feeling so overwhelmed with stress, you couldn’t properly convey how you felt with words-
yet zayne knew you enough, silently continuing to comfort you. from the way he threads his fingers through your hair while giving you lingering kisses- each action was proof of the unconditional love he felt for you-
and it was more than enough to help with calming you down, allowing your stress to melt away before morphing into a gentle happiness.
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it was time you realized that those so called friends you had may not be your true friends at all, especially when they didn’t seem to put as much effort to helping you through the stresses that came with your life like you did with them.
and this whole issue was highlighted through your relationship with a friend you met in college named allison. you grew closer after being assigned as her roommate, and admittedly, you had fun with her, sharing similar interests as well.
however, there were moments where you felt like you were the only person attempting to maintain a close relationship with her. from always inviting her first to hang out with you, to keeping your mouth shut when she invited other people to social gatherings (seeming to purposely exclude you)-
you felt as though there was something awry when it came to this so called ‘friendship.’
and to add even more salt to your wounds, you recall how a couple of weeks ago, allison had called you in tears, venting about how her ex had cheated on her with some unknown girl. you spent hours trying to comfort her, and when she was pretty much inconsolable even after your attempts of convincing her otherwise (telling her at least a million variations of “your ex is an ass and you deserve better!”) you then offered to take her out to get her mind off of the messy breakup (an offer allison was all too willing to take).
so you spent the evening heading over to allison’s apartment, helping her with putting on her makeup before driving her to various clubs and bars so she could let loose and enjoy the night.
through your late night adventures, allison did end up meeting a cute guy named james during one of your escapades, and because they seemed so into each other, you allowed allison to go home with him, being the supportive friend that hyped her up.
fast forward to a few months later, and allison ends up dating james. of course, you were immensely happy for her-
but what you weren’t expecting was for her to return to her old ways, flaking on you so suddenly while turning down each plan you made. it felt like the moment she got into a new relationship, you were placed at the very back of her mind-
that is, until her boyfriend suddenly breaks up with her, leaving her utterly alone before running back to you and asking if you were free to “hang out” with her.
and the thought of it all was enough to piss you off.
your blood was felt boiling upon realizing just how much of a shitty friend allison has always been to you, that you were simply used as a distraction when her life got too difficult to handle. filled with anger for allison and the way she treated you was what ultimately lead you to blocking her number along with her social medias as well.
even though you were the one who chose to block her, you were still filled with a slight sense of sadness. despite how she was a less than ideal friend to you, it still hurt you quite a bit when you had to set your boundaries and cut her off from your life. while you were in the thick of deleting each selfie you had taken together with allison, you were dimly aware of of how your boyfriend had just come home from work.
he greets you by saying your name, and you acknowledge his greeting with a nonchalant hum. seeing how your eyes were glued to your phone makes your boyfriend stop, with him walking toward your figure settled on the couch.
you nearly dropped your phone when xavier manages to pick you up, settling himself on the couch while placing you on his lap. he rests his chin against your shoulder, blue eyes shining with curiosity when he sees you deleting your selfies with allison.
“what are you doing?” he asks you, clearly wishing to understand the situation. xavier could tell from your expression that you were sad and stressed, and he wanted to do all that he could to help you through this.
“i’m just now realizing how much of a shitty friend allison was to me. she only comes to me when her boyfriends inevitably break up with her, using me as a means to help her feel better and cope… wasting my time. and… fuck, whenever i ask if she’s able to call me so that i can vent to her about my day, or about my job, she never replies back to my messages or calls in to check on me.”
xavier remains silent, allowing you to vent about your frustrations when it came to the way she treated you. after telling him some other instances where allison bailed on you or left you on read, you began to calm down and feel considerably better.
looking back, you meet xavier’s gaze and smile at him, hands already reaching behind his head to pull him closer to you. pressing a kiss against his lips, you bask in the sensation of it all, feeling xavier’s love for you within that kiss alone.
“thank you, for letting me vent about this whole ordeal with you, xavier.”
“you don’t need to thank me, it’s just what i need to do as your boyfriend. and i’m proud of you for setting up your boundaries.” xavier gives you a tiny smile before taking a hold of your phone, now helping you with deleting the rest of allison’s selfies from your phone as you cuddled closer to him, simply basking in his warmth and presence, allowing him to melt away the stress that came from your failed friendship.
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you received some heartbreaking news about your grandmother, finding out that she was close to her final days. the dementia had taken its toll on her, which made things increasingly difficult for you and your family.
her passing was painful, yet peaceful at the same time. during the last few hours of her life, she seemed to regain her memories, speaking with a perfect clarity while reminiscing on some of her favorite memories. while sitting upright in her hospital bed, she sweetly asked if she could eat some of her favorite foods, which of course, you and your family provided for her.
you spent every waking moment with her, allowing her to hold on tightly to your hand while basking in her last words and promises of loving you forever.
and when she fell asleep that night-
she never woke up.
the rest of the day goes by in a flurry of motions, with you feeling like a zombie. you were in a daze, unable to comprehend that the woman you held so close to your heart was truly gone. you were dimly aware of your mom and how she told you to go back home through her tears, promising you that both she and your father would take care of the aftermath.
“go on and head home… allow your heart and mind to rest.” your mother tells you, and you nod at her, allowing her to give you one last hug.
with your eyes still stinging and swollen from how much you had been crying, you finally come out of the hospital room, recognizing the tall figure that stands before you.
empathy was seen in rafayel’s loving gaze when he immediately takes you into his arms. knowing that your grief was immense, you fall into his embrace and continue to cry. memories of your childhood summers spent at your grandmother’s house fills you, the nostalgia and feelings of such happiness quickly morphing into sadness as you cling to the front of rafayel’s shirt.
not caring about the looks other people were giving him, rafayel’s sole goal was to help you feel better; to comfort you through the pains of losing a loved one when he gently lifts you up and carries you bridal style out of the hospital. apologies were close to forming at the tip of your tongue, yet rafayel simply silences your attempts.
“there’s no need to feel sorry, my love. your feelings- the intensity of your grief, they’re all valid. you don’t need any explanation, and i’ll be with you every step of the way.”
filled with love for him, your tears cascade down your cheeks at an even faster pace, with you clinging to rafayel. and as he carefully walked out of the hospital with you in his arms, you felt so lucky- so blessed to have such a beautiful love by your side.
for what rafayel offered you was nothing short of unconditional.
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end notes: today was an exhausting day for me, and i wanted to write something to comfort me. each scenario, i have faced before sometime in the past, but managed to overcome them with the unconditional love from family and friends. i wanted to share my experiences in the form of an insert, just in case you readers may need some comfort, too.
currently unedited, but this was purely written and fueled by my emotions alone.
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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lxvvie · 9 months ago
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What other degenerate things does fuck nasty!simon do?👀
Keeps you on his lap more often than not because he wants you to feel how hard you make him; he likes seeing you flustered and subtly but not so subtly grinding on him.
Will also thumb your nipples ever so gently, too, especially when you're cockwarming him because he needs to feel those walls tighten around him. If you're not cockwarming him, Simon does it to make you moan and grind against him harder.
He's since been banned but he used to help you get dressed and/or undressed which usually culminated in Simon's head between your legs or him fingering the fuck out of you. Because you've been late to work and/or anything else you've got planned multiple times, he's forbidden from touching you. You didn't say he couldn't watch you, though. 😏
When he's away and you text him you miss him, he'll reply "Miss this, too?" and it's a dick pic.
Also leaving you a voice message but it's really the slick sounds of him stroking himself. You've probably played it out loud by accident and the next time you talk to him all flustered and shit, Simon will be amused.
This is mostly at home seeing as he's nice enough not to do it in public but when you're bent over doing... whatever the hell you're doing, expect a long, drawn-out lick of his tongue, or Simon running his middle finger through your slit and/or cleft. You turn to face him and he'll take a whiff or taste you on his finger. Will stare you down the entire time, too. Nasty bastard.
Kissing you mid-rant, especially if you're giving him lip over trivial shit that HE'S done. Tends to squeeze your ass while doing so.
Piggybacking off that, fucking you, and while you're on your "fuck you, Simon," shit, he's on some "make it count, sweetheart," bullshit which leads to fuck nastiness that has y'all both tired the next day. 'Cause fuck you, Simon, you smug bastard.
Some poor bastard trying to flirt and get your number and Simon just coming up behind you, making you gasp because Little Lt. Riley is up and reporting for duty—"Little?"—and he's just smugly staring the bloke down because Simon dares him. He fuckin' dares him. Knobhead won't ever make you feel as good as he does, luv. ❤️
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motherismotheringggg · 7 days ago
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rhythm & heat
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summary: you and nicholas are co-stars in a fun and innocent PR relationship, the chemistry was already there so it just feels natural but something shifts when you, him and cast go out.
type: fem! reader x nicholas (i tried add some of Nicholas’ POV per my friend’s suggestion, it’ll be in red to stand out)
tags/warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap your willy yall) and creampie
author’s note: i’m having sooooo much fun writing again so thanks to everyone who’s been encouraging me to do it. i used to write in college and now that im 27 (almost 28 in january) it’s good to get back into it. i wanted to do something while im working on slow burn pt. 3 so i hope yall like it!!!!
🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩
The bass pulsed through the club, sending ripples of heat and sound through the packed dance floor. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an electric glow over the scene as bodies moved in sync with the music. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made everyone buzz with energy, like something wild could happen at any moment.
You and your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, were out celebrating the wrap of the second season—a well-deserved break after months of filming. The first season had been a hit, with fans and critics alike praising your performances and the chemistry you brought to your characters. And of course, that chemistry hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rumors about the two of you had been swirling since the first season, with fans speculating about what might be going on off-camera.
And they weren’t completely off. Your and Nicholas’s teams had decided that hinting at a romance would be the perfect, harmless way to build buzz for the next season. You weren’t usually one for gimmicks, but you both thought it’d be fun, and honestly, with the chemistry you two shared on screen, the idea didn’t feel far-fetched. Playing at “dating” off-screen just felt natural.
There were moments on set where the boundary between acting and reality seemed to blur. In one particularly intense scene, you and Nicholas’s character finished having sex and his hands roamed in a way that made sense for the character but caught you off guard, you leaned in to commit to the scene but you remember leaving the set that day with your heart fluttering.
Off set, at interviews and press events, the playful banter you shared made the rumors almost impossible to deny. During one red carpet appearance, when a reporter asked what Nicholas liked best about working with you, he leaned close and, in a low voice, said, “She makes me forget we’re acting.” The reporters loved it, and you could feel your cheeks warm under the spotlight.
Even your off-duty moments seemed to fuel the rumors. You remembered the night you and Nicholas went to see Sabrina Carpenter in concert and to avoid the crowds, you were escorted through hidden elevators in the arena. One of the elevators was especially small, so when you were pushed inside with security guards and crew, space was tight. Somehow, you ended up in the back corner, pressed chest to chest with Nicholas, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.
When you joked about it later, he laughed, claiming he was just “making room” for everyone. But you couldn’t ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist during the two-minute ride—or how, when you shifted to get more comfortable, you felt his hardness through his jeans.
There were countless other moments and with another press run coming up, it just felt like you were still both “in character” all the time but for tonight, you just wanted to dance, let loose, and get ready for another thrilling media cycle. You, Nicholas and a few costars decided to go out to a boiler room club in the city. None of you had planned on playing into the rumors tonight, but as the crowd grew, Nicholas slipped into “boyfriend” mode without a second thought. His hand found your waist, guiding you through the crowd; he held your hand, lingered close, and let his touches drift to intimate places whenever you danced or laughed together.
The night felt electric. Drinks flowed freely, adding a warm edge to the pulsing bass that reverberated through the walls and floor. Your group had claimed a private section overlooking the dance floor, with a perfect view of the swirling neon lights below. Fans would catch glimpses of you and the cast, looking up with wide smiles, waving, and cheering to show their love. Some even made heart shapes with their hands or mouthed “We love you” as they danced. Every now and then, Nicholas would slide his arm around your waist, pulling you close for a quick fan photo or to lean in as he spoke over the music, his breath grazing your ear.
Nicholas could hardly keep his eyes off you. Even in the chaos of the club, you stood out—like a spark in the dark, drawing him in. The energy around you, the way you moved, the way you threw back your head to laugh at something your friend said… it made his chest feel tight. He’d been watching you for a while now, unable to shake the feeling that tonight was different.
At first, it was all casual, harmless fun. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, you couldn’t help but notice a shift. Nicholas’s touches lingered a little longer, his fingers resting at your waist even when the picture was done or the conversation had shifted. The way he looked at you changed too—his gaze softened, his words slower, and his attention focused entirely on you, despite the crowd around you both.
When the group began to dance, he stayed close, his hand brushing yours, fingers grazing along your arm, almost as if testing the waters. As the music thumped, he moved nearer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, his hand slipping down to rest at your hip. Every touch, every shared laugh, felt charged, and you could feel the tension building in each small gesture. You’d been close to him before, but this was different—the alcohol, the music, the night itself seemed to bring out something more raw.
His thoughts became a blur of want, fueled by the subtle way your lips parted as you looked up at him. The pull was irresistible, drawing him closer as he traced his fingers along the small of your back, letting his thumb graze your hip in a possessive but tender gesture. He was intoxicated, not just by the alcohol but by you, by the way you felt so effortlessly right in his arms.
As you danced, his heartbeat quickened, his breaths shallow and erratic. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him—how just being close to you made it feel impossible to think straight. Every touch, every whisper, was like fuel to a fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d met you. He couldn't ignore it any longer, the way you’d somehow slipped beneath his skin. He wanted all of you—the quick wit, the mischievous grin, the soft vulnerability he saw in your eyes in quieter moments on set. And tonight, he wanted you in a way that left no room for pretense or careful boundaries.
You two were dancing face to face, the music vibrating through your chest as you moved in sync. Nicholas leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of heat through your body. His voice was low and smooth, a touch playful, as he whispered, “How’s my girl feeling tonight?”
His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer, pressing your bodies together as if there was any space left between you two. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest against yours, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. The heat of his touch lingered where his fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, sending a wave of electricity through your skin.
You were attracted to Nicholas, no doubt about it. Up close, he was all intense, striking features that seemed made for this low, pulsing light. His deep-set brown eyes held a mischievous spark, the kind that always kept you guessing and a little on edge, even when the cameras weren’t rolling. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and as he looked down at you, the soft stubble along it caught the neon glow, adding an edge to his otherwise boyish charm.
As you looked up, his tousled dark hair fell a bit across his forehead, framing his face in a way that softened his piercing gaze. His lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk as he looked at you, as though he knew exactly what kind of effect he had. You felt his fingers shift at your waist, his thumb tracing small, almost hypnotic circles against your hip, bringing a flush to your skin.
Despite the undeniable attraction, you hesitated to lean into whatever Nicholas was offering. Playing “relationship” was fun, but you knew getting involved with a co-star was a risky move. You flashed him a playful smirk, your voice teasing as you responded, “Your co-star is doing fine.” You took a small step back, creating just enough space to break the intensity between you two. But it wasn’t enough to stop the flirtation—you secretly hoped he’d pull you right back in.
He wasn’t having any of it. “Stop playing with me,” Nicholas groaned, his voice taking on that low, almost dangerous tone you couldn’t ignore. He leaned back down, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You know I want you.”
His words sent a thrill coursing through you, the heat of his breath making your pulse race. Despite the hesitation, you could feel your body betraying you, urging you to close the space between you two again. His head lingered by your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, just barely a touch, sending a spark through you. Before you could pull back, his lips grazed the sensitive spot near your neck, planting soft, lingering “innocent” kisses.
The kisses were feather-light, almost teasing, yet each one felt like a jolt of electricity. They were gentle but purposeful, just enough to make your knees weaken and your womanhood tremble. His closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours, was intoxicating, and with every soft kiss, you found yourself craving more.
With a few sharp breaths and low moans, he knew he had you. The sound of his name on your lips, barely above a whisper, was all the confirmation he needed. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your neck, giving him full access to your skin. His hands, on your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against yours.
He didn’t hold back. His lips moved with confidence now, kissing the delicate curve of your neck with more urgency. Each kiss was deeper and more insistent, the pressure of his mouth leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. His tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver of desire straight through your body.
You could feel him smiling against your skin, sensing the way your body responded to his touch—how you instinctively leaned into him, drawn to the heat between you. His hands, bold and sure, roamed lower, the pads of his fingers grazing the curve of your back, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. The sensation was soft at first but quickly turned more intense, his touch growing bolder, more confident with each passing second. Every moment between you two felt like a slow burn, the anticipation building as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
Then, when he shifted, you felt it—his hardness brushing against your thigh. The contact sent a wave of heat straight through you, an electric shock that heightened every nerve in your body. It was enough to make your pulse race, enough to make you realize how much you wanted him in that moment.
Without thinking, you reached down, your fingers gently grazing over the fabric of his pants, feeling the outline of him. The pressure of his body against yours, the growing heat between you two, made you want more—made you want to make him feel just as desperate for you as you felt for him.
You could feel the quickening of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against yours. A low groan rumbled from his throat as you continued to trace his length, every brush of your fingers sending a thrill through both of you. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you either.
Without another moment passing, Nicholas grabbed your hand, his fingers tight around yours, pulling you through the crowded space. He moved with purpose, guiding you down the secret hallway the cast used to get into the club, away from the prying eyes and flashing lights. Each step seemed to quicken the pulse between you, the anticipation building with every turn. You felt his grip firm on your hand, but also the heat radiating off him, as though he couldn't wait any longer.
With just a few more steps, you found yourselves in the private dead-end hallway. It was dim, secluded—perfectly private. Before you could process what was happening, Nicholas had you pressed up against the cold wall, his body pinning you in place. The urgency in his movements left no room for hesitation as he slammed his lips onto yours, the kiss fierce, demanding. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, lips moving against each other as if he couldn’t get enough.
His hands weren’t idle either. One moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you exactly where he wanted you, while the other traveled lower, finding its way to the waistband of your panties. His touch was deliberate and heated, and in an instant, his hand slipped beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above them, the contact sending a shock of heat straight through you.
You gasped into his mouth, the electricity of his touch overwhelming, making every part of you ache for more. His fingers continued to tease, moving with slow, deliberate pressure, testing the limits of your restraint. He continued to rub and massage your sweet spot while you moaned and squirmed against his kiss. He pulled away just enough to watch you under his power.
From his vantage, you were a vision—utterly captivating in every response. He loved the way your eyes fluttered closed, only to open halfway, trying to find his gaze but faltering under the intense pleasure he was giving you. The way your teeth sank into your lip, trying to hold back the sounds you couldn’t suppress, only spurred him on. Each flick of his fingers brought a fresh wave of moans and whines, soft and breathy, laced with his name in barely-contained pleas. Hearing you beg him to take things further, to lose himself with you completely, made him feel invincible. He knew he had you right where he wanted, and he was savoring every moment.
You planted one last, deep kiss on his lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his breath catching slightly as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and hunger. Your hands moved with urgency, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, your fingers grazing over the heat radiating from his body. As you freed him, he let out a soft groan, his gaze fixed on you, filled with both awe and impatience.
His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, tangling in it gently as you looked up at him, the connection between you electric and unspoken. The way he was watching you—intense, with a mix of excitement and restraint—made your pulse race. His pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven, and you could see the anticipation building in his expression as he waited, every part of him attuned to your next move.
As you leaned closer, he tightened his grip, his fingers brushing against your scalp, guiding you but letting you set the pace. You started slow, savoring every moment, every reaction, feeling his muscles tense and hearing his breaths turn to low, needy moans. His chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to keep control, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to your touch, murmuring your name in a rough, breathy tone that only made you want him more.
Every time you paused to swirl your tongue around his tip, Nicholas' whole body tensed, his breathing turning shallow as he let out a low, drawn-out hiss. The sound of your name on his lips, mixed with whispered curses, filled the air. He couldn’t help himself, alternating between breathless moans and deep, husky praises. “God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, admiring intensity. “You look so beautiful taking me like this.”
With each word, his grip in your hair tightened just enough to keep you where he wanted. His hands were steady, yet you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as his need for you grew. Finally, he held your head in both hands, his gaze locked on yours, guiding you with a slow, deliberate motion. He pushed himself deeper, filling your mouth as his hips rocked in rhythm, pressing him to the back of your throat. The sounds escaping him were desperate yet controlled, each ragged breath carrying his satisfaction.
“Look at me, baby,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy, gruff murmur, thick with desire. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” His gaze was commanding yet filled with an undeniable admiration, and as you met his eyes, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, fully captivated by the sight of you. The connection between you was intense, wordlessly conveying his appreciation for everything you were giving him, every shiver and sigh pulling him closer to the edge.
Your throat tightened slightly as you tried to take all of him, a small gag escaping despite your best efforts. Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, satisfied sound, and his hand moved to gently tap your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a subtle affection that made your heart race. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride evident in his tone.
His hands slid down to your shoulders, pulling you up to meet him, and the moment your lips touched, he captured you in a deep, consuming kiss. It was passionate, full of hunger and appreciation, and he groaned against your mouth, relishing in the taste of you. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a soft, smoldering intensity. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender. “You looked so perfect, taking me in… just like I always knew you could.”
Each word sent a wave of warmth through you, and his hands stayed on your hips, grounding you, his gaze never straying from yours. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, still swollen from your efforts, his gaze filled with both desire and genuine admiration as he traced your features, savoring every moment and every breath shared between you.
Nicholas could feel the anticipation radiating off you, your body responding to his every touch and move. He knew just how much you wanted him, and he wanted to give you everything you craved. With deliberate slowness, he turned you around, pressing you gently forward. His hands slid up your thighs as he lifted the hem of your dress, savoring the soft, heated skin beneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down your panties, his lips still trailing along your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made your breath quicken. He groaned into your ear, his voice low and thick with desire, reveling in the way your back arched, your body silently pleading for more.
“I wanna make you feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed over your hips as he positioned himself behind you, letting his tip trace over your folds, teasing you until you were trembling in his grasp. The first sensation of him entering you made your breath catch, a shudder running through both of you as he filled you, slow and deep. You instinctively moved in sync, bodies finding a perfect rhythm, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you.
Nicholas buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in rough, heated gasps as he lost himself in the moment, savoring every pulse and movement of your body against his. You reached back, threading your fingers into his hair, giving it a gentle tug, and he let out a breathless whimper—a sound that only made you ache for him more. His need to be in control fueled you, but there was something thrilling in the way he let you pull him back, every now and then, giving you the slightest taste of control.
You guided one of his hands from your hip, pressing it down between your legs. He understood immediately, his fingers finding and massaging that sensitive spot, adding another layer of intensity to your connection. He quickly obliged, his touch skilled and deliberate, and you felt yourself unraveling under the dual sensations, every nerve heightened, every thought fading into pure, unfiltered bliss.
Nicholas’s pace quickened, and with every movement, he brought an intensity that made you lose yourself further with each second. His hands roamed your body, seeking out every place that could make you unravel under his touch. One moment he’d slap your ass, and in the next, his fingers wrapped around your neck, adding a delicious pressure that only heightened the sensations. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against your heat, before gently tilting your head, exposing more of your neck so he could plant hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. The air around you both grew hotter, more electric, and you could feel that familiar pressure building, bringing you both to the brink.
He leaned into your ear, his voice thick with need, a hint of desperation woven into it. “I want to cum for you, baby,” he breathed. “Tell me how bad you want it.”
Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, overcome by the sensations he was giving you. “Let’s do it together. I’m so close,” you pleaded, feeling yourself hovering right at the edge. His thrusts stayed steady but powerful, his head buried against your neck, breaths hitching and moans deepening. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your body to match his rhythm perfectly, every stroke hitting deeper, more intense.
Nicholas, always the performer, could feel just how close you were, but he wanted to hear it. His voice was a low, teasing growl. “Tell me how much you want me, baby,” he commanded. “Tell me how good this feels… tell me who you belong to.” With each demand, his movements became more forceful, every stroke making you lose control a bit more.
He was close too, a raw intensity filling each thrust, and just before the finish, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure he felt every shudder of your response.
“Are you ready, baby?” he gasped, his tone shaky as he was right on the edge. You tried to say his name, but the feeling was so intense, it came out as a breathless, pleading sound. You nodded, barely able to form words as your body responded, every nerve lit up as you both finally reached your climax.
As he spilled into you, the sensation sent waves of warmth through your entire body, making you moan out, your voice just barely above a whisper but full of satisfaction. Your body shuddered, every nerve still singing from the overwhelming release.
Even as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a few more slow, teasing thrusts, drawing out every last tremor until you were completely undone. Each lingering movement kept you in the moment, his body still pressed firmly against yours, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him.
A satisfied smirk played across his lips as he felt you react, your legs shaking as his hands traveled slowly up your sides, grounding you through the aftershocks. He murmured in your ear, his voice low and full of pride, "You’re so fucking hot when you cum...just like I always imagined" His fingers traced gentle circles along your waist, savoring how soft you felt under his touch.
With a final, breathless sigh, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead to his as he caught his breath, his thumb grazing softly over your cheek.You both stayed like that, basking in the warmth between you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, leaving soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his way of savoring every last moment.
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celestemona · 1 month ago
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BENEATH THE SHROUDED SKIES
pairing: kinich x fem! reader
cw: angst. main character's death. slight spoiler for 5.1' archon quest, though there's not too much to see. canon divergence. kinich may look a bit ooc here but whatever. not proof-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
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The sky above Natlan had always been a warm crimson at twilight, reflecting the flame in its people’s hearts. But now, as the Abyss cast its miasma over the land, that sky was gone, swallowed by an endless stretch of black clouds and despairing. It felt wrong—unbearably so—to Kinich, but wars had a way of twisting everything, even the heavens.
Your face was the last bright thing he had seen before the darkness came. He remembered his last moments together with you vividly: standing atop a cliff overlooking the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, where your paths would diverge. His tribe had sent him east to deliver messages and support the borders, while you had been tasked with leading a vanguard of your own people to the north. Different tribes, different duties—such was the way of Natlan’s warriors.
Your goodbye had been silent at first, both too proud, too weighed down by your duties to say what you felt. But then, with a sudden urgency, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him close. Your lips met in a desperate kiss, a promise wrapped in fire and sorrow.
“See you soon,” you whispered against his lips, though the uncertainty in your voice told him that you both knew the truth. War held no promises. Still, Kinich had nodded, his jaw tight, holding back the dread that gnawed at his heart. He had watched you walk away, your form swallowed by the horizon, not knowing it would be the last time.
Hours or even days passed, he wouldn’t know to tell. The war raged on. Reports of the dead, the missing, and the injured were relentless. Kinich fought alongside his people, cutting down the Abyss’s beasts with cold precision, each strike sharp with the promise he had made to you—to survive, to see you again. But as the time turned into a blur of battles, one thing became painfully clear: there was no word of you. No whispers of your whereabouts, no updates from your tribe. The silence cut deeper than any blade.
And then, after what felt like an eternity of fighting, Kinich returned to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, reuniting with the others heroes.
The once-proud landmark of Natlan’s people was now surrounded by the grim faces of survivors. Xilonen stood off to the side, tending to her wounded comrades, her eyes hollow from too many losses. Mualani, usually so full of light, was eerily quiet, her usual smile replaced by a look of weary sorrow. Even Iansan, with her proud spirit, sat slumped on the edge of the arena, barely talking.
Kinich’s heart ached with unspoken fears as he scanned the horizon, hoping—begging—to see your familiar figure emerge through the smoke. But you didn’t come.
Mualani approached him, her face ashen, her hand trembling as she placed it on his shoulder. “We’re waiting for the others to arrive,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But Kinich, there’s something…”
Her words were cut off by a sudden stir in the crowd. Traveler had arrived.
Trusted by Natlan’s people, Lumine had been aiding in the fight against the Abyss, journeying between tribes, offering her strength where needed. But now, as she approached the heart of the stadium, something was different.
In her arms was a body.
Kinich’s heart stopped. He knew. He didn’t need to see the face to know.
(Y/N).
Your body was cradled gently, but there was no life left in you. Blood stained the fabric of your clothes, dirt clung to your skin, and your once-vibrant face was pale, a ghost of the warrior you had been. Lumine’s expression was solemn as she laid you down before Kinich, her eyes reflecting the weight of what she had found.
“We found her in a village,” the traveler said quietly, her voice heavy. “The Abyss was fierce there. I couldn’t make it in time. I’m truly sorry, Kinich.”
The words barely registered. Kinich knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they reached for you. You were cold—so impossibly cold. His fingers brushed the dirt from your face, and his breath hitched. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, no light in your eyes.
You were gone.
Mualani, standing beside him, looked devastated. She had always been the positive one, the one who could find hope even in the darkest of times. But now, there was nothing but raw grief in her eyes. She knelt beside Kinich, placing a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything. What could she say? Her best friend was dead.
Kinich didn’t remember the last time he had cried. Had he ever? In his life as a warrior, as a survivor, tears had never been an option. However, as he knelt beside you, the woman he loved, holding your lifeless body in his arms, the tears came. Silent at first, then breaking into sobs that wracked his entire frame. His head bent low, his forehead resting against your cold skin as he wept for the promises you’d never keep, the future you would never have.
“Why…” he choked, his voice cracking. “Why didn’t I…” He couldn’t finish. The words shattered in his throat, swallowed by the weight of his grief.
Ajaw, ever so present, stood next to him. The dragon had always had something to say—cruel, biting remarks about the fragility of human life. But now, even him was silent. No words, no disdain. Just silence.
Kinich’s tears soaked into your skin as he held you closer, the world around him fading into nothing. All he could see was your face, your cold body, the life you had fought so hard to protect.
“See you soon,” you had promised. This time, however, Kinich knew. That promise would never come true.
Mualani’s hand stayed on his shoulder as Kinich wept, her own eyes filled with tears she could no longer hold back. But she let him cry, let him cling to the last shred of the person he had loved.
And in the silence that followed, the miasma of the Abyss hung heavy over Natlan, a cruel reminder of the war that had stolen so much from them all.
.
.
a/n: i don't know how to write good angst neither i do like to write angst. but this archon quest really left an impression on me. i hope you've suffered enough though i wrote this in a hurry.
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greensagephase · 1 year ago
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Nonviolent Communication - Part One
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Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: You don't show up to a meeting or report for other duties as a Spider Society member because of your period. Your boss shows up to your apartment. Word Count: 5,144 Warning: A little bit of angst?; Mention of death; menstruation, cramps A/N: There's multiple pieces of fan art for this fic. If you'd like to check it out, you can find everything linked in my masterlist! Masterlist Music Inspo (Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, A$AP Rocky, 21 Savage Next Part
Part One
You were recruited four months ago into the Spider Society. Ever since the beginning, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards the leader and founder of the society. You learned quickly about his past and the way he carried himself these days.
Miguel O’Hara worked day and night. If he wasn’t in his lab working on something, he was out on missions with a select few members or on his own. There were days that you wouldn’t even see him. You wondered if anyone did on those days. You told yourself to mind your business. It’s not like you were friends and you hardly interacted anyway. You were a member of the Spider Society but one of the newest ones. You weren’t part of the most trusted members for Miguel.
And yet… There was something. You felt a need to look after him. You couldn’t understand it. You wanted to chalk it up to interest. Maybe you found his story interesting. How a man had simply replaced a version of himself in another universe to be a father, only to lose her when that universe collapsed. How heartbroken and guilt-filled he was over it. That had to be it, you told yourself. It was just intrigue. 
You figured that if you just gave in to your interest, it would go away eventually. It would fade away… So, you allowed yourself to be interested. You showed up to meetings earlier than anyone else when Miguel scheduled them. You stopped by the cafeteria to pick up coffee cups beforehand and arrived at the meeting earlier. You came in, looking unbothered and uninterested as you placed the cup of coffee in front of him, greeting him.
“The cafeteria staff gave me another cup, and I didn’t know what to do with it,” you’d say as he looked up with an uninterested look on his face.
You’d walk away and take a seat a few chairs away, picking up the nicely done reports he provided at every meeting. You did this every week with a different excuse each time. You didn’t know if he ever wondered why the cafeteria staff gave you so much coffee since that was usually your excuse. You doubted he even cared; you were just another member.
The first few times, you noticed the cup would sit in the same exact spot you’d leave it. Miguel wouldn’t even acknowledge it after looking up at you. You still brought it each week. After some weeks, he wouldn’t even look up when you placed the cup in front of him on the desk but – he started giving you a small grunt of acknowledgement. You’d walk away with a little grin, quickly putting it away when you sat down on your usual seat so he wouldn’t notice it.
Then about two weeks later, you saw it. As he was going over the reports and listening to Ben Reilly ramble on about his past because of some anomaly he caught that week, he picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. You looked away as you felt his gaze about to turn to you. The reports looked very interesting indeed.
All throughout this, you also started showing up to his lab after he and Jessica requested to see you about a mission. You noticed there was quite a mess of gadgets lying around. You offered to organize it, as it is something you enjoy and are good at. You didn’t even know why you offered but Jessica seemed eager about the idea while Miguel frowned.
“Oh, come on, Miguel. Some organization around here wouldn’t hurt, you know? Look at this mess,” Jessica said looking around, pointing at different areas cluttered with all sorts of tech pieces.
“Fine,” Miguel said as he walked away, apparently done with the conversation.
Jessica beamed at you. She seemed to like you a lot since you did your job well and didn’t get into any drama. You were like the perfect pupil. You nodded at her, with a warm smile.
So that’s how you ended up showing up once a week to Miguel’s lab to do some organizing. You show up and organize as he works on something. Sometimes he is up in the air on his platform, going through monitors. You simply greet him as you arrive before you begin organizing and cleaning. Sometimes there is no response, other times there is just a “hmm”.
These visits have led to Lyla taking a liking to you. She often asks you questions as you work while Miguel is there. You don’t know if he pays attention to what Lyla and you talk about. You honestly doubt he even listens. He is always so engrossed in what he is doing.
Lyla definitely makes the time pass faster. It isn’t like you wanted it to but the silence in the lab is… off sometimes. Lyla asks you all sorts of things like whether you have plans for that weekend, if you enjoy a certain activity because other spider members enjoy it, if you like a certain food, or how missions have gone, etc. It is always something different. You respond to her questions as you work. You are fast and efficient.
You never miss a week, and you are never late as you have made it a habit to show up at the same time. Except this week that is. You started your period and this month is kicking your butt with excruciating cramps and lower back pain. You barely make it to your home after patrolling your city, sliding into bed in pain.
You dig through your nightstand, looking for the specific medicine you take to take care of this even if it makes you extremely drowsy and dizzy. You take it and lie down, hoping it will help right away as you groan in pain. You lie in bed, clutching your stomach. The medicine definitely makes you drowsy and dizzy, but it doesn’t seem to help much with the pain. You pass out a few times but wake up again, the pain too much.
You’re so out of it that you don’t notice the time. You don’t remember the day. You don’t notice the sun out behind your closed blinds. You don’t hear a multidimensional portal open in your small apartment living room. You don’t register the heavy footsteps that move through your apartment. Your eyes are closed, hands clutching your stomach, soft groans escaping your lips. You don’t see the large shadow moving through your room until the last second.
“Go away,” you say weakly, thinking someone has broken into your home.
Despite your pain, despite feeling drowsy and dizzy, your mind still has the time to find this funny. The one day you feel like absolute crap is the day someone decides to break into your apartment. And you’re Spider-Woman! How ironic, you think. Let them take whatever they want, you think, as long as they don’t hurt you.
However, you are surprised when you feel a warm and heavy hand pressed to your forehead.
“No fever,” the voice says stating it as a fact.
You continue to clutch your stomach, eyes closed. Unbeknownst to you as you lay in bed in and out of it, a man is in your apartment. His height towers over you in bed.
Miguel O’Hara is in your apartment… Checking on you. He stares down at you as you lay in bed. He sees you clutching your stomach and as he observes carefully, he sees no injury. There is no sight of blood either. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. You are clearly in pain but why? He turns to your nightstand, noticing the bottle of pills. He inspects it. Painkillers…
His eyebrows furrow further as he realizes what it could be. He walks to your bathroom to confirm. His suspicion is confirmed when he takes a look at your garbage can, spotting the plastic wraps of feminine products. His suspicion is further confirmed when he sees a pack of feminine products on the counter, ready for easy access.
“Coño,” he says quietly as he realizes his suspicion is true.
He walks out of your bathroom, looking at your shape in the bed. You are still clutching your stomach and soft groans escape from your lips ever so often. Miguel remembers the days he used to take care of his wife before everything collapsed. It was a long time since he had even thought about doing that for a woman, but his mind started remembering everything he did to ease his wife’s pain each month. He stood there, thinking before he walked out of your bedroom and into the one room that was the kitchen, the living room, and dining room all at once… New York apartments, Miguel thought, as he took in your apartment.
You were organized and clean, but that didn’t surprise Miguel. You did organize the lab each week with such ease despite Lyla peppering you with questions the entire time. Your apartment was warm with its colors. It gave the impression of someone happy and warm. Miguel noticed a bookshelf in the part of the apartment that plays the living room. It is filled with so many books that you have some stacked horizontally over the vertical ones. An avid reader, Miguel thinks before he heads to your kitchen.
It is clean for the most part except for a plate and a cup. Miguel searches through your kitchen, looking for something specific. He returns to your room, looking through your drawers looking for something else. A few minutes later, he returns to your bedroom. You lay still. Seems that you have passed out at last. With ease, Miguel slides some homemade socks with warm rice under your sweatshirt. He places one on your stomach and the other one on your back.
A satisfied hum escapes your lips, letting Miguel know his idea was somewhat successful despite it being homemade. He gives you one more look before heading out to your living room.
He doesn’t even know why he came. All he knows is that you didn’t show up to organize the lab like you did each week. You didn’t show up to the morning meeting either. Jessica hadn’t heard from you in hours and there was no activity from your gizmo.
A few hours later, you wake up from your slumber. You yawn and stretch your body gently. You lay in bed for a few seconds, realizing your pain is gone. Now you just feel the exhaustion that comes from having a period. You sit up in bed slowly, feeling something on your stomach. You look down. Your sweatshirt is tucked into your shorts on both sides. You untuck it and two socks filled with something slide out. You furrow your eyebrows as you lift them up to inspect closer. You bring them to your nose.
“Rice…” you say, recognizing the specific scent of rice. Your eyebrows furrow but you shrug. You don’t even remember getting up to make these, but you thank yourself for doing it despite being out of it. You get up from bed slowly and check the time. It’s already evening. You decide to take a shower to ease your muscles.
Your shower is hot. You fill the bathroom with fog, but it doesn’t matter. It makes you feel like a million bucks when you get into fresh clothes, all shower and fresh. You head out of your bedroom to get something to drink and that’s when you see it. The lamps in the living room are on, there is music playing from your record player. You look confused as you step out further.
“Mierda,” you hear an annoyed male voice, causing you to jump a little.
You turn to the voice, located in the kitchen and find…
“Miguel?” you say slowly but with confusion as you find him with his back to you.
He stands in front of one of your kitchen cabinets, holding it open. There’s a screwdriver in his hand. He turns around at your voice.
“Y/N… You’re awake,” he says turning fully around now.
You take him in. He’s in his suit as always. You’ve wondered many times if he ever just dresses in casual clothes since he’s always in his suit. He stands tall, of course, and you can’t help but think how he makes your already small kitchen look ten times smaller than it is with him standing there. You rub your eyes, making sure this isn’t just some hallucination.
“Um- you are here,” you say looking at him again.
Miguel nods, turning back around to the cabinet. You watch as he uses the screwdriver. You remember then. Your loose cabinet that has been a pain in the butt for months now. You look around the place. There were some dishes in your sink, or at least you remember there being some but now they’re gone. You notice the trash was taken out. Clean dishes were put away. And to your surprise, there’s food on the stove. There’s also a sweet scent lingering in the air that you cannot pinpoint right now.  
“You feel better?” Miguel asks, with his back still to you as he finishes fixing the cabinet.
“Yes. A lot better, actually…” you say as you cross your arms across your chest, finding this situation so strange.
Miguel turns around to face you now. He looks at you before looking down at the screwdriver in his hand. The screwdriver looks like a toy in his hand, you notice.
“Yeah, well…” Miguel starts, looking up at you again. “Jessica was worried about you. She said you didn’t report to the meeting we had this morning. She asked if you had gone to my lab to organize it and when I told her no, she grew worried something had happened to you since she also noticed no activity from your gizmo. She wanted to come herself and check on you, but the baby kept her busy today. She asked me to come in and check for her.”
I nod, realizing that makes perfect sense. Jessica has grown fond of you after all, you just never realized she was that fond of you.
“Well, thank you for checking in on me for her. I’ll be sure to thank her tomorrow,” you say looking around the kitchen again.
“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Miguel says, putting the screwdriver down on the counter. It looks normal sized again. You raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t like it when people thank for her… caring. If you want to thank her, just get her a coffee and tell her you appreciate her mentorship,” Miguel explains, resting his hands on his hips.
You nod slowly, maybe it was better to just thank her for everything instead of just this act. You sigh.
“I guess you’re right,” you say, scratching your neck softly. “Did she also tell you to fix my cabinet, or did that just bother you so much?”
Miguel’s face remains void of any expression. You wanted to ask about the homemade socks with rice since it became apparent to you that you weren’t responsible for them, but you kept your mouth shut.
“I was looking for – rice when I noticed your loose cabinet and other messed up things around here. You have a shitty landlord or something?” he asks, looking around.
You shrug. “Yeah, but the rent is good.”
“You’re not exactly strapped for cash, are you?”
You shake your head. It was true. You had some money. You could afford to move somewhere else where the landlords were better but…
“Why are you still here then?” Miguel asks.
His question is laced with interest, and you can’t help but think about how this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him since… meeting each other. And even then, that conversation was probably about three minutes long. You avert your gaze from him, looking at the wall nearest to you. Your eyes land on a single picture amongst many.
You lost your Peter three years ago, just like many of your spider colleagues. Losing him has been the hardest thing you have ever experienced. You have been punched till the air was knocked out of you, you have laid in ruble with buildings crushed over you, and you have been on the verge of death many times, but nothing has ever nor will ever compare to the pain and grief of losing Peter.
As you look at the picture of Peter and you, the one you took the first day you moved into this apartment, you think about all the memories in this apartment. It was all the two of you could afford back then but you two loved it. It was your place. It was the first time you were living together, and it didn’t matter much that it was a little rundown. You guys just wanted a place to live together. You two made it what it is now. A warm and happy place where you two could come home after a long day of work. You spent hours thinking of how to decorate it. Choosing the right and most affordable couch, choosing the wallpaper, choosing where the furniture went.
In the end, it had turned into a beautiful apartment. It was a haven for the two of you but what mattered the most was that you shared it with him, your Peter. You sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the loss again. You had moved on, of course. You had to. How else would you live otherwise? And you had promised Peter you would. Your mind is overwhelmed by the sudden memories as he laid in your arms. He had been crushed by ruble during an attack by a villain, his body was weak, his eyes glistened as they looked at you. You remember caressing his face and hair. He loved it when you did that. He always said it was the perfect way to soothe his nerves. The perfect way to get him to relax and nap after a stressful day.
Your own eyes were filled with tears as you saw it. The way his life was slowly leaving his body. What hurt a million times more, if it was even possible to hurt that much, was that you knew he knew. He knew that was it. There was no turning back. There was no miracle. There was no secret medicine or miracle serum that could make him get up and walk away from this unscathed. That was it.
You held him in your arms, rubble all around you. He looked at your eyes, his own hazy, as you caressed his face and hair. He gave you a gentle smile as he reassured you, he was okay.
“You will move on, right, baby?” he asked you, his voice indicating how little time there was left. “You have to… You must promise me you will. This city depends on you.”
You nodded your head and unable to hold them back any longer, your tears spilled down your face. You remember how some of your tears had landed on his pale yet still beautiful face.
“You must promise me, out loud, darling. Please,” he said, struggling more to get his words out.
“I promise. I promise I will try my best…” you said, and he had nodded. He looked satisfied with your response.
“You must continue – you are my hero. You always have been. And you are the love of my life, darling… I only wish we had more time. That I had more time to make you happier… To make you, my wife. Please – promise me you will be open to other loves,” he had gasped out.
You shook your head. That was impossible. How could you fall for someone else when Peter was the love of your life? Peter, noticing your reluctance, lifted his hand weakly to your face. Despite everything, he was still trying to comfort you. You felt something in you break further. He wiped your tears and gave you a weak yet comforting smile.
“Please promise me you will allow yourself to love again… If there is someone out there that makes you feel like that, please promise me you won’t shut them out. Please, love, promise me,” he said, looking at your eyes and cleaning your tears away.
His voice was weaker, and you noticed his chest was beginning to rise slower and slower. The time was running out…
“I promise I will. I will open my heart if someone comes along but I promise I will never stop loving you, Peter,” you had answered, trying to make him happy in his last minutes. He smiled at you, sweetly, and thanked you. You held him close to you, breathing in his scent. You tried to hold on to his warmth desperately. You clung to him, like you could defend him from Death herself. Like you could defy her this one time.
You cried your soul out as his heartbeat ceased to beat. You cried out as his body became limped in your arms. You cried as his chest stopped moving. You cried, cried, and cried as you held him close to you like your tears and grip could bring him back.
You cursed Death.
You often worried about hurting Peter if something happened to you. You never counted on Peter being the one who left too soon.
You inhale shakily. Your vision has become blurred with tears as you continue to stare at the picture on the wall. You turn around, remembering that Miguel is there. You wipe your tears discreetly. You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to force it down. Otherwise, the moment you speak, your tears will flow. You clear your throat.
“It doesn’t really bother me – and besides, I spend a lot of time out,” you finally say, sounding somewhat normal now. Though the ache is there, deep in your chest. It’s like someone stabbed you in the heart with a wooden stick and left a small piece of it stuck. It always hurts, it always aches.
Miguel doesn’t reply as you turn back around, feeling more in control of yourself. However, you can see something in his eyes. Perhaps understanding? You guessed he probably knew to some extent what had happened to you. It was a canon event for all spider-people. To lose someone.
“Have you eaten anything?” Miguel asks suddenly, dropping the apartment conversation probably for your own sake.
You shake your head. It was hours since you had eaten something. Since yesterday, really.
“There’s some food here. Let me…” he says trailing off, turning around to get a plate from a cabinet. You can’t help but feel a little surprised at how fast he learned his way around the kitchen. Then again, it’s not that large you realize. You approach the kitchen island and take a seat on one of the two island chairs as Miguel turns around with a plate of pasta. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. It is one of your comfort foods. Miguel slides it over to you, gently. A fork is already on it, ready for you.
You slide the plate closer, the scent of it making your stomach growl instantly. You’re definitely hungry.
“Thank you,” you say before you dig in. You can’t help but smile with satisfaction. It is amazing. “This is really good.”
Miguel doesn’t say anything, just watches you. You eat some more, feeling a bit self-conscious as you feel his gaze on you, but you ignore it. Or try to.
“So, are you a really great cook or is pasta one of the few things you can cook?” you ask, slowing down on your eating, trying to fill in the silence.
Miguel shrugs. “My mother taught me how to cook when I was a teenager. It stuck.”
You nod, still eating. “Great skill to have, really… It helped me and –“ you pause, realizing you were about to mention Peter. You swallow. “It helped Peter and I when we were in college,” you finish, looking down at your plate.
A hint of a smile forms on your face as you remember Peter and you cooking for the week over the weekends. You guys lived separately but shared groceries to help each other out. It saved you guys a lot of time and money and brought the two of you closer.
“It is a great skill to have,” Miguel agrees quietly as you continue to eat, looking down at your plate.
You nod silently as you finish eating. You look up at Miguel, he’s looking down at the counter. His hands are flat against the counter, and he looks lost in his own thoughts. You can’t help but take this time to look at him. The sight of him in your kitchen is really something. You think about how great he is at these things like looking after a woman when they’re on their period or cooking. You want to facepalm yourself as you realize it’s obvious he would be good at these things. He did have a wife and daughter at one point, you remind yourself. You look down at your plate.
“Oh, I made this for you, too,” Miguel says at last, breaking the silence.
You look up curiously, wondering what else he had made. He turns around towards the stove and you watch carefully as he retrieves a mug from one of the cabinets. Again, you feel surprised seeing how he knows exactly where to find what he’s looking for. It disappears from your view in front of him and you hear him pour something. He turns around again, holding one of your mugs. Whatever it is, is hot as you can see steam from the top. He sets the mug down on the counter and slides it over to you. Again, his movements are gentle. You lean forward and reach for it.
“Careful. It’s hot,” he warns, as you pull the mug towards you gently.
The scent fills your nostrils quickly and you recognize the sweet scent that met you earlier when you exited your bedroom. You look up at him.
“Canelita,” you say, grinning.
Miguel nods. “Growing up, my mom said it helped with cramps. It used to help my…” he trails off.
You nod. “Yeah, my grandma used to say that, too.” You pause as you inhale the sweetness of cinnamon. “Thank you…” you reply, with sincerity, still meeting his eyes.
Miguel only nods. You drink the warm liquid, enjoying the warmth that spreads down your throat, chest, and finally your stomach. As it settles in your stomach, you feel warm and cozy.
Miguel clears his throat then and looks down at his gizmo. “Well – I should get going. I have some things to catch up on,” he says turning his attention back to you.
You nod as you place the mug on the counter gently and get up. He walks out of the kitchen portion and heads to the middle of the room. He starts clicking on his gizmo, presumably starting a multidimensional portal. You walk towards him, leaving some distance, of course. He looks up at you as the portal appears in the middle of your apartment behind him.
You clear your throat. “Hey – I just wanted to say thank you… For everything. I know Jessica asked you to check up on me, but you did much more than that. I truly appreciate it,” you say, hoping that you’re fully expressing how grateful you are.
You can’t help but think about how you’d probably still be in bed right now. Miguel nods.
“It’s no problem…” Miguel replies, though he looks like he wants to say more. You watch, waiting but he just stares back with little emotion until he nods at you and turns around. He starts walking into the portal. The bright lights coming from the portal create shadows in your apartment. You watch wordlessly until he looks behind his shoulder. “Don’t forget – don’t mention it to Jessica. She can be weird about being thanked sometimes.”
You nod. “I won’t bring it up, no worries. Thank you again. Enjoy your night!” you call out and he just nods before he disappears into the portal. The portal disappears a few seconds after him, taking away its shadows with it.
You sigh as you stand there for a few more seconds before taking a seat again on the counter island. You drink more canelita, still cherishing the warm feeling. You look at the stove. Everything is in containers and there’s no sight of dirty pans, pots, or utensils.
“Cooked and washed the dishes…” you say to yourself before taking a sip again.
Your attention turns to the cabinet you found him fixing earlier. You get up and walk towards it. You open it with no issue. You think about all the little nicks this kitchen has. Like the drawer that doesn’t come out fully or the other cabinet door that makes a noise every time you open it. Curiosity gets the best of you because before you know it, you are pulling said drawer. Your lips part in surprise as the drawer fully slides out without issues. You check the other cabinet door. No sound.
You sigh as you look around, your eyes landing on the containers. One of them is full of leftover pasta and the other one contains the canelita. Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear your gizmo go off. You turn in the direction it came from, trying to remember where you left it last night. You are usually very careful with it but last night you barely made it through the door.
You find the gizmo on the console table in the living room section of your apartment. You realize there are a few messages from your colleagues like Hobie, Miles, Ben, and Jessica. You quickly reply to the first three who asked about your whereabouts before you move to Jessica’s. You realize she sent multiple messages all ranging from asking how your last mission went to why you weren’t answering to asking if you were okay. The last one makes you stop. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you read it.
“Okay… You haven’t replied to any of my messages. Do I need to send someone to check on you? You’ve been MIA all day. Let me know you’re okay!!”
You look up towards where the portal was opened just minutes ago. You shake your head and reply to Jessica, notifying her about what happened. You leave out Miguel though. You put away your gizmo in its usual spot and look around your apartment, thinking. The lamps in the living room section are still on, the record player has stopped playing, however.
“Hm.”
--------------------------------------------- Translation for italicized words: Coño - fuck (it varies by country) Mierda - Shit Canelita - a tea made out of cinnamon sticks
Next Part
A/N: Might do part two. If it matters, I listened to "Nonviolent Communication" from the ATSV album as inspiration. Such a lovely song for Miguel, I think.
I love Miguel O'Hara. That's all.
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