#she stares into ur soul (not intentional)

[oz2b]

In today's update I bring you all Iris (Aphmau) She get's a name change bc I say so, also bc it's cute, expect me to do this with most of them LOL

Sharing the wip for them again aswell :)

Also made her have Silver bc I wanted the main lil 3 in my brain to have different colors

Lu Lu - Gold

Iris - Silver

Gareth - Bronze

Also sharing some coloring stuff I do!

Ft. some older art...Oh how far the sillies have come...

[explorevenus]

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ FROM THE DINING TABLE . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ is it possible to fall out of love? ...apparently so. (0.7k)

contains; exes, reader sees gojo w/ his new girlfriend, ur just the sad and lonely ex who can't get over him idk author's note; i am stressed and this is how im coping

it's been three months.

only three months since you and satoru broke things off. since satoru told you he lost feelings and could no longer string you along as you gazed at him with lovesick eyes etched in hearts; which were well deserved considering your relationship lasted a little over three years.

you loved him so much. no. you love him so much. you'll never stop loving him for as long as you can breathe, because who is he if not your soulmate? there's no one else that understands you, listens to you, and notices all of your ticks and little emotions that are blind to the common eye. satoru is the one that you're supposed to end up with; that you're supposed to marry as you walk down the aisle awaiting that bright smile he always flashed in your direction.

if you're supposed to marry satoru...

...why is he smiling at someone else?

"oh, shit." he finally notices your presence and it's somewhat insulting considering the market isn't too crowded. "hey, how've you been?"

his tone is almost condescending. why would he be asking that question? he should know that you're an absolute and complete mess over him. he should be an absolute and complete mess over you, too. you don't care that he claims to have fallen out of love. that's impossible. that's just something that happens in the movies; and if your life is anything like one of those cheesy romcoms— you desperately hope that you're not the character that gets their heart broken for the main lead.

"i'm okay." you lie. you're not okay. your heart is pounding at a rate that's so rapid you think you're about to pass out, thudding inside of your chest in its best attempt to leap from your body and land in satoru's open hands. now that you're noticing them, though, they're not open. they're firmly clasped to whoever this new stranger is. whoever his new girlfriend is. "who's this?"

he waves his hand dismissively. "don't worry about it." to which the girl giggles and leans into his side.

they're mocking you. you can't help but feel that way.

you can't help but feel your heart break into glass fragments that once were a stained glass mural of your love story. the images of him confessing his feelings after the snow melted in spring, whispering his love for you for the first time when summer began, and the promise ring he was so excited about giving you during your last holiday together, all clash to the ground— becoming incoherent memories that only you care to recall. it's clear that satoru is happily cementing new moments with this girl who's likely somewhat similar to you. she seems sweet and kind, and you hope that she escapes being strung along far sooner than you did.

"you look cute together." the smile on your face is clearly phony. he knows you well enough to be able to tell, and you're sure that she's able to understand, too.

"thank you!" she's so nice? why does he always go for nice girls? if you could take a guess, it's because he enjoys watching them fall for him...watching them give up their entire hearts for his love, only to shred them to pieces like receipt paper that he no longer cares to hold onto. what a monster.

...but you still love him.

"you're welcome." your reply is as genuine as you can fake it to be, and it's possible you've fooled her. you haven't fooled satoru, though. your ex is staring at you with knowing intent, seeing the bitterness in your soul that you hide from everyone else. "satoru, can we talk?"

please.

"what is there to talk about?" his laugh practically drowns you. you feel as if there's a weighted anchor attached to your ankle with a rope that's impossible to break apart with your bare hands. it's pulling you deeper and deeper into the depths of abyss, giggling as you struggle for air and water fills your lungs. the fish say hello. they watch as your lungs close in. they wave goodbye when your eyes finally close.

"forget i said anything."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[emira-addams]

Dude I asbsplutely loved ur velvette and Odette fic??? And I was wondering you take requests? I was hoping i could request some emilute!! (Emily x Lute) us emilute shippers are starving

Hazbin Hotel - Emily x Lute - Drag Me to Hell

"No!" Emily almost shouted at her sister, while tears gathered in her eyes and blurred her vision. Again and again she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "You can't just kick her out of Heaven. She has nowhere to go, they'd rip her apart in Hell!"

Sera crossed her arms sternly in front of her chest "I'm so sick of Lute's permanent misbehavior!" she scolded. "She's always causing problems. She doesn't go to her appointments with her doctors and her sessions with her therapists. She refuses to take her medication. She bothers the other residents of Heaven, she scares them. She can't control her emotions and she's not seriously trying to get better." Sera sighed sorrowfully. "Emily, I have to think about the greater good for all the residents of Heaven, I'm responsible for all of you and I can't allow Lute's misbehavior any longer..."

"Sera, please... Don't give up on Lute so soon..." Emily pleaded, her voice full of despair. She looked intently at her sister, her vision blurred with tears. "Please, Sera, don't kick Lute out of Heaven... I promise you, I'll make sure Lute does everything you want... I promise, I'll take all responsibility for her!"

Sera's cold gaze started to warm slightly. Somehow she was proud of Emily, her little sister really wouldn't give up on any soul so easily. "All right," she agreed to Emily's suggestion. "But you're completely responsible for Lute and if she misbehaves again, I'll kick her out of Heaven for good..."

"Thank you!" Emily squealed and threw her arms around her sister's neck, hugging her tightly while beaming with joy.

"Good evening, Lute!"

Emily found Lute on the edge of Heaven, sitting silently on the ledge and staring down into Hell. Her shoulders sagged and her legs dangled in the void. Once again, Lute hadn't shown up for one of her appointments.

Too lost in her thoughts, Lute winced, startled. She looked up, confusion reflected in her glassy eyes as she looked Emily up and down. "Hey, Emily..." she greeted the youngest Seraphim hoarsely. Her voice rasped with dust, so rarely had Lute used it recently. "Can I help you?" she asked politely. She contorted her face into a grimace and made an effort to smile for Emily.

"No," Emily replied bluntly, joining Lute on the edge instead.

"Why are you here?" Lute wanted to know quietly, her voice wavering and the hand in her lap trembling. She was looking bad. Black circles under her eyes formed a stark contrast to her sallow skin, she was terribly pale and her body trembled. Golden blood stained the bandage around the stump of her left arm; it had probably not been changed for days.

Emily sighed sadly. "I'm here to help you..." She put her hand on Lute's remaining one to stop her trembling. "We all want to help you, the doctors and the therapists... So tell me, why are you skipping your appointments?"

"I don't know?" Lute shrugged her shoulders, slowly lowering her heavy head to rest on Emily's shoulder. She enjoyed her warmth, while the sun disappeared behind the horizon, the black of the night bleeding into the golden glow. Bright stars shone above them. "Every time they sit in front of me and look at me so disapprovingly with their stern gazes, analyzing my symptoms superficially and claiming so confidently that they know what will help me. As soon as my hour is over, they shoo me out the door with empty words of encouragement and a plastic bag of medication to numb me..." Lute tilted her head back, looking longingly up at the stars. "You know, Emily, if I take these pills, my whole world will go numb. If I don't take the pills, then I feel the faux pain in my missing arm, and if I still can feel the pain in my arm, then my arm is still attached to my body, right?" Lute laughed bitterly, glistening tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto Emily's hand. "Then it never really happened, I am still an exorcist and he's still with me. If I don't take the pills, I'll still hear his voice and I'll still see him standing in front of me. I don't want to take these pills, please, because if I do, I'll really lose him..." Lute looked to the ground. "With these pills it's too true to be good..."

"Oh, Lute..." Gently, Emily squeezed her hand. Emily never saw Lute cry before and she couldn’t do much against her tears, so she intertwined their fingers while her other hand gently turned Lute's chin towards her, coaxing her to look at her. "I'm sorry, but you can't just suppress reality for ever..." Emily leaned her forehead against Lute's as fine fingertips ran tenderly over her cheekbones, wiping away the stray tears again and again.

"I can try..." Lute whispered, while she lost herself in her eyes.

"You can’t just give in to your inner demons so easily." Emily shook her head. She saw the pain in her eyes. She heard the pain in her voice. "I won't let you to, Lute, I promise..."

I have never written Emily and Lute, but I hope, you like it! It was fun, maybe I will continue this idea?

[yellowocaballero]

hyped for claude story, just from the little blurb and ur tags it looks like its gonna be hysterical

I'm gonna be real man. Is there tight plot? No. Is there anything other than dialogue? Of course not. Is it fast paced? You don't even need to ask. But it is the unwilling recipient of months of my insanity, and for that purpose I admire its resilience. It works because it is also the story of one boy slowly descending into absolute insanity.

I think people sometimes think of Claude as the comic relief and 'only sane man' in the leaders. This is untrue. He's fucking nuts. Imagine if a Japanese-American read a lot of websites on Japan and decided to move to Japan, pretend he was fully Japanese despite obviously being half-White, had been there the entire time, and became Emperor of Japan. He's living his best Dancing With Wolves life. My first decision of the story was that Claude probably didn't call himself his white people name/alias in his head, and that ended up changing a lot. I think if you take a different perspective of him, and decide to understand him a certain way, he becomes absolutely the most bugfuck and interesting character in FE3H.

All three House leaders pretend to be good people and, in fact, are actually pretty shitty people (except for Yuri, who pretends to be a bad person and is an actual angel). Claude is selfish, self-centered, and apathetic. Claude here is actually worse than in canon - for actual reasons that will become clear around 75k into the story. Weekenders was about somebody who saved lives but doomed souls; Rosetta Headstone is about somebody who saved souls but doomed themselves. I think the ending of both stories reflects that.

Anyway, meanwhile Byleth is living her New Game+ and she is killing it.

Also, transcript of that text under the cut - it's a bit long for alt text.

Byleth walked through the door. The bucket of water fell on her head. She had been absolutely drenched. 

Byleth had blinked at them, water dripping in rivulets across her hair. Most of the class was laughing their ass off, even Khalid. An absolutely atrocious first impression on their teacher, but the students had successfully won dominance. They had driven away their first teacher in tears and they could do the same to this one. Every student in the class either hated to work (Hilda and Marianne, for surprisingly identical reasons), hated being told what to do (Leonie, Lorenz, Lysithea), or went along with the rest (Ignatz and Raphael). There had been no intention of bowing down to an authority figure. What were they, the Blue Lions? Bootlickers?

“Is there a leak?” Byleth asked. 

The laughter died. Everybody stared at Byleth. Byleth tilted her head. 

Slow, tremulous, Ignatz pointed at the bucket. Byleth looked down, squinting.

“Oh. Why was that there?”

Straight faced, Hilda said, “Maybe the custodian left it.”

“Okay.” Byleth had walked forward, taking her place in the front of class. She bowed, a little stiff and awkward. “Hello. I’m your teacher. Please treat me well.” She looked up, eyes crinkling faintly in what Khalid would come to recognize as her edition of a smile. “I’m happy to be here.”

The tone was set. Byleth was unflappable. 

Salt in her coffee? She drank it all without flinching. Hidden alarm clock set to ring during class? She found it instantly. Frogs labeled 1, 2, and 4 in the classroom? Byleth sadly noted that 3 must have been eaten by a hawk, and she spent the rest of the class delighting over her shiny new frogs. Watching her feed the frogs little worms was adorable. It was so cute that the pranks stopped. Nobody could stomach it anymore. She was too innocent. 

Khalid, famous for his honest, straightforward, and upfront nature, hated liars. And Professor Byleth was stinking of deceit. Nobody was that adorable. She had a plot and he would sniff it out. 

[silluuuu]

six-sentence sunday!

happy sunday friends. i've got more of One for the Road to share today - no idea when the next chapter will actually post, but we're makin' dents ⚒️! time for more flashbacks~

---

“I think I’m gonna need a car,” she says one day as they’re lounging on her bed, a hand on her chin as she stares intently at her laptop.

Soul nods at her, taking a headphone off an ear, music humming idly through one eardrum. “Gotta have somewhere to put those five pairs of running shoes,” he says.

She pouts, grumpy. “Hey - it was a necessary investment! If I’m gonna do indoor track I need one kind of shoe, for outdoor track I need another type of shoe, if I do discus I’ll need something else—”

Throwing heavy objects does seem well within her wheelhouse, though he doesn’t understand the need to invest in this stuff before she even tries it - though maybe that’s just his natural aversion to the word investment.

---

okay i know y'all have been writing @chickycherrycola @mellancholy-morose @blackbloodteeth - post ur thangs!! 💖

[aladaylessecondblog]

Nerevarine & Friends (pt. 5)

So this fic is basically a collection of one-shots that serves as a backstory to the Skyrim fanfic. Mostly it's how my nord Nerevarine gets to where he is there. It can be found on my Ao3 page, "Aladayle"

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"The Ideal Masters"

---------------------

He had gone back to his old name, his nord name, and somehow that was enough to escape the notice of most Dunmer--outside of Morrowind, anyway. Save, perhaps, for Azura's most devoted.

He did not know if she was angry at him--he did not know if she was anything at all, for she had gone silent. Not since telling him he should leave Dagoth Ur to his ruin, and he had denied her, had she spoken to him.

So, he thought then, and now, I am alone once again.

Alone, save for the corpse strapped to his back.

No one would help Voryn if he did not. No one would deliver his body to a family tomb, no one would shed a tear, no one would spare so much as a kind thought.

--------------------------------

Molag Bal had demanded Vivec's suffering in exchange for the vampirism bestowed upon Voryn's body, and Sigurd had done it.

The man had seemed so infuriatingly calm on seeing him enter the temple, as angry as he was. Had given him that passive stare, and bowed his head as in defeat. Perhaps he imagined it, but he felt he saw something mocking him from those two-colored eyes.

There is nothing you can do to me that Molag Bal did not already do.

But still, he had been charged with this man's suffering, so he delivered it in spades. Vivec did not react to his strikes in time to do much of anything, but Vivec's priests, some brave enough to try and stop him--and then the Ordinators--

--the temple's floor would remained stained red ever after (or at least until Baar Dau fell), and he would leave with Vivec's soul stored in Azura's Star.

The Day of Blood, it would be called by worshippers of the Tribunal. The Day of Vengeance, it would be called by all others.

Nerevar, Moon-and-Star, Hortator and leader of Mer.

Godkiller.

Corpsebearer.

------------------------------

Fool.

"You cannot be serious," Sigurd said, half-growling at the hooded figure before him. He looked briefly at the uncovered body of Voryn, laying on an altar between the two of them.

"We wish to return the soul to you, but you must understand--"

"We made a deal. Vivec for Voryn," Sigurd went on. "THAT was the deal."

"--the Sharmat must go somewhere," the hooded figure went on, as if they had not been interrupted. "Surely your soul can bear the weight?"

"We MADE A DEAL!"

"The Sharmat must go somewhere," the figure said again. "A spirit of such malevolence, separated from its source--we cannot tolerate such a thing here."

"You're reneging. Trying to double-cross me--"

He pointed Keening at the figure, who seemed more amused by the gesture than anything.

"Do you want his soul or not?"

"You," Sigurd snarled.

"There is no other way. Either you take this deal or we keep him. Forever. There will be no second deal made."

He had every intention of holding firm, told himself for the next few seconds that he would find another way if this didn't pan out, that--

One you betrayed was three times true!

The words rang in his ears, and there was a pang in his chest as the hooded figure began to turn away.

"Wait," he said quickly, "Wait. I'll take it. There--there will be no other changes?"

"None other, I assure you." they said, "Agree to this change three times, and what you ask for will be given."

"I agree," he said, and there was a feeling in his mind like a ram striking a castle gate.

"I agree," he said again, and the next moment a chill was running down his spine.

Last of all came a whisper--faint, feminine, pleading--don't do it.

He gulped, feeling his mouth to be suddenly dry.

No Moonshadow awaits me, he thought for a moment, And I will never see Sovngarde, either. What am I really losing?

"I agree."

The figure was gone, and in his own mind there was a rush, a flurry of activity, a ceaseless noise of bells--

Ah, Nerevar, we meet again! Bound together first by destiny, and now, by this curious arrangement.

Voryn's body stirred--coughed--struggled for breath--

Untethered by this mortal vessel.

"Nerevar!" Voryn called out, on seeing Sigurd's face. "What--"

"Voryn," Sigurd replied, his voice choked, "Is it--is it really you?"

"Yes, I...how did you--where ARE we--"

Sigurd did not reply. With words, anyway. He took his brother into a tight hug despite the whispering in his mind.

Voryn was home again.

[saintobio]

sincerely not. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, adultery, neglect, mentions of phobias, mentions of pregnancy, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, explicit smut, some heartaches

notes. 12.8k words. please proceed with proper caution! thanks so much bby risa for beta-ing @rinstars bae you’re my savior &&& @kazbrkker my love, ur reactions in the rough draft were fun to read tysm hhhh anyways enjoy everyone !! :D

series masterlist -> episode nine

Flying to French Polynesia was a disaster.

You knew it even before you actually arrived at Bora Bora while flying through Gojou’s private jet and spending the worst twelve hours of your life imprisoned in an aircraft 35,000 feet from the ground. It wasn’t the jet lag nor the turbulence that made you wish that you didn’t go, it was the two specific passengers inside the plane that caused your silence for the last seven hours since you left Tokyo.

Sera was clearly not informed of your participation in their special getaway because her wide, gaping eyes stared at you questioningly as soon as she saw you coming out of the McLaren before climbing up the jet. In spite of her initial reaction, she was fast to veil her displeasure by sending you a welcoming smile. A smile that feigned innocence lasting for five seconds before she walked past you along the aisle, hand in hand with the husband that placed his wife in the same enclosed space as his mistress.

Satoru had noticed the shift in your emotions for the past week where he wouldn’t stop checking if you were alright and if something was plaguing your mind. He came home from work earlier than he usually did to make sure that you had dinner together, but most of those nights had passed in silence with neither of you having the backbone to address the elephant in the room. No, there was no elephant to blame for your marital quagmire. Just a broken wife trying to study the behavioral patterns of her husband for being affectionate and loving once, then detached and distracted the next. You could not tell him that you had seen him tracking Sera’s cycle on his phone, but you doubted that he would care enough that it shattered your heart to pieces thinking about how actively intimate they have been behind your back. It was already unbearable to see her intimate photos on his phone, but to also see how your husband was constantly monitoring her ovulation was just the absolute zenith of your agony.

Gojou had no idea how much he would completely annihilate your heart and soul if he truly ended up getting his mistress pregnant. Whether that was his intention or not, you could no longer find an excuse to stay with him if it happened.

Why has your marriage turned into shambles in less than a year? What did you do to deserve this mess of a relationship when you have always been genuine from the very beginning?

Despite life’s vicissitudes, you chose to see color in your achromatic world. It was your only way of keeping your positivity because you would rather be a sunshine than a storm. Satoru would have it coming one day, but today just wasn’t it.

You were becoming blasé to his brazen display of infidelity to the point that you were simply letting him do what he wanted without so much of a complaint. It wasn’t a free pass to step on your dignity, rather, a reason to pile up all the dirt that you have received like how a lawyer would gather evidence prior to actioning a case. You weren’t a lawyer for sure, but you could use the same tactic before reacting unreasonably. You had to hold onto your last string of pride in order not to become more pathetic than you already appeared to be.

It was better to pretend that everything was fine instead of showing your weakness in front of him. It was better to avoid his line of sight, choosing to join his best friends in playing a game of cards than be the third wheel in an unlawful relationship that made you the villain.

There was unease in Ieiri’s eyes as she laid down her card, pressing her boysenberry lips together when she glanced at the couple from the farther side of the plane. You couldn’t make out what she was seeing because you were facing her in a seating arrangement that had your back turned against your husband. Getou, who was sitting next to you, could sense the tension when he peeked at what was behind for a split second.

Why, you could ask yourself, did you even come? The question should be: why not? Even if he didn’t admit it, Satoru clearly wanted to make use of you by asking you to join the trip so that no one would suspect him of his true nature as an adulterous 25 year-old man. In return, you wanted to make use of this trip as an ultimatum for your consistency as the perpetually sympathetic wife. This trip would be the deciding factor for you to open your eyes to the downfall of your marriage.

You had become a time bomb—ready to detonate everything else around you with one wrong move.

You didn’t really believe your husband’s words when he said that he wanted to enjoy Bora Bora with you because only a person with thick skin could try to cajole his wife to his advantage. None of this trip was planned for you, but for Sera. Even if he said otherwise.

“Man, I don’t feel too good about this trip,” said Suguru, arranging the deck of cards to play another round of poker with Shoko. You tried to focus on drawing the details of the dress that you were designing until he spoke again. “Feel like something bad’s gonna happen.”

A pensive sigh then escaped your lips as you momentarily looked at the window to see the fuliginous skies. If Getou could sense an omen of things to come, you tried to lift up the mood by offering a smile. “You guys say this is a yearly trip?” you began, putting down your iPad and pen. “How did it all start?”

Ieiri took the chance to answer. “Like maybe four years ago? It’s pretty funny ‘cause it was a last minute thing. We were at a cafe and Gojou was joking about flying to Bora Bora right after he saw the advertisement on a pamphlet,” she reminisced the memory with glee in her eyes, “then Suguru dared him to take us there, and that motherfucker really did! We didn’t even get to pack anything—he made us ride the PJ on the same day with nothing but our passports.”

“I remember that day. He’s a bit of a show off, isn’t he?” Getou grinned at you and Ieiri.

You tell me. It seemed that Satoru could always make things happen if he wanted to. “The first time sounds really fun and spontaneous,” you claimed, drinking from the glass of wine on your table. “Satoru spoils the people that he loves.”

With that being said, he loved his best friends as much as he loved Sera. They were the only ones he would willingly spend a fortune to just to guarantee their happiness. Unfortunately, the man didn’t include you in his personal guest list of the people that he genuinely loved. Regardless of the fact that you were his wife, you were already aware that he would never willingly spend time with you. Iceland was out of the question because that whole honeymoon trip was simply obligatory for him.

“Aww. Well, I know he’ll spoil you.” Shoko's statement was laced with an iota of pity. “Satoru’s just… if you give him some time.”

You had given enough, but there was a limit to everything. You could offer your whole universe and there still wouldn’t be a remedy to your failed marriage. How pathetic. For a moment, your eyes dropped down to the gold band around your finger and remembered that Satoru strangely wore his ring when you left the penthouse. What act was he trying to pull this time?

And within the next twenty minutes that passed, you happened to have seen your husband when you went out of the lavatory for a quick bathroom break. He was in a detached recliner seat, draped in a blanket with his arms tightly wrapped around Sera as they slept soundly through the flight. The sight brought a lingering sting to your heart and made you stagnant for a moment as you walked slowly past the aisle. You tried to ignore the gnawing ache that burned your chest until Satoru opened his eyes to see you the first thing.

“Y/N.” His call forced you to halt from your footsteps. Sera shifted from his embrace, eyes still shut as she snuggled on the crook of his neck. Satoru had a minute of panic that bathed in his eyes when he realized that your name unknowingly flew out of his mouth and now he was pretending that he actually forgot what he called you for. “Where are you sitting?”

You kept a stolid mien for your own sake. “With your friends.” Because my own husband chose to neglect his wife for his mistress.

Why did it even matter to him? Did he want you to sit with him and Sera so you could watch how caring and affectionate he was to her? Did he want you to juxtapose yourself from previously being on the receiving end of his skinship and now on the far side of it?

Before you knew it, your feet already carried you away while his eyes followed your trail as you continued walking, making a desperate attempt to avoid him by going back to where Shoko and Suguru were. The two friends had visible empathy on their faces when they looked at you knowing that you saw your husband and his mistress entangled on each other.

But for your sanity, you didn’t succumb to your weak feelings. “I’m back,” you put on your mask of cheerfulness.

Ieiri moved from her seat to give you space and it was too obvious not to notice how she was admiring your ability to remain strong in a situation where you should be broken. “Y/N, can I see your new designs? Mai would have geeked over them.”

“I was actually designing a new one for her and Maki,” you shared, grabbing your iPad and browsing through your collection. “I’m planning to have the dresses made when we get back to Japan then I’ll ask Toji to give it—” Shoot.

The last thing you should have done was to mention the man.

“Toji? As in Toji Zen’in?” Getou’s narrow eyes became surprisingly round. “You’re close with him?”

You let out an awkward laugh. “Kinda, but not really. He knows Gen pretty well, though.”

Suguru smirked in good humor. “Damn. Satoru’s not gonna be happy.”

Ieiri countered the guy’s words by voicing her own thoughts. “He’s literally playing house with Sera. Who cares if he isn’t happy?” You were surprised when she suddenly pulled both of your hands on top of the table and squeezed it in comfort. “Tell me honestly, how do you feel about this whole cheating thing?”

You held your breath. It was hard for you to open up because your marriage was a private affair, something that you wished for no one else to pry into. If only Shoko’s eyes weren’t filled with genuine concern, you wouldn’t have given her an honest answer. “I’m not happy with it,” you stated the obvious, following the slow rise and fall of your chest. “I’m just letting this happen because I have hopes that it’ll end someday.”

Getou looked down as if he was burdened with shame. “He really doesn’t deserve you, huh…”

“Y/N.” Ieiri leaned closer to gaze straight into your orbs. “End their affair after this trip. Don’t let it drag for too long. Satoru’s my friend, but I can’t stand what he’s doing. You should claim your right as his wife and fight for him.”

You opened your mouth to say something because you highly appreciated her encouragement for you to uphold your position as the lawful wife, but then no words have left your lips after you remembered why everything ended up this way in the first place.

Because of this arranged marriage, Satoru had to marry another woman instead of the one that he loved. He wasn’t willing to let her go nor was she ready to free him from her grasp. This was all your fault, he said. Pay the repercussions, he said. You’re already blessed with everything you can ask for, she said.

What else was left for your self-worth?

With it being your first time in Bora Bora, it was expected for you to be in complete awe when you arrived at the destination. You couldn’t express much of your appreciation towards the beautiful islets due to the situation relating to your husband and his mistress, but your eyes still wandered around the place to admire God’s craft in creating such a paradise on Earth. Being here alone was already a testament to how many gorgeous places were yet to be explored.

“Wow,” you gasped with great admiration, turning your head from left to right as you took slow strides on the elevated walkway. For what Bora Bora was renowned for, there were bungalows perched over the crystal waters on stilts—a peaceful haven with floating thatched-roof villas above the clear sea in varying hues of blue, perfect for couples in a romantic honeymoon to enjoy their first stages of marriage.

The warm breeze and the smell of fresh ocean greeted your nose, tempting you to jump on the waters to bask under the sun. But then you remembered who you were with on this trip after getting momentarily lost and distracted from the luxurious oasis through the summer heat. As you turned around, you saw Gojou intertwining his hand with Sera’s as she smiled at him while gushing about how much she missed the place. You could see how his eyes coruscated with love at the sight of her radiant face as though she was the only one who could make him as happy as he was now.

Satoru’s affections were only evanescent when it came to you. Sera was and would always be the recipient of his permanent love.

You had to force yourself to look away knowing that it would only add more wounds to your heart—grateful that Shoko looped her arm around yours with Suguru standing on your other side. “You guys,” you swallowed your weakness back in by plastering a smile, “this island is stunning.”

“Right?” Ieiri adjusted her sun hat and nudged you on the rib. “Should we go scuba diving?”

“Jet skiing is better.” You weren’t expecting Satoru to chime in as he and Sera stopped in front of you like a newlywed couple who couldn’t get enough of each other. And while he was holding another woman’s hand, his vivid cerulean eyes lingered on you as he spoke again. “Ever tried it before?”

You didn’t answer him. You refused to. Instead, you looked at Suguru and pointed towards the parasail from a distance. “Look, it’s what you and Shoko were talking about on the plane.”

The tension was real when you ignored your husband, but Ieiri and Getou saved the awkward air by entertaining you, although you certainly didn’t miss the glances that they traded with the white-haired man. It was Satoru’s best man who put a friendly arm around your shoulder and continued the walk with you. “You should try parasailing with us,” Getou encouraged, orbs hidden from the crescents of his eyes.

You would love to join them, but the thought of ending up submerged underwater in the vastness of the ocean was too terrifying. “I don’t think I can—”

“Mr. and Mrs. Gojou? Welcome to the InterContinental.”

Instinctively, you turned around to face the owner of the voice only to see the man—who looked like the owner of the luxury hotel—was talking to Satoru and Sera as the apparent married couple. You tried to suppress the bitter scoff that almost passed through your lips because it surely sent tiny pricks to your chest to see Sera being mistaken as the wife.

However, instead of correcting the man, Sera got the confidence to tighten her hold on your husband’s arm so she could lean her head against him. “It’s nice to be back.”

“Well, I’d congratulate Mr. Gojou for marrying such a gorgeous wife,” the man complimented her, which earned you glances from Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. All except for Sera who beamed from the flattering remarks that should have been for you. “We’ve prepared the largest villa and the rooms are all ready as well. Please enjoy your stay. If you need anything, our staff will be more than happy to help.”

This was a painful slap to your face and you didn’t want to stay another second enduring it all. You haven’t even spent an hour in Bora Bora and you were already emotionally battered from everything that you’ve had to stomach thus far. You could only imagine how bad things would be for the next two days and this might end up leaving a huge scar on you, even worse than the Iceland trip which was the pinnacle of Satoru’s journey to putting you in your place.

You were already storming out before any of them made a move because you wanted nothing else but to lock yourself in a room and stay away from Gojou for the rest of the trip. You ignored Ieiri’s calls when you rushed inside the villa, claiming one of the four bedrooms and placing your duffel on the bed before you sat on the edge of it with a frustrated sigh. It was truly insulting to see your own husband not denying when another woman was mistaken as his wife, but what did you expect, really? He dreamed of having Sera as his wife for God knows how long. You already fooled yourself that one morning thinking that your recent lovemaking was a sign of progress to your relationship, that his drunken admissions and childhood reminiscences were improving your marriage—you hated that you fell for it when here he was now allowing Sera to take your spot as his wife.

There was no need to sugarcoat this. You were simply a placeholder for his true love.

You get it. This trip was all about her and you were just expected to be in the background all throughout. In that case, why did Satoru follow you inside your room? Why did he leave his stuff in your bed, crouching down to look at your face with worry-filled eyes?

Did he want to share a room with you because it was an obligation? Well, no one was watching for him to still keep up with his stupid act.

“You know I had no choice,” he tried to explain, placing his hands atop yours, “She was looking forward to the trip and I couldn’t tell her that it’s not right for her to come anymore.”

You gulped and pushed his hand away without sparing him a glance. “Why are you explaining things to me? Didn’t you wanna spend time with her, anyway?”

His bullshit was tiring. You knew for a fact that he could care less if Sera came because he would rather spend his sweet time with her, always have and always would. Unlike your honeymoon in Iceland where he was lackadaisical for ninety percent of the trip, he was actually more enthusiastic about this one because his romantic adventures were always better with Sera. He didn’t need to say it for you to put the puzzle pieces together.

Satoru fixed his composure, sliding his dark sunglasses out of his face as he tried to appear impassive. “Because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he asserted, arms caged on either side of your thighs, “and you’ve been so cold to me for the past week for no reason. What’s your problem?”

The audacity of this man. He would tell you not to get the wrong idea for ‘unintentionally inviting his mistress’ but would also shamelessly parade her around while treating her like a queen.

With this in mind, you erupted into a soft but spiteful laugh. “Does that even matter? You can do what you want. I’ll stay out of your way since I know my boundaries. I’m just here to save your image.”

“Y/N—”

Remembering the words he said during your time in Iceland, you returned it back. “Let me rest.” You pushed his arm away, climbing into your bed and turning your back on him. “I need some sleep.”

You already had your eyes closed when you heard his exasperated huff and you were left with a hollow heart when he slammed the door shut as if it was heavily frustrating for him that you were becoming detached and defiant. Satoru seemed to have always hated it when you rejected his presence because he had grown accustomed to you being his patient wife who showered him with affection despite his bare minimum treatment. The sweet and caring wife that would wake up at six-thirty in the morning every day just to prepare his breakfast and business attire. The wife that would leave post-it notes on the fridge with the words: Eat some fruit, drink water, and start your day with a smile :)

Yes. You wouldn’t deny how stupid you were for trying to make your marriage work. Because every time you believed that you had already built a strong wall against Satoru, he would always find a way to destroy it. And you would always find a way to let him in, forgiving him for his never-ending games.

You knew that you would always be standing by his side when he needed you, but since he didn’t seem to require much of your presence with Sera around, you might as well learn to distance yourself for now.

By ‘distancing yourself’, you meant sleeping for the next four hours to recover from your lassitude. You figured that it was better to shut yourself out instead of summoning your masochistic side when the pain was so deadly you might as well be buried six feet under. No one bothered you during your slumber because the villa was silent when you woke up again. The room needed more lighting as the sun was finally closing down by the time you opened your eyes. It was eventide, you realized.

When you regained the strength and motivation to get up from bed, you could tell that Ieiri and Getou might have toured around with Sera and Gojou while you were fast asleep in your room. They had fun on their own while you chose to be alone and only now did you have the chance to take a leisurely meander through the extensive walkway that connected all the overwater bungalows which were what Bora Bora was famous for.

The cool wind rippled the surface of the sea, creating waves and soothing sounds that enabled your mind to relax as you found your spot on one corner, overlooking the horizon of twilight skies in blue and gold where the clouds began to glow with colors at nautical dusk. You marveled at the spectacular mixture of colors as the wind that blew your hair back, listening to the soft sound of the crashing waves that made a painting come to life.

You had to appreciate Earth’s beauty and how grateful you were to be in a privileged position that gave you the chance to see such astounding views that you wouldn’t see on a typical day.

Perhaps, in an alternate universe, your husband had his arms wrapped around your waist as you two watched the sunset on this romantic hour. Maybe you were happy in that universe, having your spouse whisperering I love you’s in your ear, telling you that you were the only woman in his eyes and that he was happy to have married you.

“It must be tough chasing after a man who doesn’t love you.”

The serenity that you’ve found from the susurration of the sea was cut short as you turned around to see the Camilla of your Charles. Eyes as brown as the color of her hair, lips limned with a mulberry tint like the color that stained your husband’s neck. The upward tug of her lips was her attempt to show the lack of malice in her words.

“I can’t believe you’re torturing yourself for coming with us. But honestly, I respect and admire your resilience,” she added, clutching the diamond pendant on her necklace as she stood next to you. “I can understand you have all the time in the world to try and chase after his love since you have nothing going on for you. You’re not busy like the rest of us. All you do is sit at home like a princess and wait for him while he’s in his office spending most of his day with me.”

You wondered how Sera could look so sincere and innocent while throwing knives for sentences in between. It was plain obvious that she was still absurdly angry at you for sleeping with Satoru after she came to the penthouse that morning and your recent appearance in the office seemed to have fueled more of her vexation. But because you weren’t ill-bred, you didn’t lunge on her and ripped her throat out for saying all those mean things. Your best choice was to retaliate with your own words.

“Not as tough as constantly hiding your relationship because you don’t wanna be labeled as the mistress when that’s really what you are,” you told her, and there was shock that lingered in her eyes until you continued with a smile. “In everyone’s eyes, no one cares about who’s the first love. People care about who’s the one that they married.”

Sera’s smile was nonetheless to veil her growing ire. “Don’t get carried away. Your marriage is loveless. I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself when you know he feels miserable with you.”

When Ieiri told you to end their affair and stake your claim as the rightful wife, you already imagined that a confrontation with Sera could finally do the job. You thought that you could stand on your ground and hold your chin up high because that was how it was supposed to be, and yet with her simple utterance of the fact that Gojou was miserable with you, you lost all of your will to fight for him.

You couldn’t fight for someone who never wanted to be with you in the first place.

“I really like you as a person, Y/N.” She released a sigh, averting her eyes to gaze at the sun disappearing below the horizon. “You’re kind and soft-spoken. It’s your status and selfishness that I don’t like.”

With a still breath, you spoke through gritted teeth. “Selfish?” A humorless laugh followed. It was unbelievable how you were seen as ‘selfish’ when you’ve been willingly allowing her to sneak around with your husband after she literally begged for it.

“You get everything you want ‘cause you’ve been spoiled that way,” she pointed out. “Meanwhile, I have to work hard to get to where I am. I have to endure rude bosses, render overtime even on holidays, and strictly calculate my savings and budget for my family. You don’t understand how hard life is for people like us. Satoru is the only blessing I’ve received in life, so I’ll never let him go.”

You didn’t know what to say in this situation because you couldn’t exactly comment about her hardships in life. Even if you tried to defend yourself and tell her that problems in life came in different forms, you knew that she would still make it all about her. Everything was about her struggles and hardships, never about your agony and suffering.

However, the conversation did lead you to trespass a topic that had been bugging you to no end. “You say you’ll never let him go. Does that mean you’re still waiting around for him even when he’s married?” you questioned in utter disbelief. “You don’t care if you end up pregnant someday when he’s legally bound to his wife?”

Instead of answering you directly, she countered you with a question. “Are you scared that I’d get pregnant before you do?”

Your heart raced. Anger? Hurt? You couldn’t tell which one weighed more. So the two of them aren’t really doing it safe, you assumed in your head, taking a deep breath before you could explode.

A pitiful look appeared on her small, delicate face. “Just know that if I end up having his kid…” she paused before she shifted on her feet to take her leave, “…I’d end up having him, too.”

Gojou knew he could be insensitive sometimes—or most times—but he was being true when he said that he wasn’t intentionally doing it. He was all over Sera since the trip began because that was how things were before you came to the picture. Him, Sera, and his friends on a getaway. He held her hand, kissed her, and spent time with her because they were boyfriend and girlfriend before he ever married you.

With all the aforementioned, it was quite odd that he was feeling incredibly guilty for simply doing what he usually did. It wasn’t like you even screamed at his face calling him a cheater for having Sera around. You were pretty lenient about them so he couldn’t understand why he was the one who was bothered by your lack of resistance to his actions. Satoru despised how you would ignore him because he was getting more and more confused by how he felt.

To boost his stupidity even more, he never should have allowed Sera to join in the first place. This trip should have been just you, him, and his best friends. If he was going to spend time with Sera, then he could have just taken her without dragging you along to avoid all the tension that was surrounding you now. Maybe Satoru could have had more guts to explain that to Sera even if she wouldn’t be too happy to hear it.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, loosening the knot on his robe as he walked outside to find some peace of mind on the villa’s elevated pool area.

Suguru joined him as the man sat on one of the sun loungers with a cigarette between his lips. “You two-timing fucker,” he bluntly quipped, seemingly finding humor in Satoru’s dilemma. “How does it feel to have your wife and mistress in the same house?”

Gojou looked up at the blanket of stars. “Sera’s not a mistress,” he corrected, then added, “and Y/N isn’t even saying anything.”

There was a knowing glint in Getou’s eyes. “Just because she isn’t saying anything doesn’t mean it’s all okay to her.”

“Man. What do you want me to do?” He wasn’t exactly snapping. It just frustrated him how he didn’t know how to handle the situation without hurting the other. “I do wanna spend more time with my wife, but Sera expects me to be with her 24/7 because this is our only chance to freely be together.”

Suguru tossed the cigarette to the wooden floor and killed the ember by stomping his foot on it. “Listen to yourself,” he commanded. “Now Sera’s becoming an obligation for you and Y/N isn’t. You can’t have both. This situation isn’t livable.”

Did Gojou really sound that way? He couldn’t even clear out his statement because he got distracted when he saw you heading towards your room with a heavy frown on your face, determined to lock yourself again until Shoko blocked your way.

“Y/N, don’t tell me you’re gonna stay in bed again?” Ieiri’s voice was loud enough for the two gentlemen to hear. “Let’s chill outside for a while!”

Satoru could hear how his best friend snorted under his breath when he saw the look on Gojou’s face and just how tempted he was at trying to talk to his wife. Confusion clouded his head as he completely froze when Ieiri dragged you to the pool area and urged you to take your place near your husband.

“We went kayaking while you were sleeping. You should have been with us,” said Ieiri, now lighting her own cigarette as you stood at a reasonable distance from Gojou. He pulled you close by wrapping an arm around your waist, but you were fast to stop his wrist before you moved to sit next to Suguru instead.

What the hell?

And throughout your subtle disregard for Satoru, Getou was only finding the situation even more humorous. “You have to join us tomorrow, Y/N,” the best friend insisted. “Can’t miss out on all the fun activities.”

“I prefer sightseeing, really,” you admitted, then revealing why you couldn’t exactly join. “I have Thalassophobia.”

Shoko seemed intrigued. “Wait, like fear of water?”

“You’re not afraid of water. You swim at our pool back home.” Satoru walked towards the mini bar to grab a bottle of Macallan, pouring himself a glass before leaning against the rattan table.

You dismissed their assumptions, although you were gearing towards speaking to Getou and Ieiri more than your husband. “No, it’s fear of what lurks beneath its surface. It’s the deep bodies of water that scares me the most, like… if my feet can’t touch the ground, I’d tremble. I have wild imaginations on what creatures could be under me.”

Ieiri tilted her head in curiosity. “That’s so interesting. I didn’t know people have that kind of phobia.”

“Nah, I think it’s common,” Suguru asserted while leaning on the cushion behind him. “There are so many types of phobias that we don’t even know of. Someone could even invent Gojouphobia one day.”

The man of honorable mention simply shook his head. “Very funny.” Although he must admit, it was the first time he had seen you chuckling in a while and it brought some ease to his heart to see you smiling again.

For the whole conversation, Satoru just couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away from you. His blue orbs were glued on your face, watching the way you pressed your lips together or the way your eyelids fluttered with every blink. At one point, he had to clear his throat just to distract himself, “You weren’t that scared when you took a swim in the blue lagoon.”

Even if he was trying to converse with you, you were still adamant on not meeting his gaze. “Don’t you fucking bring up Iceland.”

It seemed that mentioning Iceland was a trigger for you and Satoru didn’t realize how upsetting the whole trip must have been that you were avoiding any reminiscence about your honeymoon. Had he been too mean to you back then? The marriage was fresh and Gojou was full of bitterness at the time—he must not have realized how harsh he had treated you.

Because of the uncomfortable silence, Shoko took the chance to change the topic. “I swear to God, I almost lost my diamond earring when Suguru pushed me to the ocean—”

“Alright, Kim K. There’s people that are dying,” Getou mocked, only to receive a ball of tissue thrown to his face.

“Shut up!”

“Make me.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Gojou sniggered at the two. “I think he is.”

And in the middle of their banter, Satoru had almost forgotten about Sera until she came out of the room in a similar robe like what he was wearing, joining the rest of you at the poolside on this starry evening. “Hey, guys.”

You didn’t even acknowledge her with a fake smile the way Shoko and Suguru did.

“Hey, Sera.” Ieiri shifted into an awkward stance and Gojou could read through her body language that Sera made her uncomfortable. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just took a quick shower.” Sera didn’t hesitate in keeping Satoru enveloped within her arms, clinging onto his torso as if to claim him in front of everyone. There was no ounce of shame when she tiptoed to peck his lips and leaned her head against his toned chest. She did it before, she did it many times prior to this trip, but why did Gojou feel strangely hurt when he saw how you sunk back to your seat and looked away? “Satoru promised we’ll spend the night at the jacuzzi.”

You let out a humorless laugh, gazing at the floor. “That’s really romantic.”

The sarcasm that laced your voice made Satoru hold his breath. What was he supposed to say?

“It really is,” cooed Sera, snuggling closer to feel his warmth. Utter silence dominated amongst the soft sound of the splashing waves. The luminescent moon stared at all five of you with great interest because there was nothing more interesting than to see a dramatic scene unfolding between the husband, the wife, and the mistress. Since when did Gojou’s life turn into a movie?

“I’m exhausted, I’ll call it a night,” you announced, taking the initiative to get up and leave. Not once did you try to meet Satoru’s gaze. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your exit gained Suguru and Shoko’s “me too” and “me three” as they also made a haste move to leave the couple alone. It was only 9PM and Gojou was sure as hell that none of his two best friends would have decided to go to bed this early if it wasn’t for the guilt that would eat them if they stayed.

Confrontations were not in your repertoire, but Satoru believed that it would have been better to receive your brutal words than to see you completely avoiding his existence like he was as invisible as air.

“Hey.” The knit on Sera’s brows recollected Satoru back to his reality—with her. She would never allow him to think of anyone else but her this time. “The night is ours.”

He didn’t want to break his promise and he tried his utmost best to give one hundred percent of his focus to the woman that he loved, especially now that he had the chance to be all alone with her. This was what he wanted and he had to remind himself of that. While he should’ve uninvited Sera, this was still the perfect chance to spend a romantic getaway with her at one of the most beautiful islands in the world. If the opportunity was there presenting itself, who was he to completely disregard it?

He wanted Sera, not you. He wanted all of her, not even a little bit of you. Satoru needed to wake up and refrain from allowing his mind to fly to the wife that he supposedly hated.

He should be having fun since it was relaxing to sit in a hot jacuzzi surrounded by vanilla-scented candles and rose petals. It was the perfect honeymoon for newlyweds, something that he could have done with you in Iceland instead of the bullshit he pulled back there that permanently left a scar on you.

Sighing, he leaned against the tub and waited for Sera to come back just as he received a notification from his phone. Without a second to spare, he grabbed the gadget that was placed at the edge of the tub and checked what the alert was about.

Day of Ovulation - High Chance of Pregnancy Today

But you just had yours a week ago, right? Gojou was well aware of your cycle because he would often check your phone to look at it. He didn’t even remember installing the app on his phone, so he had no single idea why it was even in there. Did he perhaps do it while he was drunk?

Somehow, his question was answered when he clicked on the notification and saw the label “Sera’s Cycle” written on top. The wideness of his eyes was solely because of his realization that this damn app might have been one of the reasons why you had veen cold to him.

“Sorry it took me so long.” Sera cut him out of his trance when she returned, quickly apologizing for her momentary absence. “I was trying to look for a nice swimsuit but couldn’t pick one.”

Satoru chose not to beat around the bush when he faced her. “Did you put your period tracker on my phone?”

By watching her emotions intently, he was able to see the look of panic that bathed her eyes before she gathered an honest response. “Yeah, since you’ve been acting all weird about the condom thing last time so I put it on there,” she explained, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Why? Did she see and complain about it?”

Fuck. Gojou needed to calm himself down because his head was boiling just like the foam that bubbled in the jetted-tub. “No, she didn’t say anything but she’s mad at me about it.”

“So, what?” Sera’s irritation grew while she undid the knot on her robe, revealing her stark naked body in front of him without any scintilla of shyness in her bones. Oh. Satoru breathed deeply and eyed every curve that was of ample proportions. “Why does it matter so much to you if she’s mad?”

She was already climbing in the tub, crawling forward to straddle the man’s lap who now had his large hands on her buttocks. He tried to look at her eyes instead of her busty chest. “I just don’t like how she’s giving me the cold shoulder. What if… our fathers’ notice?”

Bullshit. Sera rolled her eyes because she could see the pretentious lies hidden in his words. “Remember what you said to me back in your car?” The woman pressed her bare chest against his toned ones, feathering kisses along his jaw until her breath fanned his thin but plump lips as they brushed. “You said she doesn’t have you.”

“Mhm.” Gojou kneaded her bum.

“So stick by it,” now those words held more persuasion as her chocolate orbs pierced through his diamond blues. “It’s not like you’re gonna stay with her after you get what you need.” Right. You were merely a tool for his ascendancy in the company. Sera was the one who put him back on the right track. “And isn’t it weird enough that you’ve been trying so hard but still couldn’t get her pregnant? Maybe she’s… you know.”

Satoru pulled away to read her expression. “She’s what?” His wife couldn’t be infertile. No. Maybe he wasn’t really just doing it right? Maybe you just need to do it more intimately?

His other woman leaned back and moved her hair to the side in a manner that seduced him of his deepest desires. The palms that gripped her ass were now tracing her curves, reaching to cup her breasts so he could massage the rounded mass. He attached his mouth on the right side of her neck as she arched her back and released her dulcet moans.

“M-Maybe she’s n-not meant to have your baby,” she rasped, grabbing a fistful of white hair. “It’s been a while since we did this, Satoru.”

He hummed, closing his eyes and moving his mouth to kiss her shoulder blades. Despite Sera’s overflowing sultriness, Gojou’s carnal desires were no longer meeting her own. His ardor was no longer at the same level as hers. The emotional connection was no longer present and this was something that he had been afraid of for the longest time.

Afraid that when he started doing it with someone he married, he would lose the same passion for Sera.

If he was true to himself, she could not satiate his needs the same way you would. Sex was different, regardless of the labels, when it was with someone he shared vows with. With you, he could be intimate without worrying about the consequences of pregnancy because you were meant to have his child either way. With Sera, he had to hold back and use contraceptives because it would be a huge scandal if he knocked her up.

He didn’t realize that he stopped Sera’s hand from touching his clothed cock underwater, pulling her wrist before he made a move to get out of the jetted-tub. “Sera, I’m too exhausted,” he made an excuse, “let’s just go to bed.”

Satoru could imagine smoke coming out of her nose with how frustrated she was. “Just tell me. Am I not pretty enough for you?”

Grabbing her robe and stepping out of the tub, she sheathed herself with the cloth and let her glossy eyes afflict him with his guilt. After all, he could go weak on his knees for her.

“No, of course you are. I just don’t wanna do half-assed things with you.” Gojou was fast to deny. “Sera, you’re the prettiest woman in my eyes.”

Her face was rigid and her eyes were lachrymose. “Then say it to her.”

Huh? He brushed a hand on her arm. “Sera—”

“Say it straight to her face how I’m the prettiest in your eyes and that you’ll only ever love me,” she spat, stomping away after adding, “If you don’t do it, you might as well forget about me.”

Gojou hated being given ultimatums because it was putting him on the spot to make decisions without much thought. Sera was well aware of how much he disliked being demanded to do things out of his will, but like the asshole he was, he couldn’t lose her. That was what his mind was telling him.

He was plagued with these deep thoughts even as he joined Sera later that night when they slept in the same bed. This morning, he took his stuff to your bedroom because it became an instinct for him to stay in the same room as you. However, it was Sera who pulled him away telling him how ridiculous he was for even thinking that he should bother staying with you when no one was watching.

The problem was, Satoru couldn’t sleep. At all.

Sera’s warm body held him in a tight embrace as she peacefully submitted to her slumber, but Gojou couldn’t get even a wink of sleep because he knew that he would end up waking up in the middle of the night with how bad his nightmares were getting. This has happened more than once where he couldn’t get himself to reach the stages of REM when he slept next to Sera or anyone else for that matter. Heck, a paradoxical sleep was even more far-fetched when he was alone.

Because of his reasons, he quietly got out of bed at 3AM, tucking Sera under the duvet before he left the room only to transfer to the one on the opposite side.

To you, where he twisted the doorknob as quietly as he could and saw you sleeping in a cute fetal position, allowing him to smoothly slip into bed and wrap his arms around you. You were not awake to feel his warmth, but he was certainly feeling the level of comfort that he needed to finally doze off knowing that you were at arms length away lest he needed your presence to soothe him from his unpleasant dreams.

Getou would have snorted at his face for the ‘two-timing fucker’ that he was, but Gojou couldn’t care less. He didn’t understand what it was like to be caught in such a position.

When you woke up to see Satoru sleeping next to you, you felt disgusted.

Only because you knew what he had done in the other room with his mistress. You knew that they were doing it without any regard for the wife that he met at the altar with vows that he couldn’t fulfill. Why exactly was he even bothering to sleep in the same bed with you? For show? For whatever act he was putting on? You were tired of it.

So instead of waking him up with small kisses on his cheek, you simply rushed out of bed and spent the next thirty-minutes eating breakfast with Suguru and Shoko. Just after exchanging a few conversations about the plans that they had for the day, they then prepared while you ended up having a relaxing time for yourself, basking under the sun as you lay down on one of the sun loungers by the pool in your beige bikini. The view offered a gorgeous landscape of the clear turquoise seas and you knew that you just had to snap a quick photo to post on Instagram.

The picture included half of your glistening body in a sun-lounger overlooking the waters of Bora Bora with the caption: “pov: you’re in a tropical paradise 🏖”. The post quickly garnered likes and comments, especially one from Gen telling you to have a good time and that she was so jealous.

Have a good time? You wished. None of these people lurking in your Instagram knew that you weren’t actually having a great time. Worst of all, they weren’t aware that this trip included your husband's mistress.

On the other hand, you were surprised to see Toji’s comment that it had you chuckling out loud. It was no more than a playful message with an airplane emoji that wrote, ‘✈️ off to paradise’. You didn’t even know that he was following your account until now so you had to click the follow button real quick while stalking his Instagram. There wasn’t anything much to see except some pictures of him and his son traveling around the world. It was clear how much time he had placed to bond with Megumi despite his demanding life as a CEO, making it one of the things that you admire about him—his dedication as a businessman and as a single father.

Your day was going good, but it just had to be ruined when Gojou appeared on your side, taking a seat on the sun lounger adjacent to yours as he grabbed the bottle of sunscreen on your thigh. In an instant, you placed your phone down and looked at him. “Why are you here?”

“Why not?” His response was laced with insouciance. Your husband rubbed the lotion on his arms, protecting himself from the damage that the sun could leave on his fair skin.

“You should be with Sera,” you replied before removing your sunglasses, getting up to leave until he towered over you. At once, the man was unbuttoning his top and holding your wrist simultaneously. “What are you doing?”

A sigh left his lips. “Swimming with you,” he said, then tossing his shirt onto the seat. “Come on. You said you’re scared of the ocean so I’ll swim with you.”

“Satoru, you don’t一”

There was not even a chance for you to resist because the man already carried you in his arms as you flailed when he walked towards the edge of the platform, climbing down the stairs and submerging both of you under the cool waters of the Bora Bora seas. The anxiety that coursed through your entire body made you wrap your legs around his waist because you couldn’t think of anything else but to try and get yourself to the surface.

“Hey, hey. Relax,” he reassured, caging you around his arm and allowing you to put your arms around his neck. “The water’s clear. No sharks here.”

The water was deeper than you could reach for sure, but since your husband was six foot tall, he was able to walk around. “B-Bring me back to the villa.”

Your muffled pleas were ignored when he swam further into the ocean, now floating from beneath his feet all while pressing his lips into your ear. “Give me a kiss and I will.”

You couldn’t deny that the request gave you a rush of dopamine, forcing your stomach to do somersaults because when Satoru was being sweet and affectionate, it was normally easy for you to give in. However, you have already learned not to let him intoxicate you with meaningless affection.

“No,” you rejected his offer, glaring at his ocean eyes that were of the same hue as the skies and seas alike.

There was a haze of frustration in his eyes before he did it upon himself to lean in and encase your lips around his, moving to lock them in a soft but passionate kiss. The movements of his mouth were in harmony to yours despite your initial refusal to let him plant even the quickest peck. Truth was, his kisses lessened your anxiety because it distracted you from your fear towards the deep bodies of water.

The feeling of his tongue rolling against yours, swirling around just as you breathed through each other’s mouth could have been enough to suffice the week's worth of resentment that you had towards him.

In the end, Gojou knew how to soften your heart.

“Still don’t wanna kiss me now?” He pulled away with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but that cocky visage was immediately replaced by his troubled expression. “We need to talk.”

About what? You clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He was your personal buoy in the vastness of the ocean and he knew that the dependency that you had for him now would soon reflect your relationship beyond the high seas. Satoru only wanted you to realize that you needed him just as much as he needed you. “My phone, I know you saw some things in there,” he opened up, treading water to stay afloat. “It’s not what you think. Sera and I haven’t done it since一”

“Stop,” you interrupted before he could finish his sentence. There was pain in your voice, pain that you concealed with ersatz indifference. “I don’t wanna hear what you two are doing. You’re disgusting.”

He was insane for thinking that it was okay for him to talk about his sex life with his mistress. Sometimes you wondered if Satoru’s obliviousness when it came to hurting your feelings was actually intentional. He hated you after all. That, or he was plain stupid.

“I’m just saying,” he defended, pressing his lips on your shoulder. “If that’s what upsets you, then…”

“...Then maybe don’t give me mixed signals?” you said, chest vibrating against his. “Maybe don’t confuse me with your affection because we both know you’re just acting? Didn’t you say that I would never be her? That it’s not cheating when I never had your heart in the first place?”

Your husband was at a loss of words. And you? You moved out of his grip regardless of the fear that consumed you when you rapidly swam your way to the ladder, climbing back into the villa and wrapping yourself with a towel to leave the man who incessantly called for your name.

“Y/N!”

You came across Sera about halfway into the bungalow, but ignored her presence by heading straight to Getou and Ieiri. The two had no idea about the cold exchange that you’ve just had with your husband一all they knew was that you were joining them for their itinerary of having lunch at Bloody Mary’s and going on a jet ski adventure throughout the afternoon.

“You ready?” Suguru asked when he saw you scrambling to put on a sundress on top of your bikini.

“Yeah,” you answered, glancing at Sera and Gojou who just reunited when he attempted to chase after you. He didn’t need to, not when his mistress was there to entertain him now. “Can it just be three of us?”

Your question must have sounded spiteful and Shoko clearly didn’t approve of how you were letting your husband have some private time with his lover, but based on your countenance, she supported your decision. “Sure, Y/N.” Ieiri turned to Gojou and Sera with a smile. “We’ll leave you guys for a while.”

Satoru couldn’t even enjoy this trip because all he did was to overthink about the shit that he was unknowingly doing to hurt you. It was too much for a person to absorb, but he tried to lay down the issues in his head so he could figure it all out. For starters, you were opening up about your displease towards his actions more and more these days as if you were on the brink of falling apart. In contrast to that was Gojou feeling less and less angry with you for the things that he normally would find irritating. He used to antagonize you for being clingy, now he couldn’t last a day without any form of interaction with you. He used to forget everything around him when there was Sera, but now his eyes were constantly searching for you.

He thought that all the sharp words that he once sputtered towards you were left forgotten at the back of your mind, which was why he was in complete discombobulation when you were reciting every single hurtful word that he ever said to you. How did you even remember his words back in Iceland? It seemed as if everything, since the very beginning of your marriage, had remarkably etched into your soul and inflicted you with great sorrow.

For hours, he couldn’t do anything but to check his phone to get his mind out of his ennui and Sera was growing deeply annoyed that he wasn’t very keen of doing their supposed snorkeling activity because he refused to leave the villa.

It was funny how he should be thankful that you had given him some time alone with Sera, but here he was displeased about it. What was going through his head? He needed some clarity.

When the sun was at least two hours shy from setting, Gojou headed to your room to find his charger as he scrolled through his phone. The first thing he did was to check the recent photos he had taken, sliding his thumb down to review all the other images that he was keeping in his album and realized that one particular photo was absent.

His bum fell at the edge of the mattress as he frantically searched all the other photo albums to find the only photo he had of you.

Sera’s appearance by the door could not even distract him from removing the crease between his eyebrows. “Satoru, are we not gonna—”

“Did you delete her photo?” he snapped, looking up to see her wide confused eyes. “First you installed that period tracker, now you deleted her photo.”

She was livid. His accusatory eyes brought a surge of ill feelings when she stepped in and denied his claims. “Why the hell would I delete her stupid photo?”

He huffed, feeling a fit of pique but choosing to let it go. “Forget it,” throwing his phone on the mattress, he collapsed against the cushion and stared at the ceiling. “What do you wanna do today?”

Wasn’t it too late to ask?

Somehow, while he was busy gazing up at the nipa palm leaves that decorated the roof of your bedroom, he heard a clutter of things falling onto the floor and he realized that it was your makeup bag that Sera had accidentally bumped into.

“What’s that?” he asked, propping himself with his elbows as she crouched down, blinking twice in the same second before erupting into a scoff.

“You say you had a hard time making a baby?” She stood straight with a mirthless smile, showing a blister of birth control pills in her hand that made Satoru sit up in confusion. “She’s taking pills.”

He snatched the blister pack that he almost crushed in his shaking hand as he clenched his jaws at the newfound information. There was nothing else to feel but fire. Fire of the worst kind, fire that would soon erupt into unforgiving flames that would burn you without an ounce of mercy.

“She really just wanted to ruin us, Satoru.”

You didn’t think that this day could be any better since it started awfully when your husband almost ruined it this morning. Fortunately, his two best friends were your saving grace that allowed you to enjoy the rest of the day even without his presence. You went on a decadent lunch at Bloody Mary’s, had a fun jet ski ride behind Ieiri, and also spent the afternoon heat sunbathing at the beach. The image did not leave your mind—the waves crashing onto the shore, snaking rivulets of water onto the pristine white sand, sun-bleached crystals burning the feet, the resplendent stretch of palm trees that gave the beach a tropical landscape.

Life was too beautiful to waste on a man who didn’t love you.

In the words of Ieiri, ‘either win him or lose him’. You were at a point where you could choose the latter because your kindness was nearing its limit. If he was choosing his mistress over you, notwithstanding the prior relations that they’ve had before your marriage, then it was futile to patiently wait for the day that they would end their affair.

Because God knows Satoru would never let her go.

At least you were opening your eyes to the truth. At least you were seeing some light to the darkness that enshrouded you. Taking a stroll on the walkway, it was cathartic to finally be alone in this late afternoon as you left Ieiri and Getou who both went scuba diving. You were fine walking alone by yourself, simply appreciating all of Bora Bora before you leave for Japan tomorrow.

In the middle of your peaceful walk, however, the six foot tall man with the mess of ivory hair and vivid cerulean eyes came stomping down your path with a scowl on his pretty face. He was shooting daggers with the way he glared at you and you could strangely sense an impending doom when he stopped in his tracks—no trace of benevolence in his stance.

You tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mash of a brain. “Satoru—”

“You’re so fucking desperate, are you?” His voice was rough and hostile, glaring at you as if he wanted to destroy you then and there. Before you could ask what he meant, he showed your birth control pills that he had already crumpled in his hand, rendering you speechless and static from where you stood. No, this can’t be… “What, you’re still gonna deny it?”

Guilt and tremor swallowed you. “I-I just couldn’t tell you at the right time.”

He was laughing, and it was a feral laugh that scared you even more. Minus the hands that were shaking in vexation, he was clearly seething inside. “You’re so fucking pathetic,” he spat out words laced with venom, “Did you plan to keep fooling me just so I’d have sex with you, huh? ‘Cause no one else would do it with you so you have to ruin me and Sera? You’re just so delusional, are you?”

Your hand almost flew to his face before you even realized what you did. The amalgam of pain, anger, and resentment was now being released from your bottle of emotions as you burst out crying. “H-How dare you! How fucking dare you say that to me!” You punched his chest with your fist as tears kept flooding your eyes, cascading down to your cheeks like waterfall. You could barely breathe from the tightness in your chest, you could barely see from the tears that blurred your vision. “Y-You don’t know what I have to endure just by staying with an asshole like you!”

“You deserve it,” he gritted, holding your wrist as you tried another failed attempt to swing your trembling fist on his chest. It was painful. Everything was painful. You knew he never regarded you as a real wife, but to tell you that you deserved every bit of agony was beyond heartless. Merciless. But even in your sobbing state, he didn’t hold back, “Why’d you hide that you don’t want a baby, then? You’re so scared that I’d stop fucking you?”

Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. “You decided upon yourself that you wanted a baby without asking me!” Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears. The searing ache that burned your skin was fatal to your heart, because at this point, your chest pains were only getting worse. “You want—you want a baby because it was your promise when you were six? Are you insane? You made vows with me on our wedding day and you already broke them! What m-makes you think I’d hold onto your meaningless childhood promises?”

While his nose flared with deep-seated rage, his eyes were now mirroring the pain in yours. You knew not to believe that he was hurt because Satoru Gojou was no more than a spineless soul. “Don’t say that I—”

“No, you don’t get to talk!” You pushed him despite the heavy flow of tears that gushed out of your eyes. Your chest heaved from the lack of oxygen as you weeped, but none of it stopped you from reaching your breaking point. Your husband could see it. He could see that you were about to explode in the most gut-wrenching sight possible. “Y-You… I hate you! You never t-try to see what it’s like for m-me! It’s always about you and Sera, always a-about your happiness and hers… What about me? When do I ever get to free myself from this pain? I’m so tired of having to keep it together for the sake of this marriage! Did you really wanna s-subject my child into the same pain that you were putting me through?” You took a momentary pause so you could allow yourself to breathe, flooded by the overwhelming amount of tears that you were releasing. “I don’t want my kid to grow up with a father that doesn’t value his own marriage! You’re so fucking selfish, you know? You’re so… It’s the first time I ever decided for myself, to not carry your child because I know that I won’t be able to stomach seeing my own flesh and blood growing up in the same household as you did!”

The minute of hesitation that went through Gojou’s mind was his slightest form of sympathy. He might have realized how you’ve been feeling all this time now that you were willingly spitting out words into his face, but for the most part, he didn’t say anything to defend himself. He only grabbed your arm, confusion contorting on his face because he wasn’t sure whether he should keep up with his anger or he should feel bad for hurting you.

Knowing Satoru, he would end up choosing the former. “I never wanted this marriage.”

“And nor did I!” Perhaps you have gone unhinged, but you were emitting tearful laughs while you sobbed. “You said I ruined it for you,” you began, “Don’t you think you ruined it for me, too? Don’t you think I wanted a happy marriage with a husband that loves me, cares for me, and treats me with respect? You disrespected me, took all of my firsts, and made fun of me! You made me feel like a mistress in my own home! I wanted a marriage that would make me happy!”

“Then why did you marry me in the first place!” he growled, loud and vehement. “It’s your fault for thinking that this goddamn marriage could ever work because it never will!”

You knew those facts. You knew that the marriage was never bound to work when his eyes were already all set on someone else. When his decision was already made up before you came into the picture. But what you didn’t and could never agree on was how he was putting the blame solely on your shoulders. “Stop making it seem like I placed you at gunpoint to marry me, Satoru!” you pushed him off and got out of his strong hold. “It’s a good thing that I’m not in love with you. It’s easier for me to leave because I don’t love you enough to stay! Maybe this is why your mom left you, and you know what? I’m glad that she did—”

“What did you say?” Gojou, disquieted by his rage, took a step closer with his clenched jaws and balled fists.

You didn’t mean that. You didn’t mean those stupid words that came out of your mouth because you saw the shock and outrage that flashed before your husband’s widened eyes. The way he held his breath was a sign of how his blood blazed with fire at your decision to bring up his mother because of all the things that you could spitefully say, hurting him with his past was the last thing you wanted.

“S-Satoru, I’m sorry—” Your eyes grew horrified, utterly stunned by the words that you said. You tried to reach for his arm but he was fast to swat it away, “I-I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

The next thing he did was what wrecked you the most because the man had no ounce of sympathy when he slid off his wedding ring and hurled it into the ocean.

“Satoru—!”

You couldn’t believe that he did that, but more importantly, you couldn’t accept how easy it was for him to throw your whole marriage away because you were never once accepted in his heart. In his life. In his soul.

“You wanna leave, then fucking leave. I don’t give a fuck anymore.” It was the last thing that your husband could say before he left you sobbing on your knees with a sore heart and tightened chest. You had to endure watching his figure fading slowly into view as you weeped and struggled to breathe, wanting to stop the pain that only heightened now that you were alone.

Alone was all you would ever be.

But seeing the ring on your finger, remembering how much you valued your marriage all while knowing that it didn’t mean anything much to your spouse, you didn’t think twice about jumping into the shallow waters of the sea. Your whole body quivered with the intensity of your fear, but you continued swimming to the same direction of where he threw the ring because, for your sanity, you had to find it.

You had to do everything to search for it—even if your eyes could barely discern the view underwater, even if the squeezing pain in your heart left you no room to breathe—you were determined to look for his wedding ring in exchange for the torment that destroyed your soul.

Unfortunately, you weren’t as physically capable as the emotional martyr that you believed you were. Because in the midst of swimming deeply into the sea, you were losing air to breathe and you were going farther from the light above the surface. The water blocked out any other noise from up above and you were a minute close to fainting until your body was pulled back with desperate force.

No, it wasn’t your husband. It was Getou who dragged your body out of the water and carried you back into the surface while you gasped and cried your heart out. Ieiri was right there to embrace you in her arms as you buried your face into her chest, bawling and clutching your chest with your inability to breathe. “Th-The ring. P-Please,” your muffled sobs couldn’t be stopped, “It h-hurts.”

“Shh. It’s okay,” Ieiri’s voice broke for you, especially when your hand violently trembled because not even them could save you from the agony that drowned you inside. “Getou’s gonna find it, I promise.”

You couldn’t see the look on their faces because your eyes were falling heavily, but you could feel Suguru’s large hand soothing your back to ease your cries. “Y/N, I’ll search for it. It’s okay.”

I wanna die. You lost the will to carry on because you were at the apex of your pain—the summit of your agony that you could no longer proceed with life knowing that it was never bound to be better. I should just die.

Ironically, it was the last bit of memory that you could remember before the darkness temporarily shut you out from the universe’s never-ending cruelty.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

To say that he was frustrated was an understatement.

The level of anger that entered his entire body after he heard your hurtful words surpassed the twenty-five years worth of rancor that he had for his father.

Gojou wanted to hurt you, ruin you, do everything he can to spite you.

Who the fuck were you to say that he deserved to be abandoned by his mother?

It was his ill-feelings that led him back to Sera’s room, pushing her against the wall, and slamming his lips against hers for a harsh kiss. There was no passion, only roughness in his actions. Sera mistook his rage for eagerness because she allowed him to pull her hair and deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside her mouth that there was not enough breathing space for them both.

And at some point, he had her completely stripped off in bed. He had her in a position where her ass was up high and her face was down low. He wasn’t thinking right when he rammed his unprotected cock inside of her cunt, fucking her raw and earning her loudest mewls to cry out from his hard thrusts.

He held her hips close to his crotch as he jostled her body from the back, penetrating her core with low grunts leaving his lips while he spent the next few minutes remembering how you mentioned that you didn’t love him enough to stay and how you didn’t want him to be the father of your child.

Good for you, he laughed in his head because he was pissed. He was too clouded by wrath that he was treating Sera like a whore, rutting his hardened cock into her with forceful movements that made her knees shake.

“S-Satoru—!” Her whimpers were sensual albeit the lack of intimacy on his part. “J-Just like that!”

Fuck. Fuck, he wanted to break you. He thought of all the possible things he could do just to make you regret what you said. And if it was to have sex with Sera without any caution for a possible baby that could grow in her womb after this, he would do it.

Or at least, he was only consumed by spite when he did do it. He already released thick ropes of cum when he woke up to his senses and realized what he had done, immediately pulling himself out of Sera’s cunt to ejaculate the rest of his seed out of her.

What the hell was he thinking?!

Underneath him was a smiling and panting Sera who wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss his lips softly. “I love you.”

He wasn’t in the right mind to respond, and it was a terrible time for Getou to slam his fist on the door, demanding his best friend to get out.

“Get the fuck outta there, Satoru!”

Sera was dumbfounded at the scene, especially when her boyfriend was scrambling to put his pants on before he rushed out of the room.

Suguru’s eyes were filled with disgust when Gojou walked out, only to be grabbed by his shirt as his best friend violently shook the tiniest trace of guilt that was left inside of him.

“How can you behave this way in front of your wife?!” Getou yelling at his face wasn’t new, what was new was the reason why he was screaming at him. “I only tolerated you because you asked for my help, not because I support all the shit that you’re doing! I didn’t wanna meddle into your business ‘cause it’s not my marriage, but I can’t stand this anymore.”

Satoru raked his fingers through his white hair in frustration. “I’m in a tough spot!”

Getou was certainly not buying his excuses anymore. “You’re becoming like the person you hate the most,” he claimed, and Gojou was shaking his head in absolute denial. “Just leave her if you can’t love her. She deserves better.”

His wife. What did Satoru just do to his wife back there?

“Wh-Where’s she—where’s Y/N?” He was becoming frantic as he remembered how much you cried after he left. Only now did his conscience tug at him regretfully.

“She passed out from crying.” Suguru let out a sigh of exasperation. “Ieiri doesn’t want you anywhere near Y/N.”

“But—”

“Don’t push it,” his best friend couldn’t even look him in the eye. “You already lost her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[hwanchaesong]

AAAAAA I love ur writing so much and here I am now requesting another story from you :D

The song is Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran and the member is Yunho. I want it to be fluff as always with a bit of angst in the story but mostly fluff HEHE. Thank you for always making good stories!!! 🙆🏻‍♀️🤍

a/n: oohhh thank you so much for requesting and goshh, your compliments 🙈🥺 (ur making me soft pls-)

👤: ATEEZ Jeong Yunho

📼: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift & Ed Sheeran

genre & warnings: fluff, slight angst, university au, mentions of cheating and break-up, strangers to lovers

word count: 759

Gloomy, dark, and cold.

That is how Yunho's morning started.

He woke up with a message from his ex, saying that she'll get her remaining items in his apartment by today when he's out for school.

He ignored that, paying attention to his schedule for today instead.

He really couldn't care less about his ex. The fire has been out for a while, what devastated him is the fact that she cheated on him without even ending the relationship.

He couldn't take the disrespect she gave him.

Yunho's day was stale. All the mundane shenanigans were done. Quizzes, homework, lectures, it's boring.

He couldn't help the sigh that came out his lips when it started raining just after dismissal. Blankly staring ahead and getting ready to go home.

"How much worse this could get?" he whispered to no one in particular, about to step out in the downpour but was stopped when a hand took a hold of his arm.

"Hello. Um, excuse me? Would you mind if I ask you to share your umbrella with me?"

A small voice was heard, and when he looked beside him, he felt all the air in his lungs get knocked out.

There you stood timidly, a shy smile and hopeful expression on your face.

No, he doesn't mind sharing an umbrella but he does mind the fact that you made his mind go haywire.

"What?" he asked, dazed and out of it due to the ongoing turbulence in his heart and soul.

"Well, I forgot mine and I didn't know it would rain." you explained, watching him process your words.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, sure. Here." Yunho offered a space under his umbrella that you gratefully accepted.

Walking under the torrent of rain with you is unusually comfortable despite the silence, sooner or later you chose to break it.

"If it's okay with you, could you drop me at the nearest café?"

You craned your neck upwards, only realizing by now how tall the man is.

"That's fine by me." he looked down at you, a charming smile adorning his face.

Now you see how handsome he is.

His chocolate orbs are large, tall nose and pretty pink lips.

Oh shoot, this man is gorgeous.

You blinked, "Okay!"

Your sudden outburst startled him, "Oops, sorry. I mean, thank you."

Yunho found that adorable. He doesn't know you, not even familiar yet something about you is enchanting in a way that gets him all giddy inside.

A few minutes passed and a place for you to stop by has appeared within sight.

"There!" you pointed which Yunho quickly followed.

Stepping foot under the roof just outside the building, you thanked him and is about to go inside but he stopped you from doing so.

"Wait!"

You turned around, gazing at him curiously, "Why?"

He walked closer to you, folding his umbrella and opening the door for you to come in.

"I'll spend some time here too.... with you."

Your heart started to race at his statement. It even went up when you noticed his appearance.

Wet patch on his right shoulder, or should you say that his whole right side is drenched. (such a gentleman please)

How come that a stranger is making you flustered like a young girl in love with a boy who's good at building sandcastles?

"That's fine." your eyes shifted down at the floor, quickly entering the place, ordering your drink and sitting in a booth.

You were surprised once again when he sat right across from you, holding his own cup of coffee.

"I never got your name." he mused, looking at you intently.

"Right." you cleared your throat, "It's Y/N."

He hummed, "Well, Y/N, my name is Yunho." he replied, holding his hand out for you to shake, and when you accepted it, an electrifying feeling coursed through your veins.

"I think," Yunho bit his lower lip, an action that your eyes closely followed, "we should come here again tomorrow. It's Saturday, we could hang out. As friends."

He doesn't know why he's saying that. You don't know why you quickly accepted as well.

What the both of you know though, is something will change.

Under the orange lights, smell of coffee beans and the sound of the pelting rain, blurred beyond those is your own world.

A dream that you two belong to and surely by tomorrow, when your eyelids flutter, the immediate thing that'll come in your mind is that person.

The person who will create a storm of flowers and grace in your life.

[lavenderjacobs]

fluff alphabet - Sapnap

➳ wc; 2,1K (she’s a long one lol)  ➳ pronouns; gender neutral<3 ➳ song reccomendation; heart eyes - coin

A=Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a partner?)

nick’s an ass guy and you can’t convince me otherwise. he’s also just loves your thighs and your stomach. he loves how soft your skin is, and how good you smell. whenever he’s sad he just rests his head on your stomach while you tangle you fingers in his hair. 

B=Best memory (Their favourite memory of you)

he cherishes your first kiss so much. he just has such a soft spot for that memory. the moment he finally found out you felt the same about him, the moment he finally found out what your lips against his felt like. it’s just something he had looked forward to for forever, and to him, it was perfect. 

C=Cuddles  (What type of cuddles do they like?)

sapnap is a WHORE for cuddles. if it where up to him, you two would just lay in bed all day, tangled in each other’s arms. after a long day, he just wants to hold his favourite person and fall asleep with them, so he just wraps his arms around your waist while he uses your chest as a pillow. but if he’s in a chatty mood, he’ll just talk your ears off, ranting about something he finds interesting, while you’re all snuggled up in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

D=Dirty mind (Do they have a dirty mind?)

I mean, come on. it’s sapnap. we all know he does. he gets *excited* very easily, which can sometimes get in the way when you two are just trying to cuddle. he just has such a soft spot for your body and has to have his way with you once certain ideas have entered his mind. 

E=Effort (How much effort do they put in the relationship?)

nick would definitely try his best. honestly you don't care if his plans actually turn out the way he intented them to, it's the thought that counts. and nick knows that. but theres just something about you that makes him want to spoil you and treat you like a princess. so prepare yourself for fancy dates, him making you your favorite food, all that type of stuff.

F=First date (What was your first date together)

arcade date arcade date arcade date. sap is super competitive and I feel like he would thrive in an arcade. he would play it off like he was just trying to proof how good he was at the arcade games. but he'd just love to see how hard you would be trying to beat him. obviously he'd let you win a lot, and when he collected enough tickets, he would get you the biggest prize he could find.

G=Gentle (How gentle are they with you?)

it....depends???? lmao. nick CAN be super gentle with you, he’s pretty protective of you and would never want you to get hurt, so he’s definitely very careful not to do anything to hurt you. but sometimes his instinct just kinda takes over and well, he can get pretty rough. 

H=Hands (Do they have nice hands?)

hmmm nick has like,,very manly hands,, if you know what i mean. i dont know, they're just so rough but yet so pretty??? and they're like really big compared to yours so when he holds ur hand, yours looks so tiny in his. and omg he won't shut up about it. "LOOK AT YOUR HANDS THEY'RE SO SMALL🥺"

I=Impression (What was their first impression?)

he just thought you were so ~cool~. like he immediately knew he wanted to be your friend. he was just so in awe of how funny, chill and charismatic you were. and it literally took two days for him to develop a crush on you. his friends would notice this right away and tease him about it so much omg.

J=Jealousy (Do they get jealous often? If so what do they do?)

YUP. nick gets jealous so easy yup yup yup. jealousy, protectiveness, possessiveness, you name it. you two would often get in fights about this, but most of the time you would just think it’s cute how riled up he gets. he doesn’t get mad at you (because you’re his precious little baby and can do no wrong in his eyes :D) but god help the souls of whoever tries to flirt with you, because they’ve got a hell of a storm coming.

K=Kisses (What type of kisses do they like/give?)

god nick’s such a passionate kisser. or at least he can be lol. he loves the way your face fits into his hands, and how soft your lips are. so he definitely is a fan of just some wholesome passionate kisses. but damn this man gets sloppy when he wants to. his lips constantly trails off to your jaw, neck and collar bones.

L=Love  (Do they show their love?)

i feel like his love language would be like a mix between words of affection and physical touch??? he’s definitely very verbal with his love for you. he doesn’t shy away from saying i love you or letting you know how much he appreciates you in any other way.

M=Memory: (Their favourite memory in general?)

there are certain moments where nick just sits back, watches, and realizes how amazing his life is. and how grateful he is to have you. for example, you were playing minecraft on his pc, and your house kept getting blown up by creepers, he found it adorable how mad you got every time. he just watched you play, while sitting on his bed. after a while, you looked over at him, and caught him staring. “what?” you asked after letting out a soft chuckle. he felt like he was gonna explode from how much he loved you. 

N=Nickname  (What nicknames do they call you?)  

i’m getting very strong “baby” and “doll” vibes from nick. he loves baby-ing you and smothering you with other loving nicknames. just any petnames that show how much he loves you he’s all for. he would also love calling you “pretty” or “beautiful” for obvious reasons. 

O=Over  (What happened the one time you ‘broke up’?)

nick HATES fighting with you, but once you two get into an argument he can get pretty carried away. he’s definitely the type to let his emotions get the upper hand on him. raising his voice a lot, stuff like that. but the second you leave to get some space he just breaks down. sliding down the wall and resting his face in his hands, just letting all the emotions out. he never meant to hurt you. when you came back to him, ready to be enclosed in his arms again, he had a hard time letting you back in. he just felt like he didn’t deserve you after he treated you like this. it took some convincing, but once you broke down his walls again, it was like he gave you all the love in his body. just smothering you with “i’m sorry”s and kisses. 

P=Parents (What would they be like as a parent?)

dilfnap dilfnap dilfnap  omg he’d be such a good dad. like just very caring and loving, but also strict and stern when he needs to be. he’d constantly be telling stories to the kids about the absurd adventures him and his friends would get into, and omg the dad jokes he’d make. idk maybe it’s my daddy issues but dad sapnap lives in my mind rent free. 

Q=Quirk (Something special about them)

he loves holding your hand. especially in public. if you’re in a crowded space, he just holds onto you very tightly as not to lose you. or if you two are just going on a walk together, his hands would just feel so warm and soft around yours. and omg he loves it when his hands are in his pockets, and you put your hands in there with him, and intertwine your fingers with his. hmmm he gets so soft when you do that.

R=Romantic (How romantic are they?)

i- uh- I MEAN HE WOULD TRY he really would, and again, that’s all that matters. I feel like he would be the type to try to prepare a whole surprise dinner, he would cook all the food himself, he would set the table all cute, with candles and shit, but just completely ruin the surprise by accidentally giving it all away by saying something or just behaving very obviously suspicious. 

S=Sad (What are they like when they’re sad?)

he just gets really quiet. he would never want to bother you or be a pain in the ass by complaining to you. but obviously you notice when something is wrong with ur bby boy. a sentence like “are you okay?” or “what’s wrong?” would immediately send him over the edge, burying his face in your chest, trying his best to supress his sobs. but he eventually calms down, and once he does, he’s able to just rant to you about whatever is bothering him.

T=Together (What are they like when you’re together?)

i feel like it would really depend on his mood, like he could be either SUPER chill, just wanting to savour the time you two had together. or he could be really hyper, constantly talking, wanting to do all kinds of activities with you. he’d be the literal definition of :D

U=Understanding (How understanding and empathetic are they?)

very. i just get such empathetic vibes from him. he’s such a good listener and he’ll just listen to you talk whenever you have something to be upset about. he never invalidates your feelings and omg he’d give the best advice. 

V=Value (What do they value most about the relationship?)

he loves that he can 100% be his self around you. there’s no part of his personality that he feels like he has to hide, or tone down, whenever he’s with you. you also aspire him to be his best self, he just wants to be the best boyfriend in the world. all his friends have noticed this too, you bring out the best in him.

W=Wedding (Would they want marriage? If so what would they like?)

eh. if you’re a person who really values marriage, he’d 100% do it for you. but it’s not like he HAS to. he gets a bit scared by the idea of this whole big event, where everything is about you two, he would way rather celebrate the love you two have in the comfort of your own home, just the two of you. the one thing he would love about a wedding, would be seeing you all dolled up, walking down the aisle, omg he’d be the proudest man ever to be able to call you his.

X=X-Ray (How well can they read you?)

the SECOND you start to feel sad or depressed in any way, nick notices immediately. he knows you better than anybody else, and he knows exactly what to do to cheer you up. it’s like his superpower. if you’re feeling anxious he’ll just wrap his arms around you really tightly, holding on to you until you calm down. and when you’re sad, and in need for something to cheer you up, he’ll take you outside for a walk in the park, or he’ll just sit in bed with you, watching your favourite show. 

Y=Yuck (What they would never want in a partner)

he hates when you flirt with his friend, even when you’re very obviously joking. his jealous ass can’t deal with that lmao. he also gets super pissed when his friends make flirtatious jokes towards you, they know how much it gets on his nerves and that’s really the only reason they do it. but omg he gets so pissed when it happens. 

Zzz (How do they sleep around you?)

nick would be the cutest sleeper ever omg. he doesn’t like to admit it, but he loves being little spoon. he loves resting his head on your chest, while you play with his hair, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep. 

[yourmcu]

Mesmerized (ii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax​ said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,551

A/n: basically a day out with Natasha. you like having her around. she likes having you around. Part 2/? (more notes at the end of the fic!)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but ending’s pretty angsty (help), some thor fluff in the beginning, jealous!nat if you squint

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

gif not mine!! credits to the owner^^

After Natasha left your room she immediately goes straight to hers. She barely falls asleep.

She stares at the ceiling, absorbed in her own thoughts. She tries to shake away the heat rushing to her face whenever the moment you kissed her on the cheek replays on her mind. All it took is someone like you to get one of the toughest people in the compound turn into mush.

She never believes in the ‘love at first sight’ bullshit because, well, it is bullshit. It’s impossible to love someone you just met. But who knows, right? You might just be an exception.

No, Natasha frowns. I just like her... a lot. It’s different.

The next morning, her run consists of her planning out the date day with you, where she’d take you first and stuff. She stops by the front gate of the compound, suddenly worrying. She wants to impress you. But what if you don’t like what she had in store? What if you think she's boring?

You're the type of person that almost likes everything and you’d express it kindly if you don’t. Boring you should be the last thing on Natasha’s mind.

Natasha walks into the kitchen to hydrate herself but halts once she saw the mess you and Thor had all over the counters.

“Wait, hold on- no, that’s - oh god, Thor, that’s too much batter!” You smack him on the arm and laugh, tilting your head a bit to figure out how you’d get the large pancake out of the pan.

“Oops,” Thor says sheepishly, turning around to put the bowl back on the counter, noticing Natasha’s confusion. “Oh don’t worry, Natasha, we’ll clean up after we’re done.”

The mention of the redhead makes you turn as well. “Good morning, Nat.” You beam. Normally, Natasha would sent a glare to anyone who calls her that, someone who isn’t a close friend, but with you... instead of a glare her eyes light  up. Giving you a small smile, she greets you back.

“I thought you were going out?” She questions, passing by you to reach the fridge.

“We were, but IHOP’s closed, under maintenance they said,” Thor sighs and you hum in response. “It’s quite alright. I heard you guys are going out anyway-”

Natasha lowers the water bottle from her lips, staring at him. “You heard?”

You spin around to clean up after turning off the stove. ‘I didn’t tell him anything,’ you mouth to her, which makes her think Steve somehow knows of it already.

Thor lets out a laugh, grabbing the whole pan and twiddling his fork, “you two have fun.” He winks and walks out of the room.

-----

“They were so cute,” you look back at the newly engaged couple near the window of the restaurant. “And really, you didn’t have to pay. I can pay you back.”

Later that afternoon the both of you headed out. Natasha parked her car somewhere and since it was a nice day, not too hot or anything, you both strolled around the city to find a place to have brunch.

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m the one who asked you out.” Natasha chuckles, remembering the way you pouted in there begging her to let you pay at least for your own food.

You huff, smiling. “Fine. But I’m getting you back.”

So far you were having a good time with her. You got to know each other more, she told you stories about some of the team’s missions from other countries which were relatively rare, her first encounters with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, and in return you told her some about your out-of-this-world missions with the guardians.

And no you didn’t tell her about the history of moon rocks or some shit, nor did you promise to bring her back some. Who even collects those nowadays? Natasha was more interested about your early life, on Earth, which you were thankful for. You were taken away from your father (the only parent you preferred and loved) who was pure human one day by your alien-freak of a mother which you inherited your fire powers from.

You don’t like talking about it. But with her you're surprisingly comfortable.

Natasha smirks. “So we’re going out again sometime?”

“Of course we are.” After two seconds of pure confidence you wish you didn’t say that out loud. “Well, you know, I won’t force you to something you don’t want it’s - it’s your call.”

You're in the middle of telling her about your favorite bar and diner, the one your father always takes you as a child and you even paid a visit there the last time you were on Earth.

“Huh. Isn’t that the one that just closed?” She recalls

“No, really?” You drag out the ‘no’, sighing. “They’re the best. They make their own iced tea and beer and stuff... and - oh!”

You feel something rub against your ankle: a fluffy dog who's looking up at you with its tongue out and its tail was wagging wildly. Natasha raises her eyebrows, her eyes trailing to the abandoned leash behind it.

“Hey there,” you kneel down to pet it with caution just incase its intention is to bite you. But it seems to be happy and tame. “Look, Nat, s’adorable.” Natasha chuckles briefly and starts looking around for a person who looks frantic and is finding, calling a dog. 

“This fella belongs to the animal center.” You caress the dog behind its ear while you read the information on its collar.

It isn’t that far, it seems like the dog just escaped as well because the guy running the center was unaware of its absence.

“Thanks!” Said guy smiles in appreciation, reaching out to take the leash out of your hand. Natasha’s mind is focused on how the guy looks at you for the first time. It's the exact same look she gave you that night. Mesmerized, as if it was love at first sight. She doesn’t miss how his hand brushes yours, completely intentional. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t returned him. The pups here just grew out of their mom’s milk and are very hyper. It’s a lot of work.”

You're completely oblivious to this, you’re just glad the dog is back to where he belongs.

“No problem, he’s very sweet.” You smile politely. “Are they up for adoption? It would really help you out if they were, you know, and this one here is well behaved.”

At this point Natasha’s just eyeing the guy like he’d pounce on you any minute now. He’s definitely into you and she doesn’t like it.

“You’re welcome to stop by anytime,” he grins, ignoring your suggestion. “Can I have your number?”

“Oh, I don’t have a phone...” you trail off.

“That’s right, she doesn’t.” Natasha steps in and she catches the guy off guard and surprised that the Black Widow is actually with you the whole time. Natasha intertwines her hand with yours, pleased with his dumbfounded reaction. “We’ll be on our way now.”

You didn’t expect that but you weren’t complaining. Her hands were soft, and it brought this comforting feeling you couldn’t explain. But you clear your throat once the both of you are a few blocks away from the center.

“Sorry, he gave me an off vibe,” Natasha mutters and removes her hand from yours.

“Don’t be, I appreciate you looking out,” you smiles. Her car was getting into view now. “If it helps you sleep at night though, he wasn’t my type.” You joke.

Turns out you weren’t completely oblivious.

Natasha merely scoffs, getting in the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

After the dog incident you both drove around different parts of the city. You went to a different mall to stroll around, commenting on anything you both saw that would somehow lead to a stupid story that happened at some point in your lives.

A local artsy bookstore, not gonna lie Natasha liked reading a good book when she had the time. So did you. It was nice to know that she’s the type of person who liked reading. Quill always got annoyed with you whenever he saw you reading silently in the ship (but when was he not annoyed with you?). The only ones that was willing to try and read back in space were Mantis and Gamora, bless her soul.

“These are good,” you mutter to Natasha. “All my books are on the ship, I think, but if I get to them I’ll let you read my favorite one... if you want.”

Last stop of the day. Natasha claims it’s a surprise.

“I don’t do well with surprises,” you whine, holding back a smile. “Just tell me.”

“No. And besides, we’re already here.” Natasha chuckles.

Your eyes light up on how stunning the scenery was. An edge of the cliff and below is a beach that doesn’t look like it’s visited by people everyday. The beautiful sunset, the sky made up of purple, orange and almost pink magnifies the calmness of the waves crawling gently to the shore.

“I always come here whenever I need to,” she says silently and exhales, walking over to you. “It’s the perfect place to go whenever those idiots get on my nerves.” You laugh lightly at her reasoning.

Natasha pats a spot on the grass beside her. She holds her gaze on you as you sit down, sighing. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” she manages to stop staring at you and look up at the sky instead. It's getting darker by the minute, the orange and pinkness started to fade as the sun went down, all of it replaced by light purple, darker shade of blue.

You're used to different colored skies. It would always vary and depend on what planet you were on, plus you always see those stars shimmering up above, so your focus is on the water and the waves. The way they move calms you.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur. “I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t expect any of this happening.”

Natasha hums. “I hope I wasn’t too boring.”

“Of course not, I think you’re very interesting and you’re fun to be with.” You say genuinely.

Once the sun is fully down and the moon had taken over the sky, the both of you get up to head back to the compound. “Eating out here would’ve been nice but Steve’s in charge with dinner, he wouldn’t be too happy if he knew we already ate.” The car ride back is silent, but the good kind. A content, comfortable one.

Okay so, your stay took more than a few weeks. 

You grew close with the amazing group of people, plus your good relationship with Natasha just kept growing and... just got better.

Thor stayed too because he didn’t have a choice, but he didn’t mind. Rocket left one pod for both of you to use that’ll send you to wherever Quill’s ship was up there. 

You and Natasha went out when you had the chance, taking turns treating each other to stuff. You learned that Thor included your books when he packed you a bag, and now Natasha was borrowing one of them.

Sometimes you’d join them on missions. You did a great job every time, not wanting to be a burden to a team you weren’t officially in. Sometimes you’d join Steve into a sparring session at the compound’s gym.

Speaking of which, he’s treating both you and Natasha as if you’re dating.

“Would you look at that, your girl managed to give me a bruise. She’s a keeper.” Steve tells Natasha.

“You totally deserve that.”

You also started sparring with Natasha. And Tony caught on with the whole ‘dating’ thing from Steve.

“Oooh, am I interrupting something here?” Tony smirks. He's going back and forth visiting the compound and coming home to his wife and daughter at their cabin. It's working out though. “I think the mat’s unsanitary. Take this to the bedroom.”

“Oh shut up, Y/N was just working on her tackling.” Natasha grunts, leaving you sprawled  on the mat, exhausted. “It’s getting sloppy. We’ll go again in a minute.”

-----

“Y/N,” The devastating tone of Natasha’s voice makes you look up. “Quill’s calling. He’s looking for you.”

“What?” She doesn’t answer but instead motions you to follow. In her office is a hologram of your fellow half-human and he looks distraught.

You step in front of the hologram so he can see you. 

“What happened to a few weeks, L/N? It’s been almost three months!” Quill says. “Look, come back, bring Thor with you. Our distress signal goes off almost every day and we can’t keep doing this without both of you.”

“Alright, how much time do I have before you lose your cool?” You reply sarcastically, but you're also worried and didn’t want to leave. You know better than to argue with the guy.

Natasha doesn’t want you to leave so suddenly. There’s limited communication between you and her once you go back up there. She grew attached to you.

Quill gives you an obvious look. “As soon as possible! Just - just get back here, please?” Then he abruptly ends the call.

You roll your eyes and left the room to pack, barely noticing Natasha hunched over, visibly sad and anxious that you’re leaving.

She loves you, and now you’re leaving without that knowledge.

You told Thor about it when he passed by the open door of your room. He didn’t look thrilled to be leaving so suddenly. After packing everything up (on his part it wasn’t that much) he offered to carry your bag for you as you said your farewells.

“Sorry guys, duty calls,” you sigh, hugging everyone. “Seeing as Tony’s not here just tell him I’ll miss him or something.”

“Will you come visit soon?” Wanda asks as she pulls away from your hug.

“Definitely.” You turn your head when Steve nudges you, nodding his head to the direction where Natasha is shifting, pacing, avoiding any eye contact.

You walk over to her. She tries holding back tears as you did. She grew attached to you and now you’re leaving. “Hey Nat,” you cup her face, trying to get her to look at you. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna leave either, not right now, but-”

Natasha kisses you, pulling you close to her as much as possible. Tears fully streaming down her face. She’s never felt this way before, about anybody, for a long time.

But let’s face it, you both know you loved each other. Maybe the both of you just knew that if you got together, it’ll be extremely hard for your relationship once you left. The long distance relationship thing. Even if you aren’t, it's already too painful for Natasha, like she's caught off guard or something. None of you knew that today's your last night on Earth.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Natasha whispers after pulling away.

You smile sympathetically, wiping her tears away with your thumb. “You know I’ll come back, right, pretty girl?” Natasha exhales shakily and pulls you into a hug.

“You better.”

----

I found a song for this fic-series whatever, please I’m so proud of myself the song reminds me of this story

I’M ANNOYED THAT I HAVEN’T PUT IN MUCH ABOUT THE READER’S FIRE ABILITIES IN THIS ONE BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY ANYWAY (they’re on a date she wouldn’t need it for anything)

[0risha]

ʚ @brushwood-souls requested ; hie!! for ur 500 followers request thingy!! 505 by arctic monkeys with gojo! (gender neutral reader ^^) thank ue and congrats!

ʚ pairing ; gojo x gn!reader

ʚ content/warning ; fluff, angst, it might be a little confusing if you haven't read about Gojo's past arc??

ʚ find xetou's here!

It’s eerie. The silence that is. Spots of darkness and color swim in vision when your eyes flutter shut. You expect to hear a shuffle or a familiar voice from the room next to yours— like always, but it never comes. 

In distress, you breathe out a puff of air and turn on your side, your covers rippling as you move. This should be a good thing— right?

For once Gojo wasn’t running his mouth to some random fling on the phone. With being his dorm neighbor, you always wondered how he juggled his never-ending love life with the addition of being the strongest shaman. But it’d remain a mystery, just like the rest of him.

You didn’t consider yourself close with Gojo, if anything you barely knew him. You had your own set of moments with him, sure. Like that one time, he had saved you from being a curse’s next meal, though before you could thank him he called you a nuisance. 

The funniest thing about it all was that you had saved him before, but you blamed it on Gojo just not being on his best game. It did add a slight pump to your ego, but you didn’t think it would add to his if you bragged about 'saving the strongest shaman.' 

Even if it already seemed like he hated you.

When you decide that Gojo's silence is for the best, you close your eyes once again and lull your muscles to rest. Your efforts are proven to be successful as sleep starts to encase your senses.

That is until you hear a crash, it's barely audible when the sound meets your ear but you perk up, nonetheless. Then comes another and another, each louder than the one before. Begrudgingly, you roll over and hop out of the comfort of your bed. Your feet pad against the cool tiles when you reach your room door, you don't bother to put on shoes, his room was only two steps away from yours.

Hesitantly you knock at his door, it's a soft rap but you think he hears because the crashing comes to a stop.

"Gojo?" The silence is deafening but a random croak intercepts it.

"Gojo?" You can hear him shuffle about. With that, a stone of realization sits in your gut, he was ignoring you.

"I just wanted to make sure if you were ok—" Your voice catches in your throat when the door is cracked open. You wait for a second to pass to make sure that you were actually welcomed.

When the door doesn't close, you walk into Gojo's room. His room is Gojo-like. Messy in some areas, neat in others. Your chest deflates once you see how big his bed is. Not fair. Your brow furrows once you see multiple items strewn haphazardly around the room— probably the source of all those noises, you decide.

Your gaze sweeps across his room once more, the curtains are closed tight and his lit-up phone sits on a nightstand. Gojo getting a call so late at night…was to be expected.

The room was barely lit and even smelled like him but there was no Gojo in sight.

“Gojo?”

A sniffle permeates the room.

“Where are you?” The sound of your footsteps is silenced by the blue carpet as you move closer to where you think you heard the noise.

When you see a ray of light, you shuffle towards it. With shallow breaths, you place your hand on what you believed to be the bathroom's door knob. 

When you do open the door, your eyes go wide when arctic eyes meet yours. 

This was truly not what you expected. Words of surprise bubble within the expanse of your throat but you push it down. Not for your sake but for his.

“Oh–” You gnaw at your bottom lip. “I– I– can come back.” You internally wince at your own words when your eyes again flit across his face. The strongest shaman or... the man across from you sat with wet-streaked cheeks. 

Unsure of what to do and after a few seconds of internal debate, you slowly squat down to his eye level. If he noticed your actions, he doesn’t show it. His eyes are still downcast as now muted sobs escape from the confines of his lips.

“G–gojo, do you need any–” You stop once his head falls on your shoulder. Your breath hitches as his bubble of warmth intertwines with your own. 

With wide eyes, your hands hesitantly come around to rest on his clothed back. You still for a moment, hands unmoving as you contemplate every second that’s transpired. 

Maybe he’d mistaken you for someone else— Ieiri? Ieiri had known him ever since his high school days, it would make a sliver of sense.

But as you mull over their love and hate relationship you rule it out of your book of contemplation. You flirt with the idea of having a connection strong enough for Gojo to fall into such a vulnerable state around you but... it didn’t seem likely. 

You pull yourself out of your thoughts to side-eye the man on your shoulder. His white hair clouds most of your vision but you can see the way his shoulders sag, almost... defeatedly. Slowly, you rub his back in soothing circles and try to match his breathing. 

Gojo simply had two worlds on his shoulders, his own and the one against him. Each weighing absurd amounts of weight, both set to point to him as their savior. It made sense, it really did.  

But with this realization, came another. A certain conversation with Ieiri. 

It’d been your first day and Shoko had personally came to talk to you. Almost instantly, you put her on a pedestal of interest.

You couldn’t help it, she was a healer, she was pretty and she smoked cigarettes. But to your dismay, her topic of conversation had been about Gojo Satoru.

You’d heard about his personality. Immature, childish, and cynical. Yet, she talked about him in high regard, which in some way contrasted with prior actions you’d seen. But there was one piece of information that you’d locked away in a forgotten chamber of mind. 

Gojo seemed to always shrink in himself when the weather grew warmer, the result of the anniversary of a certain memory. The memory, you didn’t know, Ieiri skated around the question whenever you asked.  You remember her staring at you intently, eyes sparkling with a flash of grief as she exhaled a pull of smoke from the encasement of her lungs. 

“He always gets weird when that time comes… just comfort him for me, yeah?” Dumbly, you had nodded, not exactly sure what she’d been conveying. 

But it’d been so long ago and with no signs of you and Gojo creating a bond anytime soon, you’d forgotten all about it. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. When his movements still, you curse internally, figuring that you’d made the wrong choice of words. But when his body curls more into your side, you breathe out a sigh in relief and repeat your prior words. 

“It’s okay.” And you say it over and over until his body slumps over with exhaustion. He doesn’t snore, is your first thought but your second thought is pride. 

Not in an arrogance but in fulfillment. 

Just a simple pull of pride for being able to soothe the strongest man in the world. 

— if your name is in bold I could not tag you :(

tagging ; @uniquabackyardigans @crapimahuman @dukinaxael @princess-in-flowers @astraea-essie @italyhrry

— to join my taglist go here!

[oddaodd]

hiiii! I am currently OBSESSED with your works. Too damn good😫😫 And can I please req a teeth rotting fluff where Tommy’s s/o is babying him after he killed someone. Particularly when he killed one of the Italian in his kitchen. I just feel like Tommy deserves some babying from time to time lololol.Thank you so much! Hope ur safe and well:>>

· The Flames Singing ·

Warnings: Season 4 SPOILERS (sort of), Mentions of death, blood, alcohol and smut (nothing too graphic though).

Author’s note: Thank you so much, it means a lot! ❤️ And thank you for requesting this, I loved writing it! I got a bit carried away and altered some of the events of the show, John didn't die in this and Michael didn't get shot.  Still, I hope you enjoy it and have the loveliest of days. 🥰

· 

“She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large blue caterpillar…”

“Mrs. Shelby” Interrupted Frances politely, earning the attention of both Y/n and Charlie.

“Yes, Frances?” answered Y/n, who upon seeing the terrified look on Frances face asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Shelby wants to see you, he’s in your room” blurted Frances, her hands shaking slightly. Deciding not to inquire any further Y/n rose from the sofa and handed Charlie to Frances. “We were on page 37” she informed her so she could continue reading Lewis Carrol’s work to the toddler.

“Very well” muttered Frances before going to fetch the book Y/n had left on the sofa.

“Y/n!” Blabbered Charlie, his tiny arm reaching out to her.

Y/n turned around and went to grab his tiny hand in hers. “I’ll be back I promise. Frances will read to you meanwhile”

Charlie smiled and once again Y/n walked towards the door. The boys voice didn’t ask her to stay this time. Y/n hurried through the cold corridors finally arriving at Hers and Tommy’s room, she entered and called his name, but no response came. 

Inside was a panicked Tommy, rummaging through drawers, taking out some gowns for her and trousers and shirts for him, shoving them into a suit case.

“What’s going on?” She asked worried, scanning over the room and panicking slightly at the bloodied shirt and towel laying on one corner. “Is that your blood??”

Tommy ceased his movements and closed the suitcase, Finally looking at her “We have to leave”

“And go where?”

“Back to small Heath”

“What’s going on?” She asked worried.

“I just killed an Italian in our fucking kitchen, we’ve been delivered a black hand. No one is safe, we have to go back to small Heath now!” He demanded in urgency.

Y/n nodded in understanding “I’ll go get some of Charlie’s clothes”

The ride to small Heath was silent. Y/n’s glance switched from the sleeping Charlie in the back seat, cradling Grace’s picture to Tommy, who she could tell, was on edge . No matter how hard he tried to deny it, killing people got to him, knowing that Pol and his brothers hated him got to him, and the prospect of the vendetta got to him. She placed a hand on his leg to break him out of his destructive thoughts. A simple action, to remember him she was there.

Tommy glanced at her for a second, the saddest of smiles concealed behind his frantic eyes, before holding her hand in his. She started rubbing the back of his hand as he drove with the other.

When they arrived in small Heath Tommy called a meeting in the betting shop to negotiate for peace among the family. The meeting though tense was fruitful and it was adjourned as quickly as it started. Everyone left immediately afterwards, not quite ready to be on Tommy’s presence.

After closing the shop Y/n Tommy and Charlie made their way to Tommy’s old house. It was late so y/n went upstairs to put Charlie to bed in Finn’s old bedroom. Once she made sure Charlie was asleep she made her way to Tommy’s old room, but found it empty. Not wanting to call out his name and risk waking Charlie up she walked downstairs as quietly as she could in search for her husband.

She found him sitting down in front of a fire in the parlor a whisky glass in his hand, just staring into the flames.

She sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder intertwining her fingers with the ones from his other hand.

“Where are you?” She whispered, also staring into the flames.

“Here” he replied downing his glass and placing it next to him. What a lie.

“Well, your body may be, but you aren’t” she softly retorted.

He gave a sigh “I’m just reminiscing of every single decision I’ve made that’s lead me, us, to this moment”

“Do you regret any of them” she inquired sadly. Looking at him already knowing the answer.

“Many” he confessed still intently staring into the flames. “Everybody hates me now”

“I don’t hate you” she offered with a tiny smile.

He sighed and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly, prompting her to scoot even closer to him. “Do you think they will ever forgive me?” He asked finally looking at her.

“I know they will, they just need some time” she reassured.

He pondered on it for a few moments. Not satisfied with his thoughts he let go of her hand and brought his to her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheekbone before joining his lips with hers in search of a welcoming place. She corresponded the kiss and started running her fingers through his dark locks before pulling him to lay down with her on the carpet. They settled into a comfortable position and he pulled away after a few moments.

“Tell me something nice” his voice interrupted the sound of the flames in a soft plea. His eyes uncharacteristically vulnerable.

She smiled at him and brought her hand to his face, intently looking into his eyes “Remember that night we slept under the stars last spring?” She asked lovingly.

Tommy nodded and she continued “Everything was perfect. The day had been perfect and all was just right”

A weak smile decorated Tommy’s face in recollection to the memory. “Things will be like that again, there will be perfect days in our future” she promised.

He didn’t believe her words, but they brought comfort to him, they always did.

“And if things aren’t alright, know that I’ll always be with you”

She could swear she saw tears brimming his eyes for a second before he kissed her again with the same need as moments before.

She indulged in his need and let him drown in her. Sex with him was always very intimate, but that night she felt his soul touch hers. Their naked skin pressed together and the sound of their agitated breathings trying to settle into regular breathings after climaxing formed a melody with the cracking of the fire which made them both succumb to ignoring the world outside of the old small Heath house.  

“Do you want to go to bed?” She asked breathlessly after a while.

“Yeah, let’s go” he breathed getting up and helping her up, her feet a bit wiggly consequence of Tommy’s touch.

Once they were in his old room, they refreshed themselves and laid in his small bed together. He let her hold him that night. Her arm draped over his naked waist, his fingers intertwined with hers, her pressing soft kisses to his neck and back, making him believe that everything she said was true. They were going to be alright.

@nyotamalfoy

@peakyxtommy

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

[doelet444]

what are the top three dolls in ur collection? <3

Oooh ok top three.

my 3 fav girlies!

Sabrina St. Cloud from Rainbow High

She’s giving endless summer world tour mary pray the rosary for my broken mind mazzy star realness. In the rainbow, her color theme is rose quartz and her character is absolutely adorable - she’s a singer in a trio girl group like those 60’s soul groups (Ronettes, the Crystals, the Supreme etc.) I can’t wait to get her other band mates! She is wearing a heart-shaped lace ribbon on her head, frilly socks & a homemade vintage barbie dress, I love the way her deep green eyes and pink lips match the little flowers on the fabric <3 Sabrina is love, Sabrina is baby.

Calico, a custom Blythe doll carved and painted by me

She is my baby and my favorite piece of art I have ever done. She was very difficult to make and I’m really so proud of her. I painted her eye chips, face, coated her lids in fabric I painted, sewed her dress, made her teeth out of clay, hand crafted pull strings, body blushed her n all the other things. When I feel bad about myself I just look at her and feel like I’m here for a reason and that beautiful things can actually be contributed into this world because of me. Calico certainly holds a special place in my heart.

American Girl’s Marie-Grace Gardner

Marie Grace was the very first doll that I bought with my own savings with intentions of becoming a doll collector at the age of eleven. I remember crying when she was delivered and opening her up on the kitchen table and just staring into her glossy aqua marine eyes reflecting the light coming from the window. When I read the books as a girl, her character reminded me a lot of myself, a very shy girl who loves her dog and saw so much beauty in the people she adored & cared for. She is also baby. Her face sculpt is my favorite of American Girl’s, I would love to customize another doll with this sculpt since they just released new ones in diff skin tones!

My fourth n fifth favs would prolly be Viperine Gorgon from Monster High and my Giant Ragdoll, Dorothy :3

[kurt-nightcrawler]

How to know if the lost girls have a crush on you

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐩! 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: mentions of drug use and language

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I know requests aren’t open jddndjdj but I enjoy writing for the lost girls so enjoy!!

Darcy

Darcy is a sucker for romance

She’s a bit shy and awkward, despite her semi-scary looking demeanor 

(She’s 6’0 and has resting bitch face)

Darcy isn’t going to be super obvious or up-front about her feelings at first though

It will be the cliche “we’ve been friends for 10 years and everyone knows we like each other except us” 

Darcy will always have a hand on you. She wants to feel your presence 

subtle touches, little “pinky holding” or her playing with strands of your hair

Her poking any freckles you have when she first discovers them

You’re one of the few people she let’s mess with her hair. Which is a telling sign

“Your hair looks nice Darce” “thanks, (Y/N) did it” “oh worm? 👀” 

She loves having you run your hands through her hair, it soothes her

Sometimes, if you can’t make it to the cave— bad weather, car trouble, etc.— shell come over and you guys watch a movie together

Darcy’s got an extensive tape collection of rom-coms, so she’ll pop one into the tv and snuggle under covers with you

She’s probably going to ask to borrow your clothes if she’s “really cold” since she exclusively wears sports bras and her leather jacket

Also she likes that your sweaters and sweatshirts smell like you 

But you’ll definitely have to have been friends for awhile before she even CONSIDERS telling you how she feels

“I live forever. I have to be sure about my feelings and what if I get rejected?” “Anyone who rejects you is stupid. Almost stupid as Michelle—“ “HEY!” 

But overtime she’ll try to make things more obvious— to the point where Pauline and Marcella are teasing you both and then she kind of HAS to come clean

But you find it sweet! 

And a bit shocking, someone as powerful and strong and amazing and gorgeous as her, has feelings for YOU??? damn okay babe 

Dominique 

Dom is going to be a bit cold at first

It’s not necessarily intentional, but she just has this aura of mystery around her

Those icy blue eyes that peer into your soul

And anyway she wants to get to know what you like and if you like her

If not, she can’t exactly force you 

Cough cough Michelle cough cough

 Anyway, Dominique will try to learn about the things you like so you have something to talk about

Even if they aren’t her cup of tea. She’s a good listener and likes seeing your face light up and you so passionate about a subject/hobby

Dom is going to steal buy you things she thinks you’d like

“You said you liked cherry chapstick. I got you some.” “I got you some chips and your favorite soda in case you’re hungry” “Here. I saw this giant care bear and thought of you.”

It’s sweet, but you feel a bit flustered and embarrassed, not giving her anything in return

“Seeing you smile is enough, Kitten”

Speaking of! Pet names! 

Dominique finds using your full/actual name too personal

So if you have a nickname she’ll use it. If not she’s given you pet names— most notable are Kitten and Pumpkin

She’s not big on physical touch but sometimes she’ll put the idea of it into your mind so you want it

She won’t manipulate you, but she wants you to come to her. She’s had too many bad experiences where she confessed first, and she doesn’t want another one

So when you do finally confess to her she’s all smug and knowing

“I um… I really like you… and uh well—“ “I know.” “Oh…” “I like you too.”  “Oh!”

 Marcella

She’s going to be playful and flirty with you but quick to deny anything the other girls accuse her of

“No I don’t have feelings for (Y/N)! Shut up!” “Haha you so do!”

She’s rowdy and high energy but also more quiet than Pauline

So she’s not going to just blurt it out or recite sonnets for you

Instead she’ll give you a patch she was going to put on her jacket. Or make you a cool little pin

She’ll constantly hype you up if you’re wanting to try new fashion styles or wear something out of your comfort zone

“You look amazing! Better than any girl out on the boardwalk” “You really think so?” “I would never lie to you. Honest.” 

She’ll let you braid her hair and stick all kinds of colorful little clips and barrettes in her curls 

(I know they weren’t popular until the 90s but imagining covering her hair in hundreds of little butterfly clips!) 

Honestly she’ll be like those movie scenes where “do you like it?” *it’s hideous* “if not you don’t have to wear it!” “No. I’m never taking it off.” 

She asks you to help care for her pigeons so you guys can bond together more

“Does Pauline or Sebastian usually help you feed them?” “No. No one does. I don’t let them.” “Oh…”

If someone upsets you she's ready to go and have them as her meal for the night

Sometimes you have to stop her

“Look! Cathy from my work is a total bitch but you can’t kill her! I won’t have anyone to cover my shift tomorrow”

“Fine… You're lucky I love you”

“What?”

“What?” 

She’d probably accidentally tell you and then act like she has no idea what you could be talking about

“Well I like you too. But I dunno… Dom’s pretty cute too—“ 

“Oh that’s it!” She’s definitely smothering you in little kisses and tickling you, getting you say you’re sorry and say you think she’s the cutest

 Pauline

She’s just going to blurt it out point blank. 

Why wait? If Pauline likes someone, she likes someone! She may be immortal but she’s also immortally impatient 

She tells you she likes you so much you start to think she’s kidding

But she’s not! 

She’ll bring you baked goods edibles and take you out to concerts and maybe steal your shoelace to wear on her wrist

Sometimes you’ll have little “sleepovers” and you’ll hangout at the cave. Usually this means sharing a joint and watching her play songs on her guitar

She’s definitely not exclusively playing romantic songs for you

One night she’ll get high and just pour her heart out to you

“And I think you’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of people, babe… And sure, I’m definitely a bit ditzy but I’m not completely stupid! I know you don’t believe me, but I really really like you! I think about you a lot and I hate when you have to leave right before the sun rises. And on nights you can’t hangout with us it’s so boring! We do the same things every night, but you always make them special. I really like you babe… I really really like you…”

She’ll wanna take you out on a little date to one of the small bands playing on the boardwalk and you’ll both dance together and she’ll be real giddy and excited and probably kiss you but it’s really messy and quick because she was just so wrapped up in the music! 

 Michelle

She’s really obvious

Like, staring at you with heart eyes when she first sees you out on the boardwalk

She’ll try to not-so-subtly follow you around. She’s not being creepy, but she just wants to admire your beauty 

She thinks she’ll never see you again

Imagine her surprise when she sees you again! 

“Told you! She probably lives around town” “Shut up Sam!” 

You’ll eventually confront her and ask what her deal is

“Oh! Uh, um, well, I just— I... like... your outfit?...” 

She’s bad at coming up with an alibi

“thanks. I get most of my clothes at the thrift store away from the boardwalk. Wanna join sometime?” “Uh yeah! Sounds good!” 

She’s going to do some dumb things to impress you— racing on her bike, getting more piercings, dressing in lots of leather, offering to buy you food— but you think it’s cute

She’ll follow you around like a lost puppy at times, partially cause she’s new in town

Sam likes you though!

When you and Michelle hangout, you’ve usally got the braincell and you don’t tease Sam for liking comics so much

“No Samantha, I’m not taking you to the comic shop” “Aww Sammy I will!” “Thanks (Y/N)! You’re the best”

Honestly you knew the whole time she liked you! You had moments of doubt but she’s always so obvious about it. Once you even swore she drooled over you

A bit gross, but you were also eating ice cream so…

Visiting her at work! She’s a lifeguard down at the beach! She’s definitely trying to get you visit her ;) and go swim and sunbathe ;) maybe have her “perform cpr” on you ;)

But you’d still have to make the first move if you wanted it to go any further 

 Sebastian 

He’s got this aura of mystery around him 

But he’ll steal glances if he spots you in the crowd, thinking you’re cute

The lost girls will want him to bring you back to the cave

He will, but not for awhile

It will be small one on one hangouts and dancing together on the boardwalk 

Walking in and out of shops, saying you’ll buy things but you never will

Sebastian will offer to pierce your ears and paint your nails 

Night swimming together! 

Sebastian definitely has really floral swim trunks, almost like tacky dad Hawaiian shirt print 

He’ll do the thing where he’s under water for a long time and then jump up and scare you

Once you meet the girls you’re all playing games together like sharks and minnows, chicken

Sebastian always wants to team up with you though. Even if teams aren’t a part of the game

He likes to read. He’ll spend a good amount of time at the bookstore on the boardwalk, staying there for hours reading books, and leaving with a whole stack

If YOU have a book he wants to read/borrow he will definitely maybe leave a little sticky note in it as a thank you

“thank you! ur sweet :D <3” 

Laura will love you!! 

She’s very close to Sebastian and everyone thinks they’re siblings, and they most definitely have the dynamic 

So if Laura likes you, Sebastian will definitely like you. I mean, he already does, Laura just kind of seals the deal, ya know?

Dominique and Pauline will be the most blunt about Sebastian’s feelings for you

“He’s like Darcy. Not necessarily the most obvious but you can tell” 

“It’s so obvious. He like, talks about you all the time when you aren’t around and he’s got this real love sick look in his eyes”

Dominique is going to interrogate you to see if you’re “worthy” or not of Sebastian. 

“Sebastian is my— our friend— like a brother almost. Hurt him and I will kill you :) that is a promise” 

Once she deems you good enough she’s going to push Seb into asking you out. “You guys already go on enough ‘dates’ just make it official” “no” “-_-“ “hhh fine”

Sebastian is going to be really simple with it but also kind of coy and shy. He’s nervous. He’s much rather you asked him out or confessed your feelings but he’s willing to go first. He finds himself trying to compete and keep up with the girls. He’s the only boy, and while it may not matter he doesn’t want to seem weak and pathetic while they’re big strong vampires

Anyway once he tells you how he feels he’s all red in the face and nervous!! Poor boy

He’ll constantly ask to kiss you all the time, worried maybe you don’t want him to but you’re always reassuring “yes, Seb. you can have a kiss” “thank you” 

[raffinit]

for ur sylvaina prompt ask if ur still doing it: as a sign of good faith during peace negotiations, jaina invents a few spells (w/ her brother as a willing test subject) for sylvanas and the forsaken. spells to help improve taste, for example. little things to help an undead get through the day a little easier, things that only the forsaken or those who lived with them would know about. basically jaina helps with forsaken accessibility and sylvanas not knowing what to do with that

thank you to everyone who bought me ko-fis

bc of you i can actually put a read more cut on this with my VERY OWN COMPUTER SOBS

back to regular updates soon i promise, i just have all these beautiful prompts

-------

It began, like most things, curiously. Or rather — with curiosity. It was a trait of hers that drew mixed results at times; more in her vibrant youth than in her middle age. Her mother once told her that she had enough curiosity to kill ten cats, and Jaina had worn it then with pride.

She learned, with time, to contain her curiosities. To apply them scientifically; because science allowed for more curiosity than she knew what to do with. Science was her excuse for setting the curtains on fire when she was nine.

Science was her excuse for portalling abruptly into the war room and landing on the table during a council meeting.

Science was why she stared so intently at Sylvanas Windrunner.

Or perhaps, more accurately — it was purely curiosity at that point. The Banshee Queen was an unreadable figure, an inscrutable force that left Jaina all but reeling with each passing day the Horde and Alliance drew closer and closer to sealing a peace treaty.

She never thought she'd live to see the day.

What she still couldn't quite put her finger on was — ironically — Sylvanas.

The Warchief did many things that were incomprehensible for one reason or another. But to Raise Derek — what could Sylvanas have possibly gained, short of perhaps tormenting them with the knowledge that she simply could?

Her reunion with Derek had been a tearful one; rife with things that neither of them could fully comprehend. Clutching her brother close, clinging to him tight, she caught the figure of the Warchief in her periphery; caught the strange melancholy on Sylvanas' face.

It was there for only an instant. Sylvanas' ear flicked, then her burning eyes flashed to meet Jaina's.

Jaina blinked and the Warchief was gone.

Reconnecting with her brother came in stages. Baby steps. They had become vastly different people — too changed to reminisce without sorrow in its wake.

Still, beneath it all, beneath his Undeath — Derek was still Derek.

Derek, who teased her fondly about all that he could. He who boldly tested the limitations of his Undead form in ways that brought back memories of a childhood spent clambering over tree branches and diving off cliffs.

"What does it feel like?" she asked one day, when her curiosity became too much.

Derek paused, lifting his head to stare off into the horizon. “It feels like…living behind a curtain, honestly,” he confessed. “I feel present…but my presence feels…” he shrugged. “Muted, almost. As if I exist on only a fragment of this plane. I’m stronger than I ever was; I can do things I couldn’t even imagine.”

Jaina ducked her head to meet his eyes encouragingly. It was still unsettling, in some way, to look into her brother’s face and see the burning unnatural shade of his gaze. “But…?”

“But I do miss it,” he sighed, a wistful look on his face. “Eating, drinking. Sleeping. I’m never tired, but sleeping’s never just been about being tired, has it? I’d like the privilege of choosing whether or not I want to rest.”

Jaina felt that deeply.

She blinked then, head tilting curiously. “Do you not taste things anymore? I’ve read some things about that, but I thought Forsaken could eat. And sleep. There were inns in the Undercity.”

“I understand about as much as you. Perhaps even less so,” he said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. He gave her a soft, self-deprecating little smile. “But here I am, lamenting the things I’ve lost when I should be grateful to even be here to begin with.”

She smiled at him faintly, though her mind was already reeling with thought. With the myriad of ways that she could — that she should — help.

“…what if you could do those things again?” she asked.

Derek paused and turned to stare at her curiously. Whatever it was that he saw there on her face made a knowing smile spread across his lips. “I know that look,” he said. “That’s a science look.”

Jaina smiled slowly. “Are you up for an experiment?”

“Always,” he said gamely. “Anything for science.”

-----

They tried spells first. Little experiments of magic that Jaina imbued her brother with in slow, gentle touches. The Light burned, but too much arcane made Derek sway like a sailor drowning in his cups. Some spells rekindled too much of Derek’s living form; made him inescapably aware of the damage his body had borne. 

The agony on her brother’s face made for many sleepless nights and haunted dreams.

“This one makes everything smell,” he said one today.

Jaina brightened hopefully. “Good smells?”

“Like eggs.”

“Eggs?”

“Farty eggs. Like kippers in the morning.”

Jaina huffed and waved her hands briskly to recall the spell. “Maybe a potion instead.”

It took her another few weeks to pull together a functioning elixir. Nights spent hunched over her desk, sleeping with her cheek pressed to page after page of notes from ancient tomes and books helpfully “borrowed” from the vast library of Stormwind City.

Derek watched her some days, peering over her shoulder like a curious child at the window of a bakery. She indulged him as much as her patience would allow; until eventually his persistent questions and hovering made her all too aware of the cramped space of her temporary rooms in the Keep.

“How about you sit,” she said, jerking her chin at the plush armchair by the fireplace. “Tell me about what it’s been like since you’ve...Risen.”

Derek peered at her wordlessly but obliged, settling himself comfortably into the armchair. “What exactly do you want to know?”

Jaina shrugged. “Anything, I suppose. Everything? The Forsaken are an enigma to us. The Warchief most of all.”

“I don’t have anything to report,” he drawled. “She never spoke of plans to double-cross the Alliance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I just meant as a person,” she replied in exasperation. “What was the Warchief like...up close?”

Derek blinked and sat back into the armchair, staring for a few thoughtful moments into the fireplace. At length, he said, “She’s a lot kinder than you would think. When I first...Awoke...she was there. She wouldn’t leave me until she was sure I could manage it on my own.”

“Manage what?”

“Existing, I suppose.” He twisted around in the armchair and peered at her over the back. “Did you know; she said I led her to my body?”

Jaina blinked. “What?”

“My soul, that is. She said she could hear it. She could hear all of us.” Derek’s voice softened with thought, and something like pity. “All of the souls lost at sea. The ones who never made peace with it. The ones who refused to rest.”

Incredulous, she asked, “She can do that?”

Derek nodded sagely. “So it seems.”

“Hmm.”

Eventually, she held out a vial of something that looked like it was made of something between the aether and sewage water. “Here.”

He took it in hand, tilting the vial this way and that and swirling it gently. “Couldn’t it have looked like a pint of mead or something? Why do all potions have to look like bog water?”

“Derek.”

“Fine, fine,” he huffed, bringing the vial to his lips —

“Just a sip, first,” she warned, eyes wide with apprehension. “Hold it on your tongue for a moment and let it coat your mouth before you swallow.”

He complied with a slight nod and Jaina watched as Derek’s jaw moved in a slow flex; as if he were considering a particular vintage of port. His glowing eyes blinked in surprise and he pulled the vial away to stare down at it thoughtfully. “Doesn’t taste as awful as it looks.”

Jaina’s eyes lit up eagerly. “So you can taste?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply, then winced hard. “Yes,” he croaked, glaring down at the vial in betrayal. “Farty eggs and kippers.” He stuck out his tongue and tried to scrape the taste off it with his teeth.

“Are you sure you’re not just confused with the smell of the sea?”

He gave her an exasperated look and corked the vial. “I think I’d know what the sea smells like.”

Jaina sighed, reaching up to run a hand through the already-tousled mess of her hair. “Back to the drawing board.”

Their success plateaued for a time; there was nothing more that Jaina could do that yielded any further result, and the frustration was building. She took to wandering the stress of Stormwind, watching the Forsaken as they bustled about. They were wary still — all of them, but the Forsaken moved with darting glances over their shoulders and the reflexive flinch of beings long-accustomed to violence.

Some mornings, she dared to test her tongue at Gutterspeak; pulling what little Derek had managed to teach her. They stared at her at first, eyeing her with open distrust and hostility that made her wonder if the words her brother had taught her weren’t inflammatory somehow.

Still, she persevered, walking among the Horde by herself when she could. Most meetings between the Alliance and Horde ran long, and there were some evenings when she would catch the glimpse of rich purple and feathered armour around the bend when she walked.

Sometimes, she would catch the Warchief’s eye as she passed. Sylvanas’ eyes gleamed at her brightly, watching as a cat would at a passing flicker of light before nodding once in greeting.

For how distant she was from the Banshee Queen, Derek seemed to have no qualms with approaching Sylvanas.

At times, she saw them talking — in quiet asides that halted abruptly the moment any other individual came within earshot, and it prodded at Jaina’s curiosity once more.

“I never thought I’d see you so friendly with the Warchief,” she remarked one day.

Derek shrugged. “She brought me back. For whatever reason. And despite what anyone might think...she...cares.”

“Cares?”

“Ask her yourself,” he replied, nudging her in the shoulder.

She didn’t, only kept her efforts of mingling with the Forsaken. Most were wary of her still, barely acknowledging her words or pointedly ignoring them.

Then one day, a Forsaken replied. His words were guttural and harsh in tone, but the words were almost...friendly. “Good morning. You must use your throat more.”

Jaina obliged readily and welcomed any and all criticism that came. Some were malicious and stung, but a majority of those who engaged her seemed...bewildered at her willingness to learn. “Haven’t others tried to learn Gutterspeak?” she asked.

The Forsaken shook his head. “Gutterspeak is beneath the Alliance, isn’t it? ‘Tis the language of us Forsaken.”

Pursing her lips, Jaina said, “All peoples should have a right to their own language.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, eyeing her with something less than hate.

Though most were wary but polite, not all members of the Horde were as accommodating. She dared to approach a warlock troll one day, blinking in surprise when he curled his lip and sneered at her.

“Why would I be sharin’ de secrets of da Horde wit’ ya?”

“Because I want to understand more about your people,” she replied staunchly. “I’m only trying to help —”

He barked out a laugh, the sound calling the attention of the nearby folk. Orc and goblin and trolls watched on, murmuring among themselves as Jaina fought back the embarrassment building in her belly.

“Leave her alone, Zaejin,” an orc said. “You’re not stupid enough to challenge the Lord Admiral.”

“Mebbe it be time someone did,” Zaejin growled back. In his hands, a dark, swirling ball of energy formed.

Jaina backed slowly away from them, smothering the prickle of arcane itching at her fingertips as more of the Horde began to gather. Something solid and cold bumped against her back and she helped softly, spinning around in alarm —

“Lady Proudmoore.”

She stiffened, staring up at burning red eyes.

Sylvanas peered down into her face impassively. A hand reached out and grasped her arm, steadying her in place. Those blazing eyes flashed back to the crowd. 

Before Jaina could speak — to explain, or perhaps protest — Sylvanas insinuated herself between them, all but looming over the warlock. “Have you any qualms with the Lord Admiral that I have not heard, Zaejin?”

The gathered Horde froze, darting nervous looks between them as they shuffled back. Zaejin bowed at the hip, refusing to lift his gaze from the ground. “Warchief. How are we ta trust de Lord Admiral’s intentions —”

“Has she given you cause for concern?” Sylvanas drawled. “Has she trod on your toes? Planned a military coup to usurp power while we are in peace talks with the Alliance?”

“Who knows with de likes o’ her,” Zaejin grumbled, casting a resentful look at Jaina.

“Then this peace treaty is a waste of time,” Sylvanas said. “If you’d like us to return to war, only say so, Zaejin. I shall leave the Lord Admiral to deal with your insubordination herself.”

At last, Jaina found her voice. “It’s alright,” she croaked, darting a slightly bewildered look between Sylvanas and Zaejin. “It’s understandable that he would be...wary still. There is too much between our factions to expect everyone to be content with peace talks.”

Sylvanas’ ear flicked, her burning eyes flashing with amusement as she inclined her head. “That much is true. Regardless.” She reached out and laid a hand on Jaina’s shoulder, squeezing just so to leave the woman gaping wordlessly at her grip. Setting her eyes to the crowd, she said, “Let it be known; so long as we remain in Stormwind, the Lord Admiral is free to walk among the Horde with my blessing.”

A rich plume of power began to bleed from her shoulders effortlessly and Jaina fought back a shiver at the raw strength of it. “Have you any protests, warlock?”

Zaejin said nothing further, only glared. Boldly, Jaina reached out and touched Sylvanas’ elbow, casting a speaking look up at the Banshee Queen. “I think your point’s been made, Warchief. Let us do as you say and lay our animosities to rest.”

Wordlessly, and strangely, Sylvanas complied. “I shall escort you to your quarters, Lady Proudmoore.”

Jaina blinked. It didn’t exactly sound like an offer so much as a command, but she quelled the instinct to bristle and nodded mutely.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, when they were a fair distance away. “That was...unnecessary, but thank you.”

Sylvanas inclined her head; the weight of her hand lingered at the small of Jaina’s back. “If these peace talks are to bear fruit, we can’t have the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras assaulted in the streets. And we can’t have you levelling half the street in retaliation.” Her eyes slid sidelong knowingly.

Jaina huffed. “I could have managed with a little more tact than that.”

“I have no doubt,” Sylvanas said. They walked on for a time in a stilted sort of silence, until the Warchief folded her arms behind her back and remarked idly, “How have your experiments been going?”

Jaina paused in her step and stared.

Shrugging, Sylvanas said, “Derek likes to talk.” It was strange to hear her brother’s name on such a foreign tongue. “I understand the desire to...process the state your brother returned to you in. Not many of the living had such a kind reception to their Undead loved ones.”

“...He told me you gave him the choice to come back. Despite everything.” Jaina’s gaze was hard and searching, but not unkind.

Sylvanas’ ears swivelled and flicked, but there was nothing in her face that gave away the Warchief’s thoughts. She shrugged. “...I do not Raise those who do not wish to be raised. Not without purpose."

“And what was your purpose here?”

Sylvanas peered at her thoughtfully before turning back forward. “I did not Raise him with the intention of misusing him. I know the stories the Alliance tells about my powers. My goals and aims.”

Her burning eyes slid sidelong to Jaina for a moment. Quietly, she said, “I will not lie and say that the possibility never crossed my mind. But the Forsaken have never been mine to use. They are my kin, not my servants.”

The weight of Sylvanas’ words stunned Jaina; brought every story about the Dark Lady and her relationship with the Forsaken into question. Many thought her a tyrant — and she was, in many ways — but this was not one of them, it seemed.

Jaina ducked her head almost in shame before nodding once, meeting Sylvanas’ gaze steadily. “I believe you.”

Sylvanas made a noise in her throat, tilting her head curiously at Jaina. “...Does he regret it? Some do.”

“No,” Jaina replied, and the honesty of her response surprised even herself. “I don’t think he does. I think he’s...trying to adjust. And I want to help.”

Sylvanas nodded slowly. “Do let me know, should you require another test subject. I would be curious to see what you could achieve,” she said.

“Wh—?”

“If you require information from the High Necromancer, I shall provide it,” Sylvanas continued, pausing as they reached the tower. Glancing up at the spire, she turned to Jaina. “It is my duty as their leader, is it not? To ease their burdens. I would like to help, if I can.”

Jaina blinked rapidly, then found herself nodding. It was the only thing she could think to do. “Y-yes, alright — I — thank you??”

A slow, curling smile spread across Sylvanas’ face. “You’re welcome. Until another time, Lady Proudmoore.”