#she’s had to be strong to survive but now she’s learning she doesn’t need to be in trauma mode

[missafroditee]

when i tell you that frontal lobe coming in hot.

[echo-riot]

Opposites Attract ||highschool!Sevika x reader||

Synopsis: Sevika is the untouchable, tough-as-nails hockey star who keeps everyone at arm’s length, while you’re the kind-hearted, gentle soul who always puts others before yourself. When a random seating arrangement forces you two together in your last-hour English class, neither of you expect much. But as the weeks pass, small moments of connection begin to shift the dynamic between you. Over time, you both learn that opposites really do attract in the most unexpected, heartwarming way.

Warnings: Swearing, Slow burn romance, Opposites attract trope, Strong language, tough love, and sarcasm

•|||——————————————————————||•

The hum of the classroom buzzes in your ears as your English teacher, Mr. Kline, starts scribbling names on the chalkboard in his typical fashion. His voice drones on in the background, rattling off the seating chart for the day. You’re just hoping he doesn’t pair you with someone who’ll be a nightmare to work with. You’re already tired from the first few hours of class, and the last thing you need is a partner who’ll drag you down or make the whole process unbearable.

Then it happens. Mr. Kline announces the changes. You glance down at your notebook, trying to tune out his voice, but your ears catch one name that makes you freeze: Sevika.

Your stomach drops. Fuck. Not her.

You glance up, catching a glimpse of her towering frame at the back of the room. Her usual scowl is firmly in place as she slouches in her seat, arms crossed. You already know what everyone else is thinking: “Ogre,” the nickname they’ve given her because of her size and tough-as-nails persona. She doesn’t care, though. She doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion—hell, she doesn’t even care about school most of the time. She’s a hockey player, a badass, a walking legend in this place. And you? You’re just… you.

Kind-hearted, thoughtful, the girl who spends way too much time trying to help everyone, even the assholes who don’t deserve it. You’re not used to having your name whispered in the same breath as Sevika’s. She’s the kind of girl you’d avoid if you had any common sense. But for some damn reason, fate decided you’d be seated next to her for the rest of the semester.

You take a deep breath and adjust your glasses, preparing for whatever the hell this is going to be. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Maybe she’s not as much of a dick as people say. Maybe you’ll be able to do your part and survive this project without being dragged into some awkward confrontation.

The bell rings, and Mr. Kline directs you to your new seats. As you walk to the back of the room, you see Sevika staring out the window, her elbow resting lazily on the desk. She’s in her usual getup—an oversized hoodie, ripped jeans, and the varsity jacket that makes her look even more like the queen of this place. Her short, choppy hair barely moves as she turns her head, her sharp grey eyes narrowing at you like a predator sizing up its next meal.

You clear your throat and approach the desk, trying to act like you’ve got this whole “partnering with Sevika” thing under control.

“Hey, Sevika,” you say, offering her a tentative smile. “Looks like we’re working together.”

She doesn’t immediately respond. Her gaze flickers to you for a brief moment, but it’s not a warm welcome. It’s the kind of look someone gives when they’re trying to decide whether or not they should punch you in the face.

“Yeah, whatever,” she mutters, returning her attention to the window.

Well, that’s a great start. You swallow and sit down next to her, fumbling with your notebook as you try to hide the awkward tension building between you. The thing is, you can’t blame her. You’ve heard all the stories. Sevika doesn’t have time for people who don’t know how to handle themselves. You’re pretty sure she considers kindness a weakness, and right now, you’re about as far from “tough” as you can get.

For the first few minutes, there’s silence. Complete and utter silence. You can hear the quiet shuffle of papers from the rest of the class, the occasional hum of the air conditioning, and the ticking of the clock on the wall. But Sevika doesn’t even seem to notice. Her pencil moves across her notebook in slow, deliberate strokes, and you catch glimpses of what she’s drawing—something abstract, chaotic, maybe even a little disturbing.

The longer you sit next to her, the more you start to feel like an intruder in her personal space. You’re trying to ignore the way she’s slowly making you feel more and more self-conscious, like you’re just a bug she’s tolerating. But you can’t help it. She’s intimidating. She’s tough, and you’re not. She doesn’t need anyone, especially not you.

And yet, despite the obvious discomfort radiating from Sevika, you can’t help but try. You want to make this work. You want to get along with her, even if everyone else is too scared to even look her in the eye.

“So… what do you think about this project?” You ask, offering the faintest of smiles as you open your textbook and flip to the assignment. “I think we’re supposed to write about—”

“Don’t care,” she interrupts with a grunt, rolling her eyes. She pushes the notebook aside and leans back in her chair, one leg stretched out in front of her as she rests her hands behind her head. “I’m just here so I don’t get detention, so don’t expect me to do much.”

Your mouth dries as you nod. Of course, you didn’t expect her to be a team player.

Mr. Kline announces the start of the project and asks everyone to get into pairs. Everyone groans, except for you. You’re used to working alone, but this time, you’re stuck with Sevika, and you know there’s no way out. You glance at her, hoping she might offer some small inkling of interest in the project, but no. She’s busy staring at the ceiling, barely giving a damn.

You sigh, pushing your hair out of your face as you try to think of a way to get her to participate.

“Sevika, do you want to divide the work or just wing it?” you ask, leaning a bit closer to her in an attempt to get her attention.

She snorts, not even looking at you. “Does it look like I give a shit about school projects?”

You can’t help but laugh nervously. “I guess I’ll do the writing, then. You can handle the research part?”

Sevika gives you a blank stare. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just don’t make me do anything that requires moving.”

You nod, already feeling like this is going to be the longest hour of your life.

Throughout the class, Sevika barely pays attention, her pencil still moving across the pages of her notebook, probably doodling whatever mess is bouncing around in her head. You take careful notes, trying to focus on the project while pretending it doesn’t bother you that she’s completely zoning out.

When it’s time to head to the library after class, you gather your things. “Ready to go?” you ask.

She grunts but doesn’t respond. Instead, she stands up, stretching her arms above her head and then walks out the door without another word. You scramble to catch up with her, trying to hide how out of place you feel next to her.

You follow her to the library, where Sevika flops down into a chair at one of the tables in the back. You pull out your laptop and begin to work, trying to make progress on the project despite the looming silence hanging between you two.

After a while, you can’t help but look up at her. She’s still doodling, her eyes focused intensely on the page. The aggressive scowl that usually defines her expression has softened just a little, and you almost wonder if there’s a glimpse of vulnerability behind the tough exterior.

You clear your throat. “You ever think about what you want to do after high school?” you ask, trying to break the silence.

Sevika doesn’t look up from her notebook. “Not really.” She shrugs. “I’ll probably just keep playing hockey. Doesn’t matter.”

You want to push more, to get her to open up just a little, but you don’t. You know better than to push someone like Sevika, especially when she’s clearly not interested in chatting. Instead, you focus on the project in front of you, determined to make this work, no matter how difficult she might be.

And even though the air between you two is thick with tension, you know one thing for sure: this semester is going to be a hell of a ride.

•||——————————————————————||•

The mornings are always cold, especially this time of year. The chill seeps through your jacket, biting at your skin as you head toward the school’s entrance. It’s early, the kind of time when most students are dragging themselves out of bed, scrambling to get their things together, or—like Sevika—already halfway through a grueling morning workout. You’ve seen her in the gym before, that intimidating presence of hers dominating the place as if the weights themselves trembled in her grip. It’s no surprise that she’s known as a beast on the ice, but somehow that intimidating side of her feels like a mask she wears to shield herself from everyone else.

Today, though, you’re not thinking about her as “the girl with a scowl that could cut glass.” No, you’re thinking about her as someone who’s obviously been burning the candle at both ends. You saw the signs yesterday: her eyelids heavy with fatigue, her movements slower than usual as she shuffled to class after practice. She barely participated in the project work, her pencil moving through her notebook in lazy, almost uninterested strokes. That wasn’t Sevika. Or maybe it was. Maybe, under all that tough exterior, there was something more to her that no one ever bothered to look for.

And so, with a sense of quiet determination, you stop by the café on your way into school. The coffee shop is crowded with early risers, but you manage to snag a large black coffee and a bagel. It’s not much, but you know it’s the kind of thing that could make someone’s day a little less miserable. It’s something you would’ve appreciated, so why wouldn’t Sevika?

You make your way to your usual seat in the back of the English class, hoping to catch her before she sinks into her usual routine of silence and indifference. You know she’s already in her seat when you walk in—the space next to her looking more like a battlefield than anything else. As usual, she’s hunched in her chair, hoodie pulled over her head, earbuds tucked in so tightly you doubt she hears a thing.

Sevika’s like a damn fortress, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to break through or just knock at the door.

“Hey, Sev,” you say, your voice a bit louder than usual, in case she’s zoned out again. “Got you something.”

She looks up from her notebook, those sharp grey eyes narrowing at you for a beat, as if trying to read your motives. When her gaze falls to the coffee cup in your hand, her expression softens—just a fraction, but enough to notice. It’s almost as if she’s surprised.

“Yeah?” She grunts, her voice still a bit rough from too many late nights. “What’s this, some kind of pity offering?”

You shrug, not wanting to make it weird. “Nah, just figured you could use a pick-me-up.” You set the coffee down in front of her with a quiet clink, watching as her fingers hover over the handle for a moment before she takes it. Her usual stoic expression doesn’t falter, but there’s something in her eyes—a flicker of something deeper.

“Thanks,” she mutters, clearly not used to someone offering her something without expecting anything in return. You don’t wait for her to respond beyond that. You take your seat and start unpacking your things, giving her space.

The first few minutes are quiet, just like always. You crack open your notebook, getting ready to dive into the classwork, but something feels different today. There’s an odd tension between you two, like she’s trying to figure you out in a way that she hasn’t before. Every so often, you catch her glancing at you over the rim of the coffee cup, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to say something sarcastic or dismissive.

You decide to try again. This time, you don’t just talk at her. You actually listen to her.

“Anything interesting in that sketch of yours?” you ask, nodding toward the open notebook on her desk. “Looks like you’re working on something pretty intense.”

Sevika’s eyes flick to her notebook, where a few jagged lines are scrawled across the page. The artwork isn’t exactly graceful—nothing like the stuff you’d find in a gallery—but there’s something undeniably captivating about the way she draws. It’s raw. It’s chaotic. You can practically feel the frustration that bleeds out of every line.

She hesitates before shrugging. “It’s just a thing. Nothing special.”

The next morning is the same: cold and gray, but this time, you have an extra coffee in hand—two this time, just in case. You stop by the café on your way into school again, and this time, you don’t hesitate. You pick out the same large black coffee and bagel, and you add one more for her. You know it’s a bit forward, maybe even a little weird, but after yesterday, you figure you might as well keep trying. If anything, it’ll be a small act of kindness in a place that doesn’t exactly hand out second chances.

When you arrive in class, you spot Sevika already sitting at the back, just like usual. She doesn’t even look up when you walk in, so you make your way over to her desk. You set the coffee in front of her, waiting for her to acknowledge it. When she finally looks up, she catches sight of the second cup and raises an eyebrow.

“Why the hell are you always trying to bribe me?” she asks, clearly suspicious, but there’s no bite to her words.

You offer her a playful smile. “Just thought you might need it.”

Sevika snorts. “I’m not a charity case, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sit down next to her again, pulling out your own coffee. “But I’ve seen you running on empty lately, and I’m just trying to help.”

She looks at the coffee for a long second before finally taking it. She doesn’t say anything at first, just stares into the dark liquid like she’s trying to figure out what you want in return.

But then, just as she takes a sip, she mutters something that surprises you.

“Thanks… I guess.”

It’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make you smile. You might not have cracked the armor completely, but you can feel the first few cracks beginning to form. And that’s enough for now.

You might not know what it is about her that makes you want to keep pushing, keep trying to get through the walls she’s built around herself. But something about Sevika, hidden beneath all that sharpness and coldness, pulls you in. And you’re not about to give up on her, no matter how tough she tries to act.

•||——————————————————————||•

The first time Sevika offers to carry your books, it doesn’t seem like much at first. You’re leaving your biology class, walking down the hallway toward your next class when, out of nowhere, she steps up beside you.

“Here,” she says, her voice gruff but not unfriendly as she grabs the stack of books from your hands.

“Wait, what—?” you start, trying to hold onto the books, but she’s already too quick for you, pulling them out of your grasp with surprising ease. Her fingers brush yours, and for just a moment, the sensation is strange—unexpected, even though she’s always been a physical presence in your life, in every sense of the word.

Sevika’s eyes flick to yours for a brief moment, watching the confusion play out on your face. A smirk creeps up on her lips, but it’s less mocking and more playful, like she’s enjoying seeing you thrown off balance.

“Don’t get used to it,” she says, her tone teasing but with that sharp edge of hers still there. “I’m just doing you a solid, no big deal.”

You stare at her, unsure how to respond. She’s still the same Sevika—the girl who keeps everyone at arm’s length with her scowl, her tattoos, her armor of indifference. Yet, there’s a shift. She’s not as prickly today. There’s something different, something softer behind the usual harshness, but it’s hard to pin down exactly what it is.

You try to brush it off. “Thanks, I guess.” It’s an awkward response, but you can’t help it. The whole situation feels foreign—Sevika, helping you, even in her roundabout, no-nonsense way.

As you walk side by side, the silence feels comfortable, more natural than it’s ever been between the two of you. The usual tension, the kind that hangs thick in the air between people who don’t quite know each other but feel like they should, isn’t there. Instead, it’s just the sound of footsteps echoing through the empty hallways, punctuated by the soft rustle of Sevika’s hoodie as she moves.

Once you reach your next class, she hands your books back to you without saying much, her usual scowl returning. “Don’t make it weird,” she mutters, turning to walk off, her footsteps heavy and purposeful.

You don’t make it weird, but it sticks with you. The whole interaction lingers in the back of your mind, not in a bad way, but more like a question you don’t quite know the answer to yet. Why did she do that? Was it just a passing moment, or was there something more?

The next day, it happens again.

You’re at your locker, shoving your history book into your bag when you feel a presence at your side. You don’t even need to look up to know who it is—Sevika’s aura fills the space, a palpable thing that both commands attention and makes everyone else unconsciously take a step back.

You let her carry your books again, not because you need the help, but because, for some reason, it doesn’t feel like an imposition. It feels… well, it feels nice. There’s a quiet understanding growing between you two, something that wasn’t there a week ago. It’s unspoken, but it’s there.

The days blur together in a mix of English class, hallway interactions, and little moments like this—moments where Sevika’s sarcasm feels less biting, her teasing more playful than sharp. And as the days go on, you start noticing the changes in her even more.

One morning, you’re walking into class, the usual coffee in hand, when you see her leaning against the wall near the door. She’s not talking to anyone, just standing there, arms crossed, looking like she’s waiting for someone.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should approach. But then, with the casual confidence that’s so uniquely Sevika, she uncrosses her arms and nods toward you, that little tilt of her head that somehow speaks louder than words.

“Got something for me?” she asks, that playful edge to her voice as her grey eyes flick down to the coffee cup in your hand.

Without thinking, you hold it out to her. “Of course.”

“Guess I don’t need to thank you this time,” she says, taking the coffee from your hands with a teasing glint in her eyes.

You chuckle, leaning against the wall next to her. “You don’t have to, but it’d be nice.”

Her gaze flicks to you for just a second, a raised eyebrow the only acknowledgment of your words before she takes a sip from the coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly in appreciation. It’s not a thank you, but it’s close enough.

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, and the two of you walk in together, an unspoken understanding hanging between you. You’re no longer just the “nice kid” and the “badass hockey player”—you’re something else, something undefined, something more.

And that’s the thing about Sevika: she’s not the kind of person you can pin down. Every time you think you have her figured out, she surprises you.

By now, you’ve gotten used to the little rituals. She walks with you to class, books in hand, always a step behind you but close enough that you can hear her breathing. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to make you feel like you’ve made a little crack in her armor, even if she refuses to admit it.

Her teasing has become a part of the routine, too. It’s like she can’t help herself, always needling you, always making fun of your “perky” attitude or the way you get lost in your books. But you’ve noticed the shift—it’s not cruel anymore. It’s playful, like she’s teasing a friend, not someone she can’t stand.

One day, as you’re both walking to class, she surprises you again.

“I’ve been thinking,” she mutters, her voice quieter than usual. “You’re not so bad.”

You stop in your tracks, eyes wide in surprise. Did Sevika just… compliment you?

She catches your gaze and immediately rolls her eyes, the smirk returning to her lips. “I said, you’re not so bad, not that I like you or anything. Get over it.”

You smile, your heart skipping a beat. “Sure, Sevika. Whatever you say.”

The bell rings again, and you both make your way into class, but this time, it feels different. The tension between you two has shifted into something new, something more comfortable, and you both know it.

And every day, as you continue bringing her coffee, as she continues to walk with you to class, you both get a little closer, each moment chipping away at the walls she’s spent years building. Slowly, but surely, you’re getting to the person behind the tough exterior. And no matter how much she pretends it doesn’t matter, you can see it now—Sevika’s beginning to care.

•||——————————————————————||•

The afternoon is just starting to drag. You’re standing by your locker, shoving your history book into your bag with the kind of lethargy that only comes with the final bell of the day still being two classes away. You’re exhausted, not just from the day’s classes, but from the constant grind of high school itself. Your classmates, the ones who still don’t get you, don’t seem to understand that not everyone is out to make the most noise or throw the hardest punches. Some people—like you—just want to get through it all, helping where they can, smiling when they don’t feel like it, and quietly hoping things will get easier. But today is proving that’s not going to be the case.

As you turn to leave the hallway, a group of guys from your gym class snicker behind you. They’re a regular fixture of assholery in your life, always making their rounds to see who they can mess with. Today, it’s your turn.

“You know,” one of them says loud enough for you to hear, “somebody should really tell you to stop being so fucking soft. Like, seriously. You’re not gonna make it in this school with that wimpy attitude.”

You turn back slowly, hoping that if you ignore them, they’ll just keep walking like everyone else. But it doesn’t work. They crowd around you, blocking the hallway, sneering and laughing like they own the space.

“Look at this,” another one mocks, his voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness, “such a fucking goodie two-shoes. Maybe we should give you a medal for being so ‘nice.’ Too bad no one here actually gives a shit about that.”

Your fists clench, but you don’t say anything. They don’t deserve your energy, but it doesn’t stop the anger from bubbling up. It’s the same thing every time—words, insults, the relentless poking at who you are, how you try to be decent. It’s always this way, isn’t it? They want you to crack. To snap. To show weakness so they can laugh at it. But you won’t give them the satisfaction.

Just when you think they’re about to escalate, you hear it.

A voice. Low, commanding.

“Hey,” Sevika says, cutting through the tension like a knife.

You don’t even have time to look at her before you hear the unmistakable sound of a body slamming into metal. One of the guys lets out a strangled gasp as he’s shoved violently into a locker. The group steps back instinctively, surprised by the sudden force. The guy who got shoved stumbles to his feet, a wild, startled look in his eyes.

Sevika’s not even looking at him directly. She’s focused on the others, her jaw set, her lips curling slightly into a scowl.

“I don’t give a shit if you think you’re funny,” she says, her voice cold as ice, “but if you ever talk to her like that again, you won’t be able to walk the rest of the day. Got it?”

The group is frozen for a moment, a strange mix of fear and confusion on their faces. They’re not used to someone standing up to them like this—especially not Sevika. After all, she’s the star hockey player, the tough girl who runs the school with her stare alone. The group stammers out apologies, the bravado slipping from them as quickly as it appeared. They scatter, not wanting to risk getting into her bad books.

You stand there, blinking in disbelief. Sevika, the girl who’s always kept her distance, the one who’s never given you anything other than playful insults and sarcastic remarks, just fucking stood up for you.

Your heart hammers in your chest, and your mouth is suddenly dry.

Sevika turns to you, her shoulders relaxed now, but there’s still that fire in her eyes.

“You okay?” she asks, and her tone is softer, more genuine than you’ve ever heard it before.

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… yeah. I’m fine.”

She looks at you for a moment, eyes scanning you for any sign of weakness, but there’s none. She doesn’t apologize. She never does. But the way her lips tighten slightly, the way her brows furrow just a little—it’s enough. She’s not expecting you to say anything. She doesn’t even seem to know what to do with herself now that she’s done this. She’s Sevika, and she’s not used to letting people get close enough to care.

You can’t help but smile a little, a warmth spreading through you despite the rush of adrenaline still pounding in your chest. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” she says, turning away and heading down the hallway. “Just… don’t be such a soft target next time.”

You watch her walk away, your thoughts racing. Sevika had always been this untouchable figure—at least, to you. You were just the quiet, well-meaning kid in the back of the class who didn’t stand out. But now… now, things were changing. You didn’t know how or why, but you felt it.

Later, in English class, the usual noise of the room fades as you take your seat next to Sevika. She’s quiet today, almost too quiet, like she’s avoiding looking at you. You don’t push it. Not yet. But when the teacher starts droning on about something you’re not really paying attention to, you feel the familiar shift in the air.

Sevika leans over slightly, her face unreadable. The classroom is loud, with people chatting and fiddling with their phones, but for a moment, it’s just the two of you.

“You know,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “you’re the only person I actually like being around.”

It hits you like a punch to the gut. You freeze, blinking at her in shock. Did she just…?

She glances at you, her eyes fleetingly meeting yours before quickly looking away, like she’s regretting saying anything at all. She lets out a frustrated huff and slouches in her seat, rubbing her forehead like she’s embarrassed. “Don’t get all weird about it,” she mutters. “I’m not trying to—”

You can’t help it. You’re flustered, but at the same time, your heart swells. You’re not even sure what to say, so you just laugh softly, trying to play it cool. “I’m not. I just… I didn’t expect that.”

She shoots you a side-eye, her usual scowl pulling at her lips. “Yeah, well, I don’t usually say shit like that.”

You can’t help but smile, even though you feel a little like a fool. “You’re not so bad either, you know that?”

Sevika huffs, but there’s a small, almost imperceptible softening in her expression. “Whatever. Let’s just get through this class, alright?”

And just like that, things feel a little different. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable anymore. It’s familiar, like you both know something now—something unspoken, but undeniable.

And as the bell rings, signaling the end of class, you both pack up your things, side by side, in a way that feels completely natural.

•||——————————————————————||•

You were pretty sure that when Sevika agreed to go out with you, she didn’t quite know what she was getting herself into. Hell, you didn’t either. You didn’t expect this—this unspoken connection that had grown between the two of you, or the idea that the girl who used to shove people against lockers and made it clear she didn’t give a shit about anyone might actually want to spend time with you outside of school. Yet, here you were, standing at the entrance of a small café after school, anxiously looking at the clock and waiting for Sevika to show up.

The awkwardness hit you like a freight train as soon as you heard the familiar heavy footsteps of her boots on the concrete. She came to a stop in front of you, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a slight scowl on her lips. The look in her eyes was a mix of challenge and something else—something more vulnerable that she refused to acknowledge. She’d agreed to this date begrudgingly, and you weren’t sure if she was regretting it yet, but you sure as hell didn’t want her to.

“You’re late,” you say, trying to keep things light, hiding your nerves behind a teasing smile. You’ve never been good with first dates—not even close—but if you were going to do this, you were going to do it with your usual charm.

Sevika raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that’s almost as if she’s about to retort with something snarky, but she just shrugs, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t gonna rush for you, y’know. Not that you’d care.”

You blink, a little caught off guard by the lack of bite in her voice. She’s usually so sharp, so defensive. It’s almost… sweet. No, you’re imagining it. You must be.

“Fine,” you laugh. “Come on, let’s go inside before we both freeze our asses off.”

Sevika hesitates for a moment but then steps past you, pushing open the door with the same carelessness she’d shown with every decision in her life. She doesn’t look back, but you can feel the silent invitation to follow her. You take a deep breath and follow her into the cozy café, the smell of fresh coffee and warm pastries filling your senses.

“Not what I expected,” Sevika mutters as she looks around, her eyes scanning the room like she’s assessing every angle. “This place seems… soft.”

“Soft?” You raise an eyebrow. “It’s a café, Sevika. Not a fucking boxing ring.”

She scoffs at your response, though there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Don’t get too comfortable. I don’t do cozy.”

“Well, I do,” you say, taking a seat at a small table by the window. You feel the tension in your shoulders slowly start to ease as you glance out at the street, watching cars pass by. “But I get it. Not everyone likes this sort of thing.”

Sevika slouches into the chair opposite you, not exactly relaxing but not standing either. She glances around, eyes darting over the simple décor with an almost bemused expression. She’s so out of her element, and you can’t help but admire the way she wears it like armor, pretending she’s cool with everything, even when she’s not.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence feels like a heavy weight, but it’s not uncomfortable—at least, not for you. You wait for Sevika to break it, because you know she will. It’s the way she is. She always has something to say, even if it’s just to fill the silence with sarcasm.

“So, this is your idea of a date, huh?” she finally asks, voice low but amused.

You shrug, leaning back in your chair. “I’m a simple person. Not every date has to be some grand, expensive thing.”

Sevika tilts her head, scrutinizing you like she’s trying to figure out your intentions. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to do this every weekend.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you tease, a grin spreading across your face. “I’m just happy you showed up. Not many people would take me seriously when I said I wanted coffee instead of some fancy dinner.”

There’s a long pause before she nods. “Guess I’m not like most people.”

No, she’s not. Sevika has a way of doing things that doesn’t make sense to anyone else—she’s rough around the edges, unapologetically herself, and honestly, you admire that. She’s everything you aren’t, and maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to her. She’s not afraid to be the person everyone else fears. But right now, sitting across from you, she’s just Sevika. No tough-girl persona. No hockey star. Just a girl trying to figure things out like anyone else.

You place your order—coffee, naturally, with a slice of cheesecake because why the hell not? You know Sevika will roll her eyes when you ask for dessert, but it doesn’t stop you from making your choice. As you wait for your order to arrive, you both settle into a strange kind of rhythm—her occasional snort of laughter at something you say, the way she subtly relaxes the more you talk, as though she’s actually enjoying this time with you.

The conversation is clumsy at first, filled with small talk and awkward pauses, but slowly, like a puzzle slowly coming together, you both start finding your flow. You joke about your terrible math grades, and she complains about the bullshit demands of hockey practice, the tension of being the best player but also constantly fighting to prove she’s more than just her image. You listen, and she listens to you. In a weird way, this is easier than you expected.

“You know,” she says after a while, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup, “I don’t usually do this. Hang out with people like you.”

“People like me?” you repeat with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know, the ‘goody two-shoes’ types,” she says, using air quotes with a slight smirk. “The people who care about everyone and everything. It’s… exhausting to be around.”

You’re taken aback by her honesty, but you can’t help but smile. “You think I’m exhausting?”

“Sometimes,” she admits, eyes glinting with mischief. “But it’s… refreshing, I guess.”

You’re not sure if she means that as a compliment, but something inside of you swells at the idea that she sees you differently. There’s something strangely tender in her words, even though she’s trying to play it off as casual. You chuckle. “You’re not so bad either, you know.”

Sevika tilts her head, eyes narrowing. “Don’t get all soft on me now.”

“No promises,” you reply, grinning.

The evening goes on with more laughter, more teasing, and moments of awkward silence that you’ve both learned to embrace. By the end of it, you’re not entirely sure when the awkwardness started to fade away, but it has.

the two of you stand outside the café, your breath visible in the cold air. Sevika tucks her hands into her jacket pockets, her expression unreadable.

“I had a good time,” she says, avoiding eye contact, her voice strangely soft. “Not that I’m saying I’ll do this again. Don’t get too fucking comfortable.”

You grin. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Don’t expect you to turn into a total softie or anything.”

She smirks at you, but you catch a glimmer of something in her eyes that makes your heart race.

“Maybe not,” she mutters, but there’s warmth behind her words that she’s not quite ready to admit.

You stand there for a moment, neither of you moving. For once, the silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s comfortable. There’s a connection here, one that feels like it’s been building without either of you fully acknowledging it.

Before you can think too much about it, Sevika steps forward, her hand brushing against yours as she walks past you, her fingers lingering just long enough to make you wonder if it was on purpose.

“See you tomorrow,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You watch her walk away, a grin tugging at your lips. You may not know where this is going, but for the first time, you’re okay with that.

The next day in English class, you sit down at your usual spot, your mind still spinning from last night. You glance over at Sevika, who’s doodling something in her notebook, her lips curved in a faint smirk. You can’t resist taking a peek at what she’s drawing, and to your surprise, it’s a small, simple heart—next to your name.

You catch her eye just as she looks up, and she immediately shuts her notebook. “Not a word out of you.” She grumbled with her typical scowl.

You can’t help but laugh. But as she turns back to open her notebook again, you notice the warmth in her eyes—something real, something you know she doesn’t show anyone else.

You smile to yourself, knowing that despite everything, Sevika’s starting to crack, and you’ve never been more thrilled.

•||——————————————————————||•

[juletheghoul]

covetous

a/n: Jesus Maggie, you really called me out on my bullshit for this one. Originally I want this story to just be a bunch of sexy encounters in a morally questionable world, now we're talking about feelings and love and how the hell did we get here? (This is how I would imagine him the first time he sees his Girl) Please enjoy this un-beta'd, barely edited request. All mistake and errors are mine! please enjoy

Warnings; 18+ no minors, Marcus pov, vague but big-legal age gap, there's no actual sex, but memories of it, vulgar yet romantic musings, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 1.1k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

War is easy. It’s a language he’s fluent in, something he excels in. He is blessed enough to have survived more battles that he could count and has been more than rewarded for his prowess. Battle plans, marches and military strategy are almost second nature, the fury, the heat of battle, all that he can anticipate and it’s probably the main reason he’s come this far in his life. 

Soldiers, camp life and brutality, those things are easy for him to understand.

Other matters, love, affection, attraction; these things are…harder. 

Physically, he’s perfectly adequate. He's never been ignorant to his looks, or his build. He knows that he fills the societal ideal for a man. He’s broad, he’s strong, he has a good face and no physical flaws.

He’s never been short of attention from the fairer sex either but that doesn’t mean anything as far as he’s concerned. He’s had his trysts, and he thinks he might have even been in love before but his luck seems to stop, and stay within his vocation. 

In his younger days, he’d broken his fair share of hearts, he’d been gifted the virtue of many a virgin in hopes of tempting him into a marriage. None of them had held his attention for more than that one night, and sometimes, in the late hours wherever he found his rest he secretly feared the Gods might be punishing him. Withholding the partner he hopes to find as payment for those broken hearts left in his wake. 

As he grew older, wiser and more practical he learned to ignore that little emptiness. He saw it more as a blessing. Would he be where he was now with a woman waiting for him? Would he have hit his station with children bearing his name pulling at his thoughts in the middle of battle? Perhaps the Gods had simply made a trade. His life, or his heart. 

He’d been content with his lot in life, until he’d seen her. 

She’d served at a gathering he’d been loath to attend. His eyes tracked her, the shine of her hair, the curve of her hip, her pretty smile. Her eyes had locked with his for half a heartbeat and he’d felt it in his belly. A rolling, like waves in a stormy ocean. 

She’d gone about her business, efficiently fulfilling her duties while the guests all spoke animatedly around him. He’d joined in after reigning in his reaction, but she’d taken every ounce of his attention with her. 

He’d negotiated her purchase the next day. 

-

She was quick. She learned everything faster than a lot of the others in his service, and she seemed to anticipate his needs before he spoke them. Most of the time, he barely needed to say anything at all, and so he kept quiet. Kept his thoughts, and his feelings to himself. 

His biggest need though, was her. He wanted her bad enough to hurt, to ache.

He was well aware of the practices in other houses. Slaves were there to obey, and in most houses that meant obeying with work, and with their bodies. He saw no issue in this, it was the way of the world. No matter how badly he wanted her though, he couldn’t make himself order her to spread her legs for him. Maybe it was a foolish, childish thing but he wanted her to crave it just as he did. He wanted her wet, he wanted her begging for him, he wanted to see pleasure and lust on her pretty face. 

He wanted her to want him. 

A year passed, and every second in her presence was exquisite torture. A torture he submitted himself to freely and with a perverse pleasure. It was a test of endurance, until the fateful night she’d come to him with her wet tunic, all of her body on display through the sheer fabric. The shadow of her cunt had sent him into a frenzy and when she’d come back and caught him fucking his fist he’d thought it was just another form of punishment. 

It was that look on her face though, that heavy lidded, open mouthed way she stared at him, nipples hardening that had finally made him crack. 

That first night he’d taken her, he’d stayed up in his bed, almost blinded with want. Her body had not alleviated the craving for her, if anything, it’d only made it worse. He’d replayed their encounter over and over, obsessed with the taste of her on his fingers, obsessed with the feel of her lips on his. From then on, she’d only cemented her hold on him. Her quiet obedience, her subtle seduction, the way she’d managed to scrape the shape of herself onto his brain.

She’d made herself the figurehead in his mind, the holy place at which he prayed, the Goddess he served. If he could, he’d light a thousand candles at the altar of her cunt, and pray to them daily.

He fought harder to return to her, he took note of her wants, of her preferences, and made sure to cater to her, despite no one in the house, not even her realizing. He dismissed the younger boys that lusted after her, he was covetous of her to the point of violence. A small smile from her could dictate his mood. The thought of her in pain made him feel like some feral wolf caught in a trap, ready and willing to chew part of himself away to reach her. 

Sometimes, after he’d spilled inside her, he’d let her fall asleep in his bed and relish the way she clung to him in her sleep. It was a double edged sword though, their stations in this life. A part of him fears that her want is only an act, a way to endear herself to him, her Dominus. A foundation to earn her freedom, or coin, or influence through him but then he sees the shy way she smiles at him and his fears are silenced to nothing. 

She cannot fake the way she flutters around his cock, she cannot pretend to feel nothing, not when he sees the same jealousy he feels shining through her eyes at the mention of the mostly political proposals he’s denied. The things she says, the way she takes her pleasure from him, all of these things only compound his delusions that just maybe, she feels for him a fraction of what he feels for her. 

It’s a sort of madness, truly, how that part of him that was the perpetual soldier had in so many respects switched their roles, had given her a control–a power he was sure she didn’t realize she had. 

He was sick with want for her, ravenous, and yet unable to soften himself in a way that would make her see the truth, make her see just how much she truly meant to him. He couldn’t make himself show her, that whatever she asked of him, he’d do with a smile.

For now at least. 

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[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 19: Overstimulation

Pairing: (G)I-DLE Miyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,411

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Tone it down, dadd—oh…”

If only these people knew what’s with Miyeon right now—well, it doesn’t matter because you’re the only one who’ll get to know what lies beneath her.

It’s not even surprising and more than a being less of an expectation—Miyeon’s as just as naughty as you remember and it’s within your accord to punish her or make her life a living hell.

“You show up like this, then you’ll face the consequences.” You grit your teeth as every word is villainous, willing to break her demeanor into a whimpering mess until she can’t contain it anymore. You play with the buttons on the remote as clenched her thighs from time to time, feeling such rage of pleasure that’s becoming too much but you didn’t care—you will make her learn a lesson, no matter if it’s going to be just exclusively the both of you or in a public restaurant and guess what, it’s only getting started.

“P-Please, daddy—hngg, ahh—no, please t-tone it down…”

You scowl at her in aims to intimidate her, making her feel a bit of regret yet at the same time, she’s loving this as much as you do but Miyeon knows to herself that she doesn’t want to end up in a filthy predicament in a public place.

“You did this to yourself, Miyeon—” You can hear small whimpers as the vibration gets worse with your own control, as with that, she’s just fighting the urge to erotically moan as she’s feeling too much pleasure right now that can’t eat her food right. “—then deal with it.”

You could sense how she’s getting drenched right now and how needy she is because of your actions—you like the sight of this, her pretty, submissive face begging for you to stop is just a sight to behold and to be treasured. Of course, you won’t give her even an ounce of mercy as her pleas just fuels the fire inside you to further tease her.

And so, you did.

Her hands shiver once you’ve increased the intensity of the toy shoved up in her ass, and with that, she can’t fight the feeling of such euphoric essence and let out almost-inaudible moans that could possibly turn on any other men that could lie an ear to hear it. With her iron wall still standing strong, she manages to still fight it yet it’s impossible to ignore the gratification it gives her—it’s clear that she’ll soon collapse and you’ll like to make it evident, probably leaving a mark of her own juices onto the restaurant’s sofa as you smirk while getting such spoonful of your food because of your evil plan.

You won’t give her some time to breathe as you play within little-to-no vibrations up the maximum one at random intervals and with that, it’s all converging to what you had in plan as Miyeon lets out such ragged breaths with the pleasure running down her veins. With her begs for you, you absolutely dismissed any chance of being merciful to this greedy slut—you will always learn your lesson for not falling for her tricks anymore, and let her taste her own medicine.

You’ll live her up to that epitome of an oxymoron—make her life miserable yet pleasurable, at the same time.

“Excuse me, waiter—can you please come here for a second?” You then call the gentleman just feet away from you as you want something that will satisfy your needs and probably, even Miyeon’s. You then reach for the menu beside you as your eyes scout all over the beautiful pictures of food and labels, deciding on what dessert you may want to call this a day. “Can I get uhm… your signature chocolate cake, just a single slice and oh, what’s yours, Miyeon?”

Of course, you’ll make the pleasure-ridden girl fight for her dignity for her own chances of survival and to further test her, when she’s ordering, you’ve set the vibration meter to the maximum as it goes well according to plain—Miyeon herself is visibly struggling but manages to pounce her way through her struggles, her demeanor full of sophistication and class (maybe add a little stutters but didn’t do the trick) as the waiter didn’t even suspect of anything that may feel off. As soon as the waiter said that he will be back for your orders, Miyeon’s breath of relief can be seen evident as she manages to battle with the pleasure that can ruin everything, glaring at you because of it.

“Daddy—w-why when I’m o-ordering—hng, just why?”

“Don’t you like the risk, Miyeon?” You bat out such venom-laced words, your tone sinister as you intimidate her with your own control. “Like I said earlier, you’ve got yourself into this now bear with it.”

You then continued to tease, marking her to be still on the verge of letting her profanities be released from its concealment and you will make her punished for this.

It’s only getting started and this will be such an interesting bit if she’ll manage to stay sturdy with her faulty demeanor…

---

“B-But why at the r-restaurant, daddy? I was on the verge of cumming too, but just why??”

There she goes with her own frustrated remarks—well, just so you know that you expected this long ago, knowing how your teases earlier can make her feisty because she’s on the verge of a possible predicament, which you may find hilarious.

Just for context, Miyeon love going out with you with an added twist, making it kinkier for herself and you, knowing that she trusts you, decided for you to control the buttplug inside her in times where it’ll be safe and you know you’re not a merciful guy when bestowed a tool for punishment. Well, maybe she wouldn’t take this chance again as you took it for granted but here’s the thing—you’re always in control and things go onto your own accord and you’re just utilizing and testing her for your amusement and her torment.

Of course, deep inside her, she’s not tormented at all and rather even loved the way you played with her, dangling off to the edge of the cliff, affording risks that would’ve gone wrong if speculated but the both of you didn’t, so with the given conclusion, it was just right to do such things for both delighted emotions.

“Don’t lie to me—you loved this shit, Miyeon, you always do.”  You snap her into the reality of things, making her eyes open to swerve out to the lane of hypocrisy and make her face that she loved this—you can see it in her, those glowing orbs filled with lust and temptation, it’s all in her.

“I did but—not t-there, daddy! What if the waiter suspected something?” No one suspected anything, not even a single hint of evidence was seen.

“What if someone found out about this and made fun of me?” Chances are slim to none about that; there’s no way on earth that they’ll know Miyeon has a vibrating buttplug up in her ass.

“What if they smelled something off on the couch?” Maybe they may but it wouldn’t be obvious, and there’s nothing they can do about it as it already happens—nonetheless, they won’t even speculate a thing.

Maybe it’s just Miyeon becoming embarrassed and overthinking things that shouldn’t be—you know how uneasy and how these things can’t easily brush off her mind. Reassuring her, you told her that legitimately, nothing is left behind and there’s no way she should be embarrassed, but rather find it rather an opportunity to test her will and her mental strength to endure her own idea.

“Now you made me really horny, daddy—then do something about it…”

You sigh deeply, knowing the inevitable will soon come for another filthy climax between the both of you yet of course, you need to tame her down to the passenger seat as you have business of keeping eyes and your attention averted all towards the road and you’ll sure make her needs completely fulfilled.

“When we get home, Miyeon. I’m going to fucking ruin that tight hole of yours and of course, you.”

---

When the night settles, everything falls dark, onto the lustful abyss of no-return and the both of you would absolutely indulge onto your deepest desires, no matter what may happen. Maybe, no one can stop the both of you unless yourselves and to further seal the debauchery, the both of you settled onto your deepest, lustful hunger between both parties, lips clashing together like you’ve been deprived of each other’s tastes for epochs.

“You definitely improved, Miyeon…”

“Learned from the best.” Miyeon smiles at you, feeling proud with what you’ve created her to be as you further indulge onto the kiss again, locking tongues and dominating each other with aims for the other to fall in submissive yet that won’t you—it’ll be Miyeon. Soon enough, oxygen will be the ones to be blamed as you pull yourself out of the embrace of her soft, luscious lips and with the tension in the air rising until it’s damned to be in that elevation of lust. Miyeon, with her patience growing low, proposes her long-awaited needs for you as you took this as her vulnerable spot as everytime she pleads for something, she ends up falling submissive and you’ll do that again for like, a hundredth time. With the prey latching onto the trap of its feral predator, you caught it and seized that opportunity as didn’t even bother escaping but rather, submerging onto her needs.

“You want that, Miyeon?” She yelps with your proactive attempts to further make her succumb onto the pleasure, playing with the controls of the remote as her thighs quiver as soon as it vibrates around her prostate. “Now strip for me, Miyeon—better do it quickly since you’ve made the feeling mutual since the beginning.” And she would be glad to start you off with her to blame as the first one. No hesitation can be seen from her face as she strips her clothing whilst visibly struggling due to the intense gratification coursing down her veins caused by the vibrating buttplug that’s up in her ass.

It didn’t really take that long to undress herself because of how easy it can be undone and how skilled she is, fulfilling your needs of a sight of her perfect, impeccable body. You’re not going to lie, that outfit of Miyeon is simply elegant and simple that you don’t want her to strip it away but it must be done, knowing how it’s way better when those are on the floor, and her scrumptious, naked body is all on your sight. With her last defense down on her body, your eyes lit as you’re allured with the incredible sight of her tight body—her perky breasts, slender waist, breedable hips, supple butt and as the cherry on top, her succulent, dripping pussy—and swiftly approached her, before grabbing her wrists and pinned her down to the bed with not much effort because of your strength.

“You wanted this so bad, hm, Miyeon?” Your fingers then trace towards the porcelain skin of her body, up to neck then down to her nether regions in which she can’t help but let out such sultry moans as the pleasure is starting to get more intense because of your actions. 

Again, you’re a man of your word—not merciful; selfish with your own needs and what comply with those? To stimulate her further than what she can take and you’ll let her achieve that in no time.

Well, there’s already that mind-boggling headstart with the buttplug’s constant vibrations that sends multiple magnitudes of pleasure throughout her body and with your hands constantly caressing and fondling what skin you may find to further send her your regards of affections, she can’t help but just submit onto your control and continues to voice out the intense feeling of gratification.

“Oh—ohh, r-right there, daddy—ahh, t-that feels so g-good!” Miyeon mewls in pleasure as you continue swiping your fingers onto her clit and fondling her perky breasts, aiming for her to reach an incredible sensation of delight even without a deep penetration. Miyeon knows how your fingers can make her cum inevitably hard and you’re probably on the right track with that—you know deep inside that she likes it so much but you won’t get her into that high that easily.

Now, coursing your way onto the delectable treat that no dessert can’t top off, you latch your lips onto those succulent pussy of hers and gave it multiple pecks before letting your tongue do the action, the final enemy raging its way onto nearing Miyeon’s high and even though she wants to fight the urge, she can’t as there’s too much that’s happening that she can’t think straight—all she can do is moan and call out your name, too drowned in the sea of pleasure with no aims of going back up.

The inevitable mellifluous nectar runs down like rivulets onto your tongue, lapping every drop and savoring it as you hum insatisfaction, further stimulating her as you get onto the remote again and play with the controls of the buttplug. You can hear the constant buzzing sound of it as you voraciously eat Miyeon and it further adds to the filthy essence the both of you are exuding, as well as Miyeon’s angelic cacophony of moans. It repeats all in a cycle: caress her waist, lap your tongue against her lower lips, stimulate her clit with fingers, play with the controls, and so on until she becomes a whimpering mess. Her juices constantly flow freely down your mouth, your chin and some of the ungrateful ones messing up the bed sheets and the sullied sight of this while eating her out should be treasured, unlocking another filthy memory.

Of course, this would be her Achilles’ heel—your tongue, that pink-fleshed culprit is the bane of her tough will as it always sends her defenses crumbling down into a state of complete eradication, leaving her vulnerable for more tricks up your sleeve.

And just like that, in less than approximately four minutes—maybe it’s just your gut feeling knowing the nigh-accuracy of the time—she’s going to be achieve one of her long-awaited highs after being edged by you for so long as she continues to voice out how near she is.

“Oh n-no—I’m n-not gonna hold on for so l-long!” Or will she?

It’s within your own accord, your own regulations—no needs will be attended first unless it’s you; you’re to only one who gets to an orgasmic trance first before Miyeon, and that, she would’ve known that before she clouded her mind with pleasure (saying if she can even think straight because of the utmost gratification).

“Daddy!! Why’d y-you stop??” Miyeon whines, responsively because of your actions ceased to deny her high, which made her a little frustrated because of an enormous spike suddenly meeting the trenches of the lowest points possible. You smirk in delight because of your sinister advances, turning off the vibration and pulling your tongue and your mouth out of her sweetness and this, is just the beginning of the show you’re directing—of course you’re the director, the obvious control over her is a strong evidence, piece beautifully for the best, erotic output.

“It’s time for the main event, Miyeon, that’s why.” You rose up from your previous kneeling position as you quickly stripped your clothing, wanting to be equally as naked as the beautiful goddess in front of you. It didn’t take that long for your clothes to be deemed useless on the floor as you fondled her perky breasts, letting out another series of angelic moans that will make any man submerge onto their needs and to totally ruin the girl in front of them.

Well, you’re on the verge of that, and you’ll make this worth both of your time.

 “You know how badly you made daddy horny, right?” Miyeon nods as she looks at your eyes, endeared by the affection you’ve bestowed on her as her eyes glint with lust and anticipation, fully-invested into what you may have in store for her. Her hands immediately coursed its way onto your muscular arms, giving herself a leverage for the pleasure she’s been fighting since the beginning and now with your rock-hard shaft finally adding to the play, it’s time to make this a tale for more years to come.

Well, yes, in that context because you’ll treasure this moment until the end of time, because every session with Miyeon is just peak-class and ecstasy. Your cock then runs onto her lower lips, teasing it as well as setting the buttplug onto a moderate vibration, aiming to fully stimulate her before the main event. Growing yourself impatient as your needs are becoming too much for you to bear, you won’t help yourself but sink into your lustful desires.

“Then you’ll get what you want, Miyeon…” You didn’t give her some time to comprehend what’s happening and further lock onto the lustful fate of yours, plunging your entire length deep inside her and immediately picking up a moderate pace for the both of you to savor and relish. She cries in your own control over her, being too stimulated with your masterclass as everything is just overflowing her needs—the constant fondling of her mounds, your lips latching onto her neck and collarbones from time to time, the buttplug vibrating to massage her prostate and further turn her on and the constant ramming of your length inside her, hitting every spot that it made her almost scream every time your head hits her womb. 

This almost feels like a fever dream and somehow, way more enchanting than your past sessions—maybe it’s because of her added quality of moans, voiced by the toy that she has up her ass since earlier and the sight of her erotic, lewd face making such expressions of lust makes everything go higher than your expectations. You won’t dare to complain but rather, indulge onto a better pace as you grip her hips harshly, further pounding her into the mattress with a newly profound pace that’s maybe able to break the speed you’re hips was expecting to muster—such breakneck velocity was caused by your own need to sully her, and you would to end her up into that kind of a mess, a disheveled, ruined mess of a goddess.

Also, it’s always such a pleasurable and an addicting act to be inside Miyeon of all times, disregarding such intimate and anticipating foreplay because of her utter tightness that makes you love her even more. The way those velvety walls clench around your rapidly-thrusting shaft is such an elevating experience of delight and lust that you can’t ask for more, and rather, you’d love to make it frequent. Frequency is an understatement, because it has been always the case in every thrust you do but you wanted more, so, you gave her barrages of spanks as every time you do it, you can feel her walls inevitably clenching and making the session hotter and maybe even more pleasurable to be true.

“Fuck m-me harder—ahh, daddy—ohh, please!!”

“Of course I will, Miyeon—” You grip her hips like it’s about to get bruised as you lean down closer towards her ear, and whisper, “—I’m going to fill up this slutty pussy, up to the hilt.”

Given your words of fulfillment, you double the efforts your hips can maintain and fucked her like an animal, and like how she deserves it. Of course, your hips won’t be the ones only doing the work to stimulate her, as you set the maximum vibration of the buttplug as well as your hands caressing every inch of her body as much as possible. Her senses are now at her all-time high, having the most gratification she’ve felt all throughout the year and it’s just enchanting to feel how everything may seem surreal but it isn’t—it may elevate more than reality itself but everything is real, and with all of that pleasure coursing down her veins, the inevitable wouldn’t take long to introduce itself.

“I’m s-so close, daddy—gahh, please l-let me cum, please! Oh, please, dadd—oh fuck, please!” Constant pleads can be heard ringing around your ear the further you fuck her into oblivion. Now just being able to utter the same words and phrases as your cock made her thinking limited because of being clouded with sex, you wouldn’t want to hear her redundant pleas and would rather fulfill her needs and to make her a whimpering mess.

“You really want to cum on my cock, Miyeon?” A simple question, but bound to break such barriers of hesitance and can portrays thousands of emotions of lust and without even thinking about it, Miyeon nodded at you as she continues to repetitively moan in need and with her juices constantly leaking out on you like a broken faucet, you know it’s time for her anticipated orgasm. “Then cum on my cock, you gorgeous slut—”

And she did, instantly. Her face exudes such epitome of lust and eroticism that you can’t define the beauty beneath it—it’s just the paramount of it as she’s in pure ecstasy, and maybe even you. You pull out of her tightness as she sprays her treasured nectar all over the vicinity: your cock, your pelvis, onto the bed sheets and some, landing onto the dark, marble floor. When she’s still on her high, you brush your cockhead onto her pulsating lips as every inch was blessed by her juices and once her orgasm has subsided, Miyeon herself insisted to even finish it all inside her, to the point where nothing will be wasted and can’t go back, only indulge yourself into the filthiness that the both of you dived into.

“Fuck m-me hard, d-daddy—please, fuck me hard—oh god, fuck!!”

She doesn’t need to tell you about your harshness and your rapid pace as you read her mind and immediately, does so as you repeatedly gave the fastest thrusts your hips can muster, wrecking and ruining her tight cunt like you have something to prove her—you’ve already proved yourself to her ages ago, and maybe, this will just another rough treatment of pounding her until she can only think about you and your throbbing length.

Knowing that the inevitable will soon come on your side as you can feel it running down your loins, the familiar tingle signaling the near coming of your orgasm and it wouldn’t take long before you submerge onto it. Wanting Miyeon to achieve her high again—she’s also getting close because of too much stimulation because of your actions and the constant pulsations, clenching and her utter wetness are such evidences to know how near she is to achieve that high—you work onto fondling her perky mounds and latched your lips onto her taut buds, kissing and pecking it in order to make her brain go haywire and with her profanities being constantly voiced out, you know it’s going to be near and this would be the paramount of the show.

“God—are you g-going to cum again, Miyeon?”

“Yes, d-daddy! Please c-cum inside me too—I k-know—gahh, y-you want to—fuck, please, d-daddy!!”

Not going to hold anything just to savor the feeling, you will embrace the inevitable as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt as you fall onto your deepest desires, shooting your treasured seed deep inside of her as you fill every inch of her velvety walls full of your cream. The both of your groan in every spurt you deposit inside her pussy, letting both of you exchange such lustful plethoras of sinful compliments towards each other as she holds your arms and smiles at you, loving how this moment is being unveiled into a messy one and will end up on that note too.

After exchanging breaths and beautiful smiles laced with bliss, the both of you shared an intimate kiss as both your lips embraced with aims to show the utmost affection and love between the both of you. Even with the differences and being bugbears, the both of you still show how much you love each other and it’s all pristine and genuine. You deepen the kiss as your primal instincts kick in but it wasn’t nearly aggressive, but rather full of your intimacy and passion towards each other and with your length gradually getting flaccid, you pull out to her only to be met with a view of her folds full of your semen, creaming her beautifully as some of it are seeping out and staining the sheets underneath.

“You c-came so much daddy—filled me up so well…” Miyeon voiced out enervated, and you, smiling with the fact that she always loves being filled up by you and how your loads are consistently making her feel the utmost serendipity inside her.

“Of course—” You caress her cheek and fix her disheveled hair, then smile gleefully at her as you feel the utmost affections towards right now that you want to give her anything in this world. “—all of that because I love you…”

Miyeon blushes from that thought and knows it’s all genuine because within the refulgence of your eyes, it shows how much she means to you. Miyeon then catches you off-guard with a kiss on the lips as she voiced out her exhaustion and drowsiness. “I love you t-too, daddy but, can we please sleep and cuddle tonight? I feel sleepy right now…”

“If that’s what my baby wants, then why not?” You then laid down beside her, and pulled her into an embrace as you didn’t even bother to do anything rather than feeling the warmness of her body complimenting yours.

“Don’t you wanna shower, daddy?”

“Maybe later, Miyeon but for now…” You caressed her cheeks again, stroked her hair and continued, “Let’s just feel each other—cuddle each other, alright?”

With the softness in your heart, you made everything end on a good note as you can already feel Miyeon sleeping onto your chest, her impeccable features all in your sight as all you can feel is how much you adore her and not so long after, you feel yourself succumbing onto your drowsiness as this marks as the end of another spectacular day, maybe hoping for an energizer once the both of you wake up… or maybe even more than that…

[deadsetobsessions]

Cassandra Cain wandered. It has always been so, it will always be so. The moment she clutched the bloody remains of her own freedom in her hands, Cassandra flew and flitted between the cracks of the places she finds.

The only thing that ever made her stay was her dad and their family. The only place she ever settled in for more than a scant number of months was Gotham.

But they’re in a place- a universe- Cassandra could never return to, could not follow, because they had forbidden her to do so. Tim’s grip on her arm, two textures of bloodied skin and torn gloves, told her everything he wanted to say. Her little brother all but shoved her through the crack between planes and universes, and begged her to live with fearful eyes and the grim set of his shoulders.

She has never been good at denying Tim.

The first few weeks were… difficult. She ran- liberated a boat, from men with sabres and cruel hands- and learned to feel the desperate pull of freedom on her hands amongst the waves. She was lost, adrift, silent in her grief. She could be free. She has never been freer. But Cass had never wanted to be free from those she claimed as her own.

Cassandra was built and trained to survive. To walk into a fight and come out the victor, no matter the cost. So she adapts and overcomes and tries not to wallow in her grief.

This new world was different. Brighter, in many ways, than her home dimension. Not that it was hard, considering her home was a wasteland by now, with the moving corpses of what once was her family. The former vigilante knew better than to take it at face value. The brightest places tend to have the darkest shadows. And so, she travels, looking for a purpose. Looking for Hong Kong, because she’s well aware she’ll never find a Gotham again. She braves the sea, travels in between groups of pirates and struggles to understand the slips of sounds that did not make sense to her. It was like before Bruce found her all over again and Cassandra tried a little to learn like how he would have wanted her to. But it is hard, and spoken language was never important to her, never necessary. It was relevant only because her loved ones deemed it important.

Then, she finds a boy on an island, whose words were simple and who was always warm-welcoming-happy-free.

Predictably, Cassandra learns the word “meat” right after learning his name. He was like… the sun. Bright, bold, and unfettered in his will. More stubborn than her brothers and sisters, a feat Cass had not thought possible outside of Gotham, and more than Bruce, only because he could not be swayed by logic. He was Monkey D. Luffy and he wanted to be freer than anyone else.

“Join my crew!”

Cass could not kill. She could not be a pirate.

“Shishishi!” He throws his head back when he laughs, and Cass can tell that he means it. That he thinks her silly for-

“Then my first mate won’t need to kill! We’ll be strong enough to leave people alive! That’s your dream, right?”

Cassandra is breathless. She is still. And- maybe Luffy doesn’t have the training she does, but he understood. She could read it in the lines of his shoulders, the way his rubber limbs don’t snap. She couldn’t believe that she would find anyone that would understand her will to never kill, not after dad, who had wrapped her in shadows that whispered safety and understanding-

“You wanna be free and you want to help without killing! I’m gonna be the Pirate King, and the Pirate King’s crew’s gotta be the free-est! And we can help people if they pay us in meat!”

- but Luffy was a supernova and Cassandra believes.

“Okay.”

“YES!” Luffy roars with happiness, grin wide as the glow in her heart. “I GOT A FIRST MATE!”

——

Cass contorts herself into the barrel- not a difficult feat, since she was already small to begin with- and sighs. She pokes Luffy’s forehead before lightly tugging on his cheek, stretching the skin a bit, in a small scolding.

“Awe, nap time!”

Cass sighs, too familiar with the antics of a chaotic younger brother.

[moosesarecute]

Part 6: The Shadows Sing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

Azriel didn’t know why he felt so shocked.

He had seen her use her shadows, but he didn’t believe himself. Shadowsingers were so rare! It didn’t make sense that they were two alive at the same time.

His head was spinning.

He was almost 500 years older than her, so maybe it wasn’t that weird that they were two?

She had rushed out the cabin once more. However, she let her shadows stay behind.

“Can you ask them to go away from my mouth?” He asked his shadows.

“They’re scared,” they answered.

“Tell them we won’t hurt them or their mistress,” he continued.

Azriel wouldn’t dream of hurting you. He couldn’t even think about you being hurt without going a little feral.

“They say that when Pretty Eyes’ feelings are too strong she has control over them, so they can’t let go right now. They know you won’t hurt them.”

Azriel realized something important.

“She can’t usually control them?” He asked.

“No, master,” his shadows answered. “Only hide, talk to and shadow walk.”

So she’s a secret shadowsinger and she can’t control her shadows. Doesn’t sound like an easy life.

He felt himself worry about her.

She didn’t eat, she lives alone in dangerous forests and she couldn’t control the shadows that basically was connected to her body.

“They want us to help her,” his shadows told him.

“With what?”

“Surviving.”

He had waited for her to come back for over two hours before he left. He soon realized she was doing her best to spend as much time as possible away from her cabin.

He left the rest of the food out for her to eat when she got back.

She hadn’t eaten a lot for breakfast. Azriel expected it to not be because she didn’t like it, but because she wasn’t used to having that big portions.

He hated thinking about that.

He felt himself distant the entire day. Cassian easily beat him in combat training and he didn’t manage to follow any conversations during the evening’s family dinner.

In the end, he decided to step out on the balcony to get a break. His head was spinning with thoughts.

Y/N was so young! But she still must have lived through many horrors. She must have gotten her shadows somehow. Also the naga that bit of her foot must have been traumatic. And the fact that she didn’t dear to tell anyone about her being a shadowsinger. Someone must have terrified her.

He hoped that someone wasn’t him.

He heard the door to the balcony open. The steps told him it was Nesta.

“Can I sit?” She asked him.

He just nodded and moved over to make place on the bench he sat on. She sat down.

“Cassian’s worried about you,” she stated. “I’m too. You’ve been distant lately. More than usual I mean.”

Azriel guessed he had been spending a lot of his free time away. Either in the library trying to learn about The Middle or in The Middle trying to learn about you.

“Soooo,” she continued. “Who’s the girl?”

Azriel turned to look at Nesta with an eyebrow raised.

“You’ve been way too smiling lately,” she explained. “I think everybody knows there’s someone. No one has just dared to ask.”

Azriel suddenly realized how much he needed to talk to someone about you. He felt lost. He wanted to help you, he had promised your shadows that he would, but he had no idea how.

“There’s this female,” he started. But he suddenly didn’t know how to continue.

“You’re dating?” Nesta asked.

Azriel thought for a few moments. But he was so overwhelmed by all he was feeling for you, he couldn’t communicate.

“She hadn’t even tasted chocolate for cauldrons sake!” He almost yelled out. “She’s young, she hunts for a living, she has basically no food and she hadn’t even tasted chocolate.”

Nesta only looked at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t usual for him to have such outbursts.

“I saw her on the battlefield against Hybern and have been dreaming about her ever since. And then we met again and I have done my best to get to know her, but she’s terrified. But I just can’t leave her alone.

“I’ve also recently found out something else about her. Something that changes a lot. But she won’t ever let me help her.”

It was Nesta’s turn to think.

“If she’s been living in survival mode for this long, it might be hard for her to realize that something is wrong,” Nesta tried to explain. “If she hasn’t had anyone to trust, it won’t be easy for her to trust you. If she hasn’t gotten help from anyone before, she maybe doesn’t realize you want to help.”

It did make sense.

Y/N acted skittish and she definitely had trust issues. Azriel wanted to be the person that you could trust. He needed to make sure you were save and happy in your life, but he knew you were under too much stress to life a good life.

“You have to make her realize you can help her, without you needed anything back from her,” Nesta said. “You have to learn her to ask for help.”

“What do you know about the hunting group in The Middle?” Azriel asked Rhys.

It had been a week and he still hadn’t dared to go back to you.

He had spent his days being busy with missions and told himself that he’d been too busy to visit you. Even though he knew that he did have time, but was too nervous to go.

The fact that you’re a shadowsinger too made him nervous.

He didn’t like to know that she would understand the horrors he’d been through. She’d been through similar things.

He also hated that she’d been traumatized enough for her to get her shadows.

He really wanted to hold her.

“I don’t know much,” Rhys answered. “They were forced to hunt for Amarantha, so that’s when I heard about them first.”

Azriel felt his chest lit up with anger as he realized you’d gone through terrors Under The Mountain.

For 50 years you’d hide your true powers from the most powerful person at the time. It’s not weird you lived in survival mode.

“They had to give weekly reports and they always sent the same female. The poor girl was only 18 when it all started. She had a hard time to say at least.”

Azriel felt his heart stop. Y/N was turning 70 years soon. She would have been 18 at the time Amarantha took over.

He could throw up.

Rhys had known about her?

“To be honest, I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Rhys continued.

Rhys had known about her and didn’t try to save her? He felt himself start getting mad at Rhys. This young female had gone through way too much.

“Did she have a prosthetic leg?” Azriel asked before he could think.

He needed to know.

“Yeah,” Rhys said nodding. “She had lost both her wings and her leg. Surprised she’s lived this long.”

Her wings?

Her wings!

She wasn’t only a shadowsinger, she was illyran. An illyran that lost her wings.

“How did you know that?” Rhys asked him.

He felt himself getting angrier and angrier. He tried to hold back, but he soon felt himself wanting to yell at Rhys.

Before he could start, his shadows came storming through the door.

“Pretty eyes, help, friends, help,” they were screaming at him.

Before Rhys could utter another word, Azriel had shadow walked away.

He landed in the middle of your cabin. But you weren’t there.

“Where is she?” He asked his shadows.

He soon felt something pull his wrist. He looked down and realized it wasn’t his shadow. It was a lot lighter than his, a lot smaller as well, but its determination and pull was as strong as his own.

“Can you show me?” He asked it.

He didn’t wait for an answer as he covered himself in his shadows and prepared to shadow walk away.

He landed besides a lake and soon saw you.

You sat on a stone just a few meters from the lake. You were soaked and shivering.

But what worried Azriel, was the fact that your shadows were out.

They immediately surrounded him, pulling him towards you. Azriel followed their pull. He moved slowly, trying not to startle you.

He crunched down next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge him. Your shadows moved back to you. They swirled close to you, obliviously trying to warm you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he whispered. You still only stared straight ahead. “Can you hear me?”

When your only reaction was to start shaking even more, Azriel sprung into action.

“I’m going to shadow walk us to your cabin, okay?” He asked, but he knew you wouldn’t answer. “I’m going to pick you up now.”

He moved towards you and carefully lifted you up into his arms. He made sure to move slowly, so that you could move away or signal for him to stop if you needed it. You were so light and little in his arms. He wanted to hold you forever.

To his surprise, you only snuggled deeply into his chest. The warmth that spread through Azriel’s chest lasted for multiple days.

As he landed in your cabin and carefully sat you down on your chair.

“Can you ask them to change her clothes?” He asked his shadows.

He watched his shadows intertwine with yours as they spoke. It was a weirdly wholesome to watch his companions, they looked extremely happy and relaxed.

“We’ll have to leave, but they’ll change her,” his shadows informed him.

He felt himself grow stubborn. He wouldn’t leave her, he couldn’t leave her. Not in this state. She was freezing and shaking, he needed to help her. He felt such a deep need to protect her. He wouldn’t leave her. They’d have to throw him out.

“We just have to wait outside,” his shadows informed him. “We can come back in later.”

Azriel realized just how much you meant to him.

Azriel had spent the longest three minutes of his life waiting in his shadows outside your cabin. When your shadows came to get him, he basically ran back inside.

They had helped you into your bed and had tucked you into a blanket full of holes. You had stopped shivering and you had gotten some color on your cheeks.

However, your eyes were closed and your chest raised and sank in a comfortable speed. You were asleep at home and Azriel felt himself calm down.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1

[coolshadowtwins]

I have this au that just kinda… drops off half way through, which is why I haven’t posted it before. But I can’t think of anything else for it, so you get what little there is!

SXY manages to survive the poison when giving birth. Maybe it wasn’t as strong, maybe she managed to cut it off early enough, maybe LBH’s demon blood helped. Who knows. The point is, she is now half dead instead of fully dead, in a lot of pain, and has a newborn baby because she just gave birth! She’s just thinking about doing her original plan- sending LBH down the river- when a nice washer woman comes along and finds her.

I’m going to call her Ms Luo for this, since she doesn’t have a name in canon. Ms Luo is a kind woman! She’s kind of enough to take in a baby she has found in the wilderness, and she’s kind enough to take in this dying, half feral cultivator and her newborn baby as well!

SXY doesn’t trust it- obviously. But she doesn’t get much of a say when she falls unconscious, does she, hmmm? And she stays in and out of unconsciousness for the next few days, at least. The poi didn’t kill her, but it did mess her up. I imagine for this au it would limit her lower mobility, if it was trying to kill the baby. Some bad nerve damage there.

But Ms Luo is here! She doesn’t have much, but she does care for the baby as SXY is unconscious. She tries to get medication for SXY as well, but isn’t successful. Just as well- normal medication wouldn’t do much for what’s wrong anyway.

And this is the new normal that SXY wakes up to- a week plus later, her cultivation (which also would have taken a hit) having done its best at repairing the damage, her lover and the father of her child either dead or sealed away out of reach, and at the mercy of this random washerwoman.

She’s not getting any better until she could see a sect doctor, preferably one of the best ones. But that’s never going to happen- she’s wanted now, surely! Demonic sympathizers were never treated well. (The cultivation world thinks she’s dead, tragically killed by TJL. But she doesn’t know this yet.)

So she does the only thing she can- hang around and help Ms Luo out. She can’t leave, not with her mobility issues, nor would she be able to provide for her baby. But she can stay here, under the kindness of this woman, and try and help her out.

She starts to help wash the clothes- don’t have to be standing for parts of that! To save on food, she focuses her limited cultivation so she doesn’t have to eat the limited supplies they have. She’s terrifying, and she’s uses that to her advantage when intimidating Ms Luo’s shitty boss.

Ms Luo repays her by not only letting her live there, but also helping with LBH, giving SXY a new name to hide with, and her friendship. (SXY will never admit it, but she never had a lot of friends. Having one in Ms Luo was… nice)

LBH, meanwhile, is absolutely loving being raised by two moms. He’s learning to cook from Ms Luo, and learning cultivating from SXY. What else would a young boy need?

And then LBH is ten, and Ms Luo gets sick. Like, really sick. Nothing SXY, in her limited medical knowledge, does helps her. The town doesn’t have a clinic, and the nearest one is a while away. Not only that, they don’t have the money to go. SXY can see only one way to help her friend- go to the one place that (probably) wouldn’t turn her away for being a criminal when there’s a life of the line. CQM.

Cue a travel montage of SXY (who has limited mobility), Ms Luo (who is deathly sick), and LBH (who is ten), trying to get to CQM before it is too late.

They do make it there- only to be stopped at the stairs. They aren’t stopped by an actual person! They are stopped by the actual stairs. SXY can’t walk them. Ms Luo can’t walk them.

That leaves LBH, ten and scruffy and probably looking too thin, to be the one to climb the giant staircase, up to the sect in the heavens.

The last thought I have of this au is the funny image of whoever happens to be at the top of the stairs that morning, being greeted by what looks to be a street urchin tell you that his mother is the long thought dead SXY and that she’s down the stairs, along with his other mother (by the way, he has two), and both are dying. Would you believe him?

(I have nothing after this. Please, tell me in reblogs and replies about how you would continue this)

[heliads]

I’d like to request a Pietro imagine. Pietro survived and became an Avenger. The female reader doesn’t have powers and isn’t an Avenger. She’s really smart and works with Tony and Bruce in the lab. She was hired after the whole Ultron fiasco. People underestimated her intelligence in high school and college because she’s a girly girl and loves the colour pink, but the Avengers aren’t like that. Pietro likes her and wants to date her.

'waiting around' - pietro maximoff

masterlist

When they tell Pietro he has to go to the labs, his first thought is to run.

He knows it’s silly. These are not the same doctors who made the Maximoff twins strong and fast and utterly alone in this world, these are the scientists with the Avengers. They’re the good guys. Apparently. But Pietro has learned fairly quickly that people calling themselves good aren’t always good in the end.

Pietro has a lot of learning to do since he and Wanda escaped Ultron a few months back. He’s doing his best to be patient and take things ‘one step at a time,’ as the Americans keep telling him. Mainly, he would like their steps to be faster. Pietro has things to do, and they don’t usually involve waiting in line for someone else to decide if he’s worthy of their loyalty or not. The Avengers are trying, he knows that. It’s just hard sometimes.

Especially when Pietro is still trying to shake off the feeling that he should have died back in Sokovia. He came away with his share of narrow escapes, but there was one moment towards the end, when the ships were firing at him, when Clint needed his help, that Pietro thought would be his last. Luckily, he was faster than a few bullets, but there’s still this nagging voice in the back of Pietro’s subconscious that whispers to him late at night:  what if you hadn’t been fast enough?

So he’s been uneasy as of late. What about it? Stress is common in inhumans and Avengers, one glance around this coffee-dependent complex could tell him that. Still, it’s a good thing to get checked out. That’s part of the reason Pietro is being directed to the labs, along with a need for a good annual physical.

It sounds good, too, were it not for the fact that Pietro has had plenty of experience with laboratories in the past few years and none of it was good. The Hydra labs made him strong, in a sense, but they were torturous. He can still remember the pile of corpses ushered out every day, the experiments that failed. He remembers curling up in a corner of his cell, begging his body not to give out, not to make him another body in a bag. He lived, but he remembers.

This is not Hydra. Pietro knows that. He left them behind. Still, there will always be some part of him that shrinks away from every syringe, that distrusts every doctor who comes poking and prodding at the bizarre novelty that is an inhuman. That will never go away, no matter who’s side he’s on.

Still, the lab remains. He has to go in, the others will know if he doesn’t. At first, Pietro hesitates just outside the door, afraid to knock, afraid to listen. There was always a chill in the air throughout the Hydra complex, he remembers the gooseflesh forever on his skin. Signs that nothing good happened within the walls. Or maybe it was just because of the stone buildings in cold climates. Everything has an explanation.

He can’t back out now. Pietro grits his teeth and swings the door open in one broad movement. For a moment, he stands there, waiting to walk back into his old cell, his old life, and then he looks around and realizes with a grin that he’s going to be fine. This isn’t a Hydra ploy to get him back under their thumb. For one thing, Hydra never used this much pink. Just barren walls and gloomy, monstrous skull logos. In retrospect, that should have been a bad sign. Pietro has a problem with ignoring details, though, and it tends to get him in trouble.

These details, however, are quite difficult to be ignored. Everywhere Pietro looks, he sees pinpricks of pink– the handle of a pipette, labels on equipment, notebooks full of scrawled data points, hair ties in a carefully organized container. No, Hydra never had this much fun, and Pietro is starting to think that this is going to be very fun indeed.

Smirking to himself, Pietro weaves further through the lab. He sees a few assistants scurrying around in the back, but they pay him no mind so he does the same. Pietro almost reaches the end of the room when a sudden voice calls out to him:  “Don’t take another step.”

Instantly, Pietro freezes. The owner of the voice walks towards him, a young woman about his age in a lab coat. She must be the owner of the lab, too, because he spots a pink tie in her hair matching the others near the door. The name stitched onto the left breast pocket of her lab coat reads Dr. Y/N L/N, so Pietro knows she’s the one he was supposed to find.

She points to Pietro’s feet, where he notices are just touching a line of caution tape on the ground. “If you went any further, you’d be at risk of getting your eyes blinded by the lasers,” she informs him cheerfully.

Pietro’s face drops. Only now does he notice the hazard signs. “Huh. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Y/N arches a brow. “Do you always wander around lab space without watching where you’re going? Seems like an awfully dangerous habit for me.”

Pietro grins. “Well, I usually rely on my reflexes to get me out of trouble. I’m pretty quick.”

To prove it, he uses his speed to instantly move right behind the woman. She spins around, donning an indignant look that Pietro decides is very cute. “Don’t do that,” she scolds him.

Pietro folds his arms across his chest, grin broadening. “Why not?”

“I’ll tell Steve you’d like to do some weight training with him in the gym, and you think you can outlift him,” she threatens.

Pietro feigns surrender. “Anything but that, please.”

At last, Y/N’s lips twitch up into a smile. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, let’s focus. Tony sent you in to get a checkup, right?”

Pietro nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wrong,” she tells him. “Tony actually sent you in here to get on my nerves. He does that a lot. I’m busy and he likes distracting me. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible, alright?”

Pietro has to fight not to laugh. “And here I thought everyone in the labs gets along.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Most of the time, yes. Except when he sticks me with babysitting duty.”

“This isn’t babysitting,” Pietro protests, “I’m getting to know you. I already feel like we’re the best of friends.”

Something that might be a smile flits across Y/N’s face, but she takes great pains to hide it to him. Pietro, who has always cared a little too much about getting people to laugh at his jokes, follows her like a dog as she walks through her lab. “You can laugh, you know. It won’t kill you.”

The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Pietro instantly wishes he hadn’t said a word. “I’m working right now,” she tells him abruptly. “That means I’m focused. Don’t get in my way.”

Surprised and somewhat hurt by her shift in mood, Pietro goes quiet, but he can’t resist asking a second later, “I’m not trying to interfere with your work, I promise. Does that often happen?”

Y/N goes still. Pietro is half expecting her to just ignore him when she finally speaks at last, very quiet and very unlike the fiery personality he’d seen before. “Every time someone new comes in here. And with half the people I’ve already met, anyway. You’d be surprised what a few pink accessories can do to someone’s reputation, and their credibility in a lab.”

Pietro grimaces. “I’m sorry about that, honest. That’s not what I was going for, by the way. I joke with everyone.”

At last, Y/N meets his eyes. There’s a faint tint of humor swimming in her gaze. “I think I got that.”

She’s smiling, though, so he takes that as a good sign. Once that initial barrier was crossed, Y/N opens up a little more, and then Pietro finds himself stopping by her lab almost every day when he’s not off on a mission. He sees her thrilled with success after an experiment worked, and desolate when they don’t. He sees her consumed with stress. He sees her brow knit with careful concern as she patches him up after a mission. Through all of it, Pietro is increasingly risky with his heart, and then one day, he knows he loves her.

It’s a foolish thing to do. Y/N has confided in him many times that she’s afraid people only will see her as a girl first and a researcher second, someone who can be taken out for drinks but never a valid source of knowledge. If he makes his move now, she’ll never forgive him for being just like the others.

So he doesn’t say a thing, and descends further and further into hopelessness. Wanda says he’s ridiculously obvious, but Y/N still doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing, so maybe the only person more oblivious than Pietro is Y/N, and that’s saying something. Pietro doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, but as the days slip by and Pietro only falls more in love with her, he wonders if he hasn’t already ruined it by always wanting more than he can have.

He’s starting to wonder if he is simply going to carry this secret with him forever, until Y/N catches him at it one evening. The night is growing late, and Pietro has retreated to one of his favorite hiding places in the Avengers complex, Y/N’s lab, to watch her conduct her experiments and indulge in some idle chatter. They’ve grown quiet, and Pietro is leaning against a benchtop, doing nothing but watch her. Some of the motion-sensor lights in the corners of the lab have gone off from inactivity, giving the lights above them an extra glow. The light plays upon Y/N’s face and makes her eyes shine.

Pietro is just thinking that he’s never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life when Y/N looks up and catches him in the act. Instantly, Pietro pretends as if he’d simply been watching her pipette some samples into the well plates in front of her, but her brow is already furrowing and she’s asking him what’s wrong.

Pietro shrugs elaborately. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.”

“Really?” She asks, grinning slightly. “I didn’t think that was a normal thing to you.”

Pietro rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” Y/N hums. “What were you thinking about? You seemed very preoccupied.”

“Nothing,” Pietro repeats, but Y/N doesn’t seem convinced.

“Come on, I didn’t think we were the type to keep secrets from each other. What are you trying to hide?” Y/N asks.

Pietro scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Even better,” she says, laughing slightly. “What is it?”

Pietro should stay silent, but he can feel the secret rising up his lungs and forcing itself out before he gets the chance. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts out.

Y/N’s eyes widen. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it obviously wasn’t that. “Oh,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” Pietro says, wanting to stab himself in the eye with a nearby multitool. “Oh.”

He eyes the door, and has just decided that a strategic retreat is the best move when Y/N interjects, “I love you too, you know.”

Pietro turns around so hastily that he almost upsets a nearby rack of micropipettes. “What? You do?”

She’s glancing at her work, but he can tell that she’s embarrassed. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

“Obviously I didn’t, or I would have done something about it,” Pietro blurts out.

Y/N glances up again, smiling again. “Like what?”

“Like take you out on a date,” Pietro returns. “How about it? This Friday. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

Y/N laughs. “That sounds good to me.”

It sounds good to Pietro, too. When he leaves Y/N’s lab at the end of the day, he’s practically giddy. All this time, he was afraid of telling her, and now he’s wishing he spilled his guts much earlier. Regardless, he has what he wants. They’ll have their date, and Pietro is going to feel like he’s on top of the world.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 6

Hello world!

So this is the new chapter for Mockingjay :)

Unlike what I said before, the Games are starting in this one, I was a little bit tired of them being in the Capitol and wanted a little more action!

I hope you will like this chapter and enjoy it. Please let me know what you think about it ♥

TW : Fight, weapon, blood, death. It's the Hunger Games, after all.

Also! I made a map that you can find at the end of the chapter, if you want to see what I imagined :)

Please don't make fun of it, it took me one all night to do it.

Chapter before

Saying goodbye to Lucy last night was something horrible for Ona. She was glad to find no one in the living room when she came back to their quarter. She then took a shower and went to bed. She didn’t realize that she was crying until she heard someone knock on the door.

Ona was scared to see Tony, but it was only Alexia. The blonde hasn’t asked anything, she just asked Ona if she needed her. Ona needed her, but the brunette didn’t know how. Alexia took care of everything though, giving her one of the gummies to help her sleep and cuddling her all night long.

Breakfast and everything else felt really strange this morning. It was strange to realize that it’s their last meal together, the last time Ona smiles at Leila’s jokes or the last time she changes into her bedroom.

Only today she realizes that Jana might have slept in the same bed.

Ona was taken away by two Peacekeepers from her quarter and it’s Alexia from her team who comes with her. For Tony, it was another man of the team, who Ona doesn’t really like. Ona says goodbye to Leila too, hugging her tightly and thanking her for the way she dressed her.

Just before going inside the Arena, her clothes were checked by people probably working for the Capitol. Ona is a little bit out of it to be honest. Those people could do what they want with her, she won’t say anything. But on the other hand, she knows that Alexia is here to keep an eye on her.

“She has the right to have it. The President said it was okay.”

Ona raises her head when she hears Alexia’s voice, just to realize that the woman in front of her was looking at her pendant with suspicion. But the woman finally nods and takes her hands away from Ona.

“I’ll give you time to say goodbye. May the odds be ever in your favor, Ona.”

“Thanks” Ona mumbles back.

She takes a big breath when the door is closed, turning to face Alexia. For the first time since she knows her, Alexia seems a little bit lost in her feelings. Or at least she’s not as good as she was until now to hide it. She looks sad, her eyes a little watery.

“Come here” Alexia says.

Without hesitation, Ona takes two steps to be in the blonde’s arms. It’s sad to say that she had two of her best encounters just before fighting for her life. But at least she was in good company.

“You can do it, Ona” Alexia whispers, still holding Ona in her arms. “You are clever, you are smart, you are strong. Just don’t take unnecessary risks and don’t fight if you don’t need to. Try to survive and don’t forget everything you had learn about survival”

Ona nods in Alexia’s arms and jumps when she hears a robotic voice resound in the room.

“Games start in 2 minutes.”

Alexia let go of Ona, just to gently take her face in her hands.

“I am honored to have been your Mentor”

“Thank you” Ona smiles back this time. “I couldn’t have asked for a better one. I really hope you will be happy for the rest of your life, with Olga too.”

“Thank you. If we have a girl one day, I’ll call her Ona.”

Ona doesn’t know what to answer, so she just takes Alexia in her arms one last time and kisses her cheek.

“Games start in 1 minute. Please go inside the tube.”

“I’m going to miss you” Alexia says, helping Ona to get inside the tube. “Trust your guts, okay?”

Ona nods once more, biting her lips.

“I’m scared” she whispers.

“You would be stupid not to be”

“Games start in 30 seconds.”

Alexia arranges Ona’s hair and outfit, briefly squeezing her in her arms before backing away from the tube. Ona feels like her heart will explode soon.

“Big breaths,” Alexia says softly. “I trust and believe in you. And I’m already proud of you, no matter what. Just like your family and friends.”

“Games start in 15 seconds.”

“Thank you. Thanks for everything. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then the door of the tube closes itself and Ona feels the ground where she’s standing starting to move. It finally goes up and she looks at Alexia as long as she can. It’s black for some seconds before a bright light dazzles her.

After she blinks her eyes, Ona takes a moment to look around her. There is a red digit count above their heads, counting from 30 to 0. All the tributes are positioned to form a circle, just like the other years. Next to her is Tony, his gaze right in front of him. Ona knows he will try to take supplies or a weapon. She won’t try this, even if it’s tempting.

Ona’s eyes stop a moment on Lucy’s frame, a little more on her left. She never had seen Lucy with a face concentrated like this. Her jaw is tense, just like her body, ready to jump from her platform. She’s not looking at anything but her goal in front of her. Ona turns her gaze, looking for an escape.

She doesn’t know where they are on the map, but she decides to run as fast as possible in the forest behind her. The view seems clear in front of her, meaning she will have trouble hiding. Ona wants to stick with her plan, hiding at day, moving at night.

Reassured by her plan, she stands a little straighter on her platform and gets ready for the ten last seconds before the beginning.

When the shot sounds, it is an incredible cacophony. Screams, shouts and other noises Ona doesn’t know what they are. She hears several shots of cannon too, meaning some of them are already dead. Feeling her heart go down, Ona remembers that it may be Lucy.

But she keeps running, zigzagging through the trees with agility. After some minutes, she’s only able to hear her respiration and she decides to slow down a little. The forest is dark and dense, she’s not used to this kind of environment. Just like they decided with Alexia, Ona looks for a good tree to climb. She finally chooses one oak who has enough branches for her to do that.

She manages to reach the top pretty easily, offering herself a breathtaking view of the surrounding area. There are only trees around her, but it seems to her that she recognizes the shape of buildings in the background. Which would be a first, but at least it’s something she knows.

Ona freezes suddenly when she hears someone running below her. Silently she descends a little bit to try to see who it is. It’s a boy she never had talked to, from the six. He’s pretty young too, but Ona realizes very soon that he’s chased by other people.

He doesn’t stand a chance when they surround him, and Ona closes her eyes just before a new shot of canon. Some minutes later, they are gone.

It’s strange to look at that boy and she’s ashamed of the thought that she still can have a look at what is inside his bag. But he won’t need it now, unlike Ona. She hesitates for several more minutes before going down her tree. She doesn’t look at the bag for now, she just takes it and looks for another tree to climb.

In her quest she goes closer to the city but decides not to go inside for now. It’s still the day and it might have more people coming. Instead, she sits on a branch of the big tree she just climbed.

Then she opens the bags, looking at what is inside. She finds a gourd, rope, metal bowl and small knife. Which is pretty great, to be honest. She wasn’t expecting that much. She won’t be able to defend herself with that knife, but she could cut fruits or small wood pieces if she finds some.

When the night starts to fall, Ona is still sitting on her tree. It’s a little bit boring to be honest, but she doesn’t really have a choice. She hasn’t counted how many shots of cannon were heard, but when the sky is dark, there is this famous music. And then the pictures of the dead people are shown.

She feels sad when she sees that Anna hasn’t made it, her picture white in the dark sky. But Lucy is still alive and that is what matters to Ona. It looks like all the careers tributes are still alive too, just like Tony and Teagan.

Just like she asked herself if she should walk to the city now, Ona hears someone walking near her. She frowns and tries to look without being seen, but she’s just able to see a frame going back to where they started several hours before. Ona decides to use the rope to attach herself to the branch and not fall if it ever falls asleep.

Which seems to be a good idea, because Ona ends up dozing for several hours into the night. She jumps when she wakes up, looking around her just to remember where she is.

Ona waits until dawn to go down from her tree. She even finds a little river to put some water inside her gourd and wash her face and hands. The forest is a little scary in the dark like this to be honest and she’s relieved when she sees the buildings drawn in the sky. It’s something that feels familiar to her. She grew up in this kind of view and it almost feels comforting.

The city looks like an old, abandoned city and she wonders if and how many tributes are hidden in there. For her, it’s the most perfect and secure spot. She feels a little too exposed to her taste, even if the sun isn’t really there for now. The city contains a lot of buildings with at least six floors, what looks like a nuclear factory, some small houses and several warehouses. Everything seems grey and concrete.

Ona chooses a building a little outside the centre that allows her to see the horizon and eventual tributes coming. She doesn’t want to fight, but she knows she will have to at some point.

The door of the building seems heavy to push, and she decides not to enter by it, scared to make too much noise and attract attention on her. Bypassing the building, she eventually found another door and pushes it slowly. The silence is almost overmelting here.

Silently walking through the different floors, Ona finds no one. The building has six floors with two flats on each floor. The last stairs lead to the roof, but Ona decides not to go there for now. She’s certain that no one came here before her. She finds different things, like a lighter (who is working) and a hoodie who feels hotter than the dress provided by the Capitol.

She decides not to wear it inside though, where it’s colder than inside the building. Sighing softly, Ona sits on a mattress on the floor, hugging her knees. She misses Lucy’s warmth. She just misses Lucy. But she’s not sure that the feeling is reciprocating. Ona remembers Lucy's concentrated face perfectly, the way she hasn’t even looked her way.

Sighing softly, Ona presses her forehead against her knees. She doesn’t want to be here, why was she the one chosen for the Games? Why hasn’t she met Lucy somewhere else? Why does Life give her something so strong and beautiful just for some days before taking it back? She wishes that Lucy could hug her right now, she never felt so alone in her life.

Her breath is hot like her tears when she hears a little “bip” coming from somewhere next to her. It makes her jump, and she quickly looks around to try to find it. It’s when she spots it, a little metal box with a parachute. Ona frowns before taking it, she knows what it is. It’s something given by the Sponsors. She forgot that point.

With shaky hands, she opens the box and looks at what’s inside. And she feels her heart jump. It’s dry meat, bread and chocolate, something she can eat later if she wants, but something that will give her the energy she needs. And something that definitely will help her to fight hunger.

There is a little message inside too.

“Keep going, Onita. You are stronger than you think. Love, A.”

She knows it’s Alexia. Smiling softly, she wipes a tear on her cheek and carefully folds the paper in the inside pocket of her bag.  The small paper warms her heart up. She realises at this point that she doesn’t have any weapons and starts to freak out a little bit. She has nothing to fight if someone finds her.

The sun is shining when she realises that she falls asleep again. She needs two seconds to understand what has woken her up and jumps on her feet when she hears several voices coming from inside the building. She’s screwed. She can’t go out of the building because she’s on the last floor and she’s pretty sure that she will die if she tries to go out of the windows.

Ona can’t count how many there are, and she doesn’t recognize any voice until…

“There is another floor.”

It’s Lilith’s voice.

Which means she is here with maybe five other people. Lucy told her that all the career’s districts planned to stick together. She doesn’t stand any chances. Ona is really panicking and looking for a good hiding place. But the rooms are empty, if it is not for a shelf or mattress that is lying on the floor.

Ona finally hides behind the open door and the wall inside what she imagines is the bedroom, putting her hand on her mouth to hide her breathing. She’s so stressed that she’s shaking, and her heart is pounding. She can hear it in her ears.

“I’m going to see the roof” a male voice says.

Ona can hear the footsteps from the boy resonate from the other side of the wall where she is. Another footstep is going in the flat next door, but she can hear someone walking on the same flat that she is.

Ona freezes when she hears the person entering the room. She can’t see who it is. She’s not moving at this point but she’s not breathing either. But she jumps when the person suddenly comes in front of her.

It’s Lucy.

Lucy looks at her right in her eyes, her gaze hard and dark. It makes Ona shivers, Lucy never looked at her like that. Lucy’s eyes were always tender and full of teasing when she looked at her.

But, after several seconds, she slowly raises a finger on her lips to tell Ona not to make any noise. A fraction of seconds later, she’s gone.

“There’s no one here” she says several seconds later, her voice now coming from between the two flats.

She seems irritated, as if someone made her lose her time.

“I was sure I saw someone coming here” another female voice mumbles.

“It’s the last building” Declan points out. “We should go back across the river.”

There is a whisper of general approval and footsteps going down the stairs.

“I hate her” Lucy grumbles. “She’s the first one I’ll kill after we separate from them.”

“Just wait for several hours please” Declan laughs.

Their voices indicate that they are going down too. Ona still hasn’t made any moves, too scared to be spotted by someone else. As their voices are fading away, Ona realises that Lucy just saved her life. Maybe she’s not the only one missing the other, after all?

Ona waits a long moment before going out of the room. Her hands are still shaking, and she treats herself with a little bit of water. She takes deep big breaths too, closing her eyes several seconds to recompose herself. She probably never has been so scared in her life.

Maybe she will be safer in the woods after all. Golden hour is here when she leaves the building, choosing to pass from inside the city this time. During her time in the building, she realises that she was next to the end of the map, the force fields being sometimes visible, especially when they are showing pictures of dead tributes.

The night is almost here when she’s finally inside the woods again. She took the time to grab some fruits that she identified as goji berries. She started climbing a tree when she heard someone running.

From her point of view, she’s able to see the boy from the 5, chasing Teagan. It makes Ona’s blood boil. She knows it’s the rule of the Games, but Teagan is only twelve and that guy might be seventeen.

Teagan is almost fifty metres ahead of him though, her smaller frame making the run in this dark forest easier. Ona doesn’t hesitate to go down a few metres, positioning herself just at the right place to catch Teagan when he reaches his height. The adrenaline helps her to lift him without problem on the tree where it is.

“Up, up, up!” she whispers-orders him, pushing him to go faster.

Teagan hurries to obey and finally the boy from the 5 passes the tree without seeing them, much to Ona’s relief. The girl sighs of relief, but still makes Teagan go higher on the tree.

When they reach a branch strong enough to support both of their weight, Ona finally makes Teagan sit on it.

“Thank you” Teagan says finally, when he has enough breath to talk again.

“Anytime” Ona answers easily.

She looks at the boy attentively. He has a big wound on his cheek which might be hurtful. But other than that, he seems pretty good.

“Are you okay?” Ona asks anyway.

The boy nods and they exchange some news. They stop talking when they hear the boy from the 5 coming back, apparently looking for Teagan. From that moment they whisper more than talk but Ona manages to learn what happened to Teagan anyway.

He was with the girl from his district when they were attacked by the two tributes from the 5. His teammate made him run and she fought the two others alone. It seems like she killed the girl before being killed herself, at least it’s what Ona and Teagan deduce when they see that both of them are dead.

It makes Teagan sad and Ona comforts him, feeling once again relieved to see that Lucy is still alive. Still like Tony and the other career’s district.

Ona shares a piece of chocolate and some fruits with Teagan, before securing him with her on the branch. They decide to take turns to sleep, Teagan starting because he almost hasn’t slept since the beginning of the Games.

It’s strange for Ona to realise it, but it’s relieving to have someone to look after. Teagan is sweet and she appreciates his company. Her fingers go for Jana’s pendant under her clothes, stroking it softly. Jana was sweet and innocent too. Maybe that’s why she wants to protect Teagan, even if Jana was older than him.

She learned at some point during training that he has a little brother and a little sister.  She can’t imagine his parents’ pain about him being here. Suddenly, Lucy’s point not to have children is a little bit clearer for her. She understands why it might be selfish in her opinion to have children.

Ona then thinks about her parents and her brother, wondering if they are watching the Games or if they are sleeping. She knows there are cameras everywhere on the map, but they can only show one thing at a time.

After the heath from her bedroom in the Capitol and the good meal, she feels cold and a little hungry, even if she ate bread and fruits earlier. But she decides to ignore her angry stomach, to look at the stars over their heads.

They are hidden thanks to the foliage of the tree, but she still can watch it. She remembers the nights when Lucy talks to her about the stars, the constellations and the whispers exchanged between them at this point. Ona could name a lot of constellations now, mentally listing them in her head.

“I miss you… So much.” Ona whispers, hoping that if Lucy survives, she will be able to see that moment.

And, of course, that she understands that those words were for her. Because she misses everything about her, and she misses the possible future they could have had together. But it seems to be really far away now.

Little did she know that Lucy is looking at the same stars, at the same time. Lucy is thinking about the same things, and how much she misses Ona too. But she sadly doesn’t have a choice. It makes her desperate, but she doesn’t have the choice.

Next Chapter

The Map.

[berenwrites]

Better Half - Stranger Things - Steddie - PG

Summary: Henry targets Steve - this is a mistake!

A/N:  This started off as a different fic idea, but that morphed into something too long in my head, so this one took over. I hope you enjoy it. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated, thank you. Don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.

Written for prompt: NEW | wc: 517 | Rating PG | cw: none

Tags: Steve has powers, pre-steddie, Vecna|Henry|One

Also on AO3 | ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

Better Half

“New experience, Henry? Must be terrifying to find yourself the helpless one. You chose the wrong victim this time.

“Don’t look so shocked, and give up struggling, you can’t win.

“My name’s Seven, we’ve met before. I’m one of the first batch, Brenner’s experiments he dosed with cocktails of drugs. Everyone thinks only Two survived, I made sure. Papa signed my death certificate himself. I was only five, but when your brain explodes with every thought in ten miles, you adapt or die. My mind fractured, became me and Steve. I took everything I learned from every mind and became unstoppable.

“The world is lucky my only purpose is to protect my better half.

“I took him out of the lab, found him parents and made him forget it all. Poor Steve never could understand why they didn’t seem to love him, but I can’t work miracles, only fabricate memories. We hid and he was safe.

“Until you touched him, you were safe too. It was more important not to alert the government than play heroic saviour. I mean I’ve had to make Russians think they hit Steve more than they did, stop Billy Hargrove from killing him, and a few other things, but it’s all been under the radar.

“You made the ultimate mistake coming in here, into our mind. Out there I can read thoughts and memories like books, make people remember whatever I like, mess with their perceptions on a good day.

“In here … in here I’m God.

“Now we’re going to do three things.

“First, you’re going to free Eddie Munson. Bringing him back to use him against us was a good plan, it would have been devastating to the Party, but you’ve missed your chance. Steve has some unresolved feeling for Eddie he needs to work through, and I want him to be happy. Eddie will be good for him. Someone needs to show him he doesn’t have to be strong all the time. Eddie will give him what I can’t.

“Second, you’re going to heal Max. You broke her, so you can put her back together. We’ll put your abilities to a good use for once.

“Then, finally, we’re going to let Eleven find us, and you’re going to put on a good show of fighting her before we give her the victory she deserves.

“It’s going to be glorious, Henry. A final battle from one of Eddie’s campaigns where good triumphs over evil.

“I told you to stop struggling. It’s pointless and annoying. You don’t want to annoy me anymore than you already have. I’m going to let you die a good death, Henry, don’t make me change my mind. Steve has all our goodness, all our kindness, you don’t want to know what I’m capable of when I’m angry.

“Brenner’s lucky he’s already dead. I’ve had years to plan what I wanted to do to him.

“You have amazing abilities, Henry. Using you like a remote is fun. I should have lured you in here ages ago. Ah well hindsight is 20-20. It’s time to finish this now.”

( My Other fic on Tumblr)

[radlyradar]

How would the companions (minus longfellow) act with a Deaf/HOH Sole Survivor ?

I made this because silly and my sole survivor is half deaf :))

Preston

Preston already has a concept of signed gestures and hearing loss, from trying to communicate around artillery or in battle. He’s even met Deaf/HOH settlers before, but never before has he travelled with someone who couldn’t hear. It takes him a bit to get the hang of communication, learning conversational signs from Sole and making sure he’s in clear view when he talks if they lip read. That being said, it doesn’t change much, he still sees them as that leadership role the minuteman need. He ends up getting Sole to teach passing minutemen signs so they can communicate or trying to teach them all himself once he becomes more fluent.

Deacon

He’s hesitant at first, after all if you can’t hear yourself you gotta be loud as all hell. When Sole proves they can be stealthy though, he changes his tune. They both sign often to keep conversations more secretive and he’ll act as ‘interpreter’ on missions so he can pass by with less attention.

Hancock

Hancock has DEFINITELY met a Deaf traveler before, I mean it’s Goodneighbor. I think he would communicate with writing things, whether on dirt or walls or any available paper. Now that he’s traveling with Sole though, he’s trying to learn so he can communicate easier with anyone passing through Goodneighbor. (Though I think he’s definitely the guy who wants to learn curses and phallic words first).

Strong

He surprisingly doesn’t immediately hate them for it. But he will get frustrated when Sole don’t respond. he eventually figures out that they’ve been signing to him and their responses are all half guesses. He thinks about leaving but then remembers that they’ve lived this long without hearing ANYTHING (this is untrue, you may be able to hear something but he doesn’t know that). So he stays with Sole a bit longer, relying on gestures and lip reading if they can. They both learn that his big hands don’t make great signing and he gives up on learning anything expressive and slowing learns receptively by watching them.

Curie

Curie finds it fascinating, but not surprising that Sole can survive out here. She likes watching them and studying how they function in the world without hearing. When she’s still a nanny bot she very easily learns receptive sign, but when she gets her new body she’s ecstatic to use it for herself and quickly takes to signing back to Sole. She’s a quick stumbling kind of signer though so she can be hard to understand.

Cait

Cait and Tommy are super fucking confused when the person who killed every raider in the combat zone doesn’t respond at first. Her first impression is that they were stupid or playing a joke, she’s never met a Deaf person before. When she and Sole first travel together she finds the ‘what’s, ‘huh’s, confused faces, and or lack of responses extremely annoying. As they travel together though and she starts to realize they really view her as a person she’ll apologize. She never really gets good at sign but she’ll sign small things to you and struggle to understand when Sole signs back. 

Maccready

This guy also already has a concept of sign. But not conversational in the slightest, still, he takes to it like a duck on water. He’s probably ending up the easiest to sign to (other than like Nick) because he ends up focusing on learning sign for like a few months straight and is using it constantly after. He does tell Sole that he wants to teach Duncan when he sees him again or get word passed on to his old home since it could prove useful to Deaf and hearing kids.

Gage

He’s a bit confused at first, and in all honesty considers leaving them in that ratty ass bumper car room, but he remembers that they need a new overboss and it’s not like they haven’t had people with hearing loss in the raiders gangs before. He finds most of the things they do pretty normal, like lipreading and being extra vigilant, hearing can be hard, and words muddle together, it only makes sense that you’d watch someone’s mouth to know what they’re saying- wait that’s not normal? Huh, maybe the years of explosions and gunfire are getting to him. 

He does end up learning sign and finds it a lot easier then verbal communication 

Nick

Nick is already fluent, he knows what Deaf people are from his past memories. He doesn’t even realize he knows sign until him and Sole are talking and he ends up enjoying travelling with them. Nothing much really changed about your relationship. The Kellogg case does become more difficult since they can’t hear him in the memory den

Codsworth

He was with Sole pre war and due to his programming he already understands signing but can’t sign back. He mostly just points and stuff. 

Piper

Thank god for Piper. Due to the speaker entrance chances are Sole wouldn’t get into Diamond City unassisted. But with Piper’s scheme they both got in with ease. She realizes there’s something up immediately and when Sole tells her about their hearing she immediately tries an interview. This of course does not go well. As they travel together she tries to pick up sign but never gets good at it. One thing Sole misses out on are her yap sessions. Don’t get me wrong, she still has them, but they both know that there’s no way in hell that Sole is understanding most of what she’s saying.

Dogmeat

Honestly, he probably won’t notice at first, he protects Sole the same and unless they’re nonverbal he’s probably gonna take awhile. He might just think they’re quiet. After some time though Dogmeat will start listening to and watching for signed command and instead of baking to alert them he’ll paw at their foot or jump and try to catch their attention if he’s too far away and still in view. They both work out pretty well, he’s a good dog.

Ada

Ada has never met a Deaf person and Sole cannot read Ada’s lips so it’s a struggle. They eventually get a similar relationship to the one Sole would have with Strong.

X6-88

What the fuck is this hand language, why is Father not like this? How is this person still alive? So many questions. He’s never met a Deaf person and no one’s told him, they’ve had broken synths who can’t hear, is that the same? He asks a lot of questions, some uncomfortable or kind of rude and honestly sucks at first, but once he gets to know them and realize he’s getting closer to Sole, he apologizes and tones it down. He ends up taking to sign pretty well and realizes how useful it is in day to day as well as battle. He ends up acting as an interpreter if Sole lets him.

Danse

At first he thinks they aren’t listening on purpose, then realizes what’s actually going on. He’s never met a Deaf traveler. Being already bad with people this makes him anxious, which comes off as aggression, but he realizes how much easier it is to be around them. He doesn’t take part in small talk and takes to sign pretty well. Similar to X6-88 he’ll probably ask a lot of questions, some being a bit rude. Though, at least he’ll have shame when asking these at least.

[guacemolyarts]

please please tell me how u perceive ellabs 😭😭😭 from a shipping standpoint😭😭 also i love ur art so much

Abby has always been number one. From being Jerrys daughter, to becoming the WLFs top Scar killer, to leading her entire friend group into a murder plot with her, etc. Abby has always been the one to take the lead and do whatever she wants by her own command because she has never not gotten what she’s wanted. When that attitude got the best of her in the end (her friends turning on her, realizing what they had participated in was fucked up, etc.) she became prideful and cowardly. Lev was able to reinvent that attitude with her by giving her a purpose to protect and love someone more than herself. Lev let her have a break for once, gave her a chance to have her guard down, and not always have to feel stoic. She stood up to the only person who could crumble her *just* a bit (Isaac) and Ellie, who unknowingly had been leading her down a death trap. Even when figuring that out, Abby never backed down, Abby still got the upper hand, Abby still had what Ellie wanted- someone to care about her and her life.

Now Ellie on the other hand? Ellie has NEVER had it easy. Grew up an orphan, was a bit of a loner without Riley, was regarded as a “sad kid” by Winston, the only adult who ever really gave her the time of day. This girl has been searching for love and support her entire life. Despite her bratty attitude and hotheaded tendencies, no matter what, shes always a softie. And when she gets fixated on anything, it becomes her purpose and the force that pushes through whatever situation shes in- on a lighter note, Savage Starlight quotes, on a darker note, Abby. Ellie finds strength in just *doing*. She doesn’t need to force anyone to abide by her order (unless you wanna argue Nora, but even then, what a sloppy attempt at getting her way). She steam rolls any situation she thinks is gonna get her to her goal (jumping off the bridge into the water with Joel, the entirety of Seattle Day 2 and 3, becoming a deadbeat).

And together? You get two women who come from remarkably different upbringing’s and backgrounds, who in the end, crave to care for and to be cared about. Abby who has the explicit need to put herself in any dangerous position, knowing she can get out of it unscathed, with the entire goal of making sure what she cares about makes it through safely. Ellie, who has only ever fought through survival, to not have to do it anymore. Who can just feel protected and at peace. Abby, who is meticulous in her planning and execution, Ellie, rough around the edges and will figure it out when she gets there.

Despite how opposite they are in those regards, they are similar in their unifying need to find inner peace and strive to do their best. Both of them are incredibly strong people- and together, in any dynamic and in any situation they must get through together, I perceive Abby to be the one who is more level-headed, less inclined to blindly walk into Ellies fire, and to take the reigns in any struggle they get themselves in. To guide Ellie down the smarter, albeit longer path, and for Ellie to complain and annoy her to every end because she thinks being safer is worse than being in a rush. Ellie, the tough, agile little moth who learned everything on her own and by Joels hand, who can cut through 7 men at a time and is quick on her fight or flight. Abby, the trained in combat ex-soldier who can wipe out any path she needs to get through just by one intimidating scowl.

This is an interpretation based on canon, i could talk in circled about them for hours. So heres a little tidbit of what i perceive them as as individuals but how those traits work together.

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Viago knew this would happen, deep down.  He’d failed his little sister, letting her fall for a Dellamorte.  They’re cursed, the younger Crows like to say, the small but powerful House that eats alive anyone who steps inside.  Lucanis and Illario were the last surviving of the original bloodline as far as anyone outside the House knows, though he wouldn’t put it past Caterina to have a Song up her silken sleeve.  

And now here they are, with Lucanis dead, his body lying in repose in the Manor, and Elena having cried herself into a fitful sleep while he and Teia keep watch.  He doesn’t believe his little sister is suicidal - Maker, he prays not - but she is rash and impulsive, and he doesn’t trust her not to go chasing rumors to hunt down the Venatori, or worse, go to the Ossuary herself to take on Lucanis’ final contract.

He looks to Teia, who’s stroking Elena’s hair while she sleeps, humming softly.  “We need to do something, before she-”

“What will you do, Vi?  Keep her locked up here?” she asks, her gaze steady.  Lucanis was their friend, but they’re Crows.  They know above anyone else that death is both sudden and unkind.  He just wishes Elena hadn’t had to learn that lesson like this.  

“No, you know I can’t.”  A selfish, human part of him wishes he could.  That he had, that he’d kept her far from House Dellamorte and their curse.  “Just for a few days, till she calms down.”

Teia sighs.  Elena doesn’t stir.  She looks so hopelessly young like this, and his chest goes tight.  “She’ll be alright.  She’s stronger than you think.”  He wishes she didn’t have to be. Damn Lucanis and his charm.  Hadn’t he known?  Hadn’t he thought about this?  What it would do to Elena if he didn’t come home?  Viago forces down the hot spike of anger.  There’s no point in it.

“She’s strong,” he agrees, “But she’s reckless.”

“So were you.”

“I had someone to return home for,” he says, because he knows that as much as Elena loves him, she won’t stay alive for him.  It’s not the nature of their relationship, and he knows too that part of that is his fault.  Even now, he doesn’t know how to comfort her, only how to keep her alive.  He loves her deeply, but showing that love… he was never good at that.  He always kept her at arm’s length, all through their youth, and even now that they’re adults.  It’s his nature, to hide his love, to keep it secret and safe, where it can’t be used against him.  Elena had never been that way, she wore her love proudly, loved deeply and fiercely, and now, all he can do is plead with the Maker that it won’t be the death of her.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Breaking Through:

Future Mrs. Sakusa

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem! Reader (she/her)

Warnings: mild swearing, all fluff

AN: this is an anon request and a sequel to Being Itachiyama’s Manager: Breaking through Sakusa’s Walls. I did change up the request a little from proposing at a game to a more private proposal just because it fit with the scenario a little better 🥰

Well congrats Yn 👏🏻

You’ve made it through your first year as MSBY’s manager

Honestly, your survival wasn’t assured

I mean, just look at the working hazards

*cough* BOKUTO, ATSUMU AND HINATA *cough*

If you don’ constantly hear, “yN i NeEd HeLp” 🙄

But seriously though, acclimating to this team wasn’t your only chore

You were also navigating your relationship with MSBY Spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa

Now as we all know, you and Sakusa have been dating for quite a while

High school, college and now pro-volleyball

Seriously it’s been almost like 5 years that’s you’ve been hanging onto Sakusa

It hasn’t always been easy

His constant concern for germs and his annoyance of his idiotic teammates were a struggle

You’d gone through some tough times in college and beyond

Dealing with losses of games and a grueling Olympic journey

It was a lot to say the very least but your love and commitment to Kiyoomi held strong 💪🏻

Now Sakusa knew he wasn’t an easy person to deal with

Heck before you came along, Komori was literally the only one who could deal with him

You might have been the opposite of him but you meshed well

You learned to deal with his quirks and his need to cleanliness

He learned to deal with you and your extreme desire to keep Hinata, Bokuto and Atsumu alive 🙄

He knew you were the one a long time ago and he loved/adored you more than anything!

He had long been thinking about the next step but he wanted it to be perfect

He knew you deserved the best and he was going to give it to you

He had been saving up for a ring for a while now and he’d managed to keep it all a secret

Until one day when Meian and his girlfriend announced their engagement during practice

He watched as you became so excited for them, giving them hugs and admiring the ring on her finger

“It’s gorgeous!! Shugo you did such a great job!” You cried as you celebrated for your friends and teammates

Sakusa couldn’t help but imagine how excited you would be for your own engagement to him

He loved the idea how you wearing his ring and eventually his last name

And Sakusa wasn’t the only one to notice your excitement 👀

Because Atsumu had seen it as well and being the little shit he is, he most DEFINITELY was going to bring it up

“Sooooo Omi, when are you gonna put a ring on YN’s finger?” Atsumu asked later in the locker room as the team changed

You were happily cleaning up the gym like you did normally, clueless to the entertainment behind closed doors

“Sumu back off! Don’t pressure him,” Barnes scolded as Sakusa tried to ignore Atsumu

Way easier said than done 🙄

“What? I saw how excited Yn looked when she saw that ring! You can tell she’s itching to get engaged. Come on man, it’s been what, like 5 years with her? Don’t you think it’s time to lock her down?”

An audible sigh filled the locker room as everyone tried hard to ignore Atsumu

Again, easier said than done…

“YN doesn’t care about stuff like that! She’s loved Omi and I’m sure she’d be happy if they never got married,” Shion adds as Atsumu shakes his head

“Whatever you guys say but I know women and women want diamonds!”

“Says the man who can’t lock down a girlfriend to save his life,” Meian interjected at the locker room burst into laughter

Sakusa shut his locker, not making a sound as he made his way to the showers

Unbeknownst to the guys, he’d been thinking about asking you and with your anniversary approaching, he thought it would be perfect

Since he didn’t want the stress and potential cover of his operation to be blown, he asked Komori for help

He wanted to make your engagement perfect

He’d come up with the perfect idea and he made the plans to the T

On your anniversary, he texted you saying he got caught up with volleyball stuff and that Komori would drive you too the restaurant

You agreed because you truly believed Kiyoomi was busy

But when Komori pulled up to Itachiyama’s volleyball gym, you looked at him confused

He just shrugged as you narrowed your eyes and got out of the car

You were wearing a beautiful dress, looking like an absolute dream as you walked to the doors

Getting closer, you noticed a picture on the door

It was a team picture from your second year at Itachiyama when you had first met Kiyoomi

You smiled at the picture, remembering how you first grew attracted to the finicky winged spiker

Opening the door, you saw candles, flowers and what looked to be an aisle lined with photographs

You made your way thought the gym, looking at every picture and reliving every memory

They were all pictures come your relationship with Kiyoomi

Your first date, graduation, first apartment, and first day with MSBY

Your eyes began to well with tears as you relived all the memories

Looking over, you saw Kiyoomi standing at the end, looking extremely handsome in a gorgeous suit

“Kiyoomi, this is beautiful!” You cried as he smiled and wiped your tear away

“That’s not all Yn,” he said, getting on one knee as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open

“YN LN, I’ve known since high school that you were the one for me. You’ve put up with me for years, supported me in everything I do and I couldn’t ask for better life partner. Would you do me the ultimate honor and marry me?” He recited perfectly as you nodded, tears streaming down your eyes as you cried tears of joy

He slipped the beautiful ring on your finger and stood to his full height of 6 FOOT 4 INCHES and kissed you 🥹

Honestly dreams!

You spent the night and weekend celebrating with your new fiancé before venturing back to work Monday morning

Sakusa was actually shocked that you’d somehow managed to keep your engagement a secret

Only your families and of course, Komori knew

But that went all out the window the moment you stepped into the gym

“STEP OUT OF THE WAY LOSERS BECAUSE IM THE FUTURE MRS. KIYOOMI SAKUSA!” You screamed, showing your rock to everyone within your eyesight

Bokuto and Hinata 👉🏻🥹🥹😭😭

Meian, Inunaki, Barnes and Thomas 👉🏻🥳🍾🎉

Atsumu 👉🏻😏

Sakusa 👉🏻 😐🙄

Don’t worry Yn, he’s secretly so happy 🥰

[cb-writes-stuff]

I just had a thought.

What if “Scylla” is from Scylla’s perspective? Think about it. We hear Scylla singing in the beginning, but neither Odysseus nor the rest of the crew reacts. Because she’s watching them, they’re sailing through her lair.

“You know that we are the same.” … “You hide a reason for shame.” She’s observing Odysseus, seeing that he’s the leader, that he knows what’s up, and that he’s willing to make sacrifices.

“Leaving them feeling betrayed, breaking the bonds that you made,” … “There is no price we won’t pay.” She does horrible things to live, snatching men from passing ships and consuming them. “We both know what it takes to survive.” She had to cross lines and learn how to survive, and she recognizes the need for the same in Odysseus.

“We only care for ourselves.” She recognizes that all that matters is their own—for Scylla, that’s herself, and for Odysseus, that’s his family.

Here, the music recedes a bit, and Scylla sings the line differently than the others. She heard Odysseus give the order to light six torches, and what she’s only been assuming thus far is confirmed. “We’re lonely demons from hell.” Until this point, Scylla only sang in one voice, with one head, showing a human-like appearance. But now she sings in several voices with all her heads. She reflects what Odysseus did by giving that order, showing who she is “Deep down”—a monster—and bringing it to the surface.

As indicated by Eurylochus’s line, “Captain. Something approaches,” she starts approaching the ships. Before, no one noticed her; she observed unseen, hence why no one reacted to her singing. She then greets Odysseus almost politely, as one would a peer or an equal. “Hello.”

Odysseus shouts at the crew to “Row for your lives!” Scylla pursues, claiming the sacrifices one by one, as can be heard throughout her verse. She sees that Odysseus is running, failing to completely be the monster that he is. So, while she feasts, she tells him what it means to be a monster, but also gives him advice on how to live as a monster, how to live with himself.

“Drown in your sorrow and fears. Choke on your blood and your tears. Bleed ‘til you’ve run out of years.” Essentially, she’s saying “Go ahead, cry about it.” She says those things rhetorically, presenting them as options neither of them actually have, because “We must do what it takes to survive.” As monsters, they must survive. Giving up is not an option.

“Give up your honor and faith.” She stopped caring about right and wrong. She sees that Odysseus is a soldier with strong moral values, and that he must do the same and abandon those values. “Live out your life as a wraith.” Life is hardly worth living anymore, for her. But she’s come too far to simply let herself die. So she’s become an empty husk of herself, surviving for the sake of it. Odysseus will inevitably need to do the same. “Die in the blood where you bathe.” A reference to her transformation into her current state. The old Scylla died in that moment, leaving only the monster. War is sometimes called a “bloodbath”, and Scylla suggests that Odysseus has already killed so many that his journey could be considered one. He must undergo a similar transformation, letting the old Odysseus die (which he has not completely done yet) and embracing the new monster. She then reinforces the reason for doing these things: “We must do what it takes to survive.”

Finally, she talks to Odysseus directly. “We are the same you and, I.” Odysseus responds, harmonizing at “I”, meaning he can hear her. He can’t bear to admit what he is, since he still hasn’t fully become the monster he declared himself to be, which is why he doesn’t harmonize for the entire line.

I am such a nerd for this musical. Still, I don’t get everything right. Feel free to add anything or correct me in the comments.

[metalomagnetic]

WIP Snip Monday

let's pretend it's Monday, and not Wednesday.

Thank you so much for the tag @mundrakan

Here is a snippet from "It runs" (This chapter is so stubborn! I promise I am working hard on it, but it's complicated and real life is Hell, so please, bear with me).

----

“Come back to me, yes, there you go. Breathe," his mother's voice soothes him, drags him back to reality. "Everything will be alright.”

“I-”

Sirius doesn’t understand what happened to him, how seamlessly his mind slipped away, one moment in his home, the next in Azkaban, and now his mother is there, and he's confused-

“It’s alright. I’m here. I know I wasn’t always, but I am here. My Sirius, my brightest star. You’re home, you’re safe. Your brother is safe. That monster is dead. No one will ever hurt you again. I won’t allow it, yes? Breathe.”

He rests his head on her shoulder, tries to breathe normally. He shivers, cold and miserable, but one of her frail arms wraps around his back, draws him closer.

“You will heal,” she tells him. “You will have the best Healers in the world, the best potions, and you will heal. You weren’t there that long, the damage is reversible still, I asked, I asked many experts. You will heal from this.” It sounds like an order.

Sirius always disobeyed her, even if he didn't want to, didn't set out to hurt her. He always ended up disappointing her. He doesn't want to do it again, but that word- 'heal'- it sounds foreign, impossible. It sounds like she's setting him up for failure again, because how can Sirius accomplish it?

“And what potions will heal me from finding my best friend dead? From knowing I had a part in his death?” he whispers, terrified that he has to live with that, forever. That he'll have to find a way to accept it.

How can he? How? It's impossible.

“His son will heal you,” she says, determined, her fingers combing through his hair. “Little by little. You’ll see. You’ll have a piece of him with you. The best piece. Trust me when I say, our children are the best parts of us. What survived of Potter, is the purest part of him, the brightest. And you’ll raise him, do right by him, won’t you? That boy needs you stable, needs your love and care, and he’ll love you back, as only children can love.”

Harry. Yes. That’s true. Sirius will see him soon, will hold him. Tomorrow.

“He killed Voldemort,” Sirius whispers, finally voicing it. It doesn't sound real. “Harry.”

His mother snorts, but she keeps her fingers so gentle in his hair. It makes Sirius remember he once felt safe in her arms. Long ago. So very long ago.

He was sick with dragonpox, so sick, and scared, but she never moved from his bed. She stayed with him, wiped his brow with cold cloths, sang to him, held water to his lips. She hugged him when he shivered.

“Mama, will I die?” he asked, because he’d never felt as sick in his life, and he leaned people can die from feeling sick.

“My brightest star, how do you think I’d let you die? Who would dare take you from my arms? Death? I’d destroy it if it even glances your way.”

Sirius looks into her fierce eyes, and for a moment he thinks his mother is just as strong as his father, perhaps even more, because she seems capable of anything, of scaring death away.

“I may not be the most learned woman in the word, I didn’t go to any Institute, but I have lived for some dozens of years now, Sirius, and I have traveled far and wide, read many books, met many people, heard many things. A baby cannot kill a grown wizard."

Sirius knows. He does. And yet-

“He died," he says, and he shivers savagely. His mother's arm clings harder to him. "I found him there. Dead. In front of Harry’s crib.”

He sees it, all over again. Voldemort's body, his empty eyes, the wand between his fingers.

No, no, no. Stop. Sirius can't, he can't think of it. He bites his tongue, hard, he leans even more into his mother, inhales, and her perfume brings him back from the memory.

“Good riddance," she spits, venomous.

All over Britain, people celebrated Voldemort's death, Sirius knows. 'Good riddance'.

'The monster is gone'.

'Let him rot.'

It's fair, Sirius knows it's fair, that Voldemort caused so much pain, to everyone, his enemies or allies alike.

But it hurts. It hurts so much. He was always alone, that beautiful boy from the picture, the angelic child Sirius imagines, in some muggle orphanage, the fiercest dark lord in the world that cooked for Sirius, that held him in his arms at night. It hurts. It's beyond painful.

“I loved him,” Sirius confesses, and his mother goes still, stiffens all over. “I slept with him. Ate with him. Lived in our- in his home. Will you abandon me, too, now?”

She should leave him. Sirius doesn't deserve anything. He doesn't understand why he still has his family, his sanctuary, when James is dead, when Voldemort is gone, alone and terrified somewhere.

Sirius deserves to be alone, too. They should have left him to rot in Azkaban. It's what he deserves.

She takes a long time to answer. First, she resumes petting his hair, and eventually she rests her chin on his head. She sighs.

Just from that, Sirius can imagine how broken and pitiful he looks, exactly how he feels. He is in such a deplorable state, that she doesn't spit on him, doesn't call him a deviant, a disgrace, a stain on her family name.

“That takes longer to heal from,” she whispers. “Loving a hard, cold man isn’t easy. Even when they are heartless, even when they betray you, over and over again, it still hurts when they die.”

“How long?” Sirius asks. “How long does it take to heal from that?”

She hums. “I will tell you when I have an answer,” she says. “I’m still waiting. You can wait with me.”