#the way he resents her but craves her attention at the same time

[aemondapologistfrfr]

The Family Disappointments

modern!aegon x fem!reader 

Summary: Drinks with a stranger at an unconventional time brings you some unexpected happiness. Sharing the same feelings and struggles allow you to connect on a deeper level that neither of you were expecting. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, group therapy, mentions of addiction, drinking, smoking, drug use, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected 

Authors Note: i fear i’m projecting my want for a cig, sunfyre the cat? sobbing fr

Word Count: 5.6k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I shift my car into park and sigh as I look at the brick building in front of me. I push my seat back and throw my head against the rest. I take a long drag of my cigarette before tossing it out the window and rolling it back up. I rummage through my purse trying to find the first perfume bottle I can. After a couple spritz I toss it haphazardly back into the bag.

I pull the visor down and look over myself rolling my eyes. My hair is slightly frizzed from the day and my eyes have bags that have been residing there for at least a decade now. I grab my phone and start to climb out of my car. I look up at the building with resentment towards everyone and everything. 

I push the door open and eucalyptus and mint flood my nose. The lights are soft and there are candles lit on the receptionists desk. No matter how much I hate this place I can’t deny that it does offer me some semblance of comfort. The receptionist named Nora smiles at me as I walk up to the desk.

“Lovely as ever to see you, Y/n. How are you doing today?” her soft voice hugs my ears. 

“Wonderful, Nora. Thank you.” I wait for her to finish checking me into the system. 

“Please feel free to grab a snack and drink on your way to the room.” she offers me another smile.

I nod my head and walk down the hall. I stop in a brightly lit room to grab a water before I drag my feet in the direction of the elevators. As I wait for the elevator I wonder if my parents would truly disown me if I were to leave this building and never come back. One on one therapy is one thing but sending me to a group is fucking annoying. I would think they wouldn’t want me to divulge their shitty parenting to a room full of strangers. 

“Well are you getting in?” I shake my head clearing my thoughts and see a man with bright silver hair staring at me from inside the elevator. 

“Yeah, sorry.” I mumble stepping into the elevator. 

“What floor?” his hands hover over the buttons and I see he’s going to the same floor as me. 

“Same as you it seems.” I turn to him and look him over trying to see if I remember him from any past meetings and I do not.

The elevator shoots us up and a sigh leaves my lips once it opens on our floor. I step out and the man continues to walk next to me. I turn the corner and walk into the meeting room. Most of the chairs are still empty and I internally groan wishing I could be one of the people not attending today. I claim a seat near the windows and look out at the busy city below us. 

“I’m Aegon.” the man sits next to me and I turn to him and see he’s looking at me expectantly. 

“Y/n.” I say pulling out my phone not really wanting to have a conversation. 

I hear him sigh next to me and pull out his phone. I’m absentmindedly scrolling through some mind melting social media site and squint when I receive an airdrop. I click it to see what it says and roll my eyes as I see it’s a picture of him smiling and it says “Hi.” in bold lettering. I shake my head trying to hide my smile at his ridiculousness as I turn to him. 

“Seems as if someone craves attention.” I hum with a soft smirk. 

“Is that your official diagnosis?” his smile widens. 

“Maybe some need for validation as well.” I raise my eyebrows and he bursts out laughing causing his eyes to squint. 

“Want to know what I think of you?” he calms his laughter as I see the rest of the room glaring at us. 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless of my answer.” I look at him waiting for his reply. 

“I think-“ 

“Welcome back everyone. We have a new member this week.” Meredith, the therapist, walks into the room silencing us. “Phones away, please.” she smiles sitting down as we all settle and turn our attention to her. 

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the group and tell us a little about yourself.” Meredith gestures her hand for Aegon to stand. 

“I’m Aegon,” his voice slightly wavers and I tilt my head curious at what happened to the confident man next to me. “Um, I’m here because my parents seem to think I’m struggling and never cease to remind me how I’m the family disgrace. It was either this or a facility.” he shrugs before sinking back down to his seat seeming to find his fingernails more interesting than anything else. 

“That was a good start. We can discuss that more in depth.” his eyes snap up to hers worried. “When you’re ready. For now we will show you how our group flows and if you feel comfortable enough you can join in.” she smiles reassuringly to him. 

The man next to her starts spouting off about his week and I drown out his words. I’ve never felt that this group ever really helped me. I don’t want to sit in a circle telling them my issues as they look at me with sorrow. I don’t want to relate to anyone. I don’t need help. 

Aegon catches my attention as he starts to shake his leg. I look over him and see that his entire demeanor has changed. I scold myself for wanting to know more about him and why he closed in on himself so quickly. I turn my attention back to the group and see Meredith staring at me expectantly. Fuck, it must be my turn to share. 

“I’m sorry?” I tilt my head embarrassed to Meredith. 

“I asked how your week went.” she smiles to me softly. 

“It was fine.” I nod my head. I never share much in here, just enough to not get me kicked out or reprimanded. 

“Anything you struggled with this week?” she prompts me to open up and keep talking. 

“I’m still not sober, my parents are trying to push me into a career or a marriage to get me off their hands.” I sigh shrugging hoping this will be enough. 

“How does that make you feel?” I fucking hate the tone she uses. It always makes me feel so broken and weak. 

“Angry, frustrated,” I shake my head not wanting to speak anymore. 

“How do you think your parents feel?” she pries even more and my temper spikes as I have to steel myself to the chair and not get up and leave the building. 

“I don’t care.” I grit out through my teeth. “Why does what I do matter?” I snap and she looks to me sadly. 

“We can discuss this in our one on one later this week.” she scribbles something out on her  notepad which infuriates me even more. 

I pull my legs up into the chair and stare into the circle zoning out. These are my least favorite days of the week. I hate when people look at me with pity. It’s not what I want. I don’t understand why it’s so fucking bad if I smoke and drink. Sure I can see why the pills were concerning, but I realized that myself and not with the help of any group. 

“I don’t want to share more today. If that’s okay?” Aegons voice pulls me out of bubble. 

“Yes that’s fine, Aegon.” she smiles at him. “I will see you all next week. Hopefully some more of you are willing to share.” she looks at all of us before leaving the room. 

“Do you still want to know what I think?” Aegon turns to me as I place my feet back on the ground. 

“Not really.” I stretch out my legs and stand. 

“I thought we were having fun with our game.” he looks at me with puppy eyes and pouts his lip. 

“I must’ve gotten bored.” I toss over my shoulder as I walk to the elevator and push the button.

“Let me take you out for a drink. There’s a place a couple blocks away.” he says before the doors open and I laugh at the question given our setting. 

“Yeah, fuck it,” I look him over. “Let me just stop at my car.” I say as we make our way out the main doors. 

I sigh looking up at the cloudy day before me. I had no plans today but I didn’t think I would end up day drinking with a man I just met. I’ve been in worse situations so I make my way to my car with no care. I grab my purse and my cigarettes and turn to him. I pull one out for myself and offer him one. 

“Thank you.” he smiles resting it between his teeth before fishing in his pocket and pulling out a lighter. “Here.” he hovers the flame near me and lights my cigarette for me. 

“How chivalrous, Aegon.” I chuckle throwing my pack back into my purse. 

We start down the city street and take in the life around us. The silence isn’t awkward between us but more of us settling down. I always feel so worked up and angsty after group. I feel like I have to mend my brain and emotions back together and I turn to Aegon who seems to be doing the same. We finish our cigarettes as our pace starts to slow. He brings us to a stop in front of large glass doors and I chuckle shaking my head. 

“Are you taking us to the rooftop bar?” he tilts his head at my words. 

“How’d you know?” he holds the door open for me and I walk in. 

“Y/n.” the doorman smiles as I enter. “and Aegon?” he looks next to me and I roll my eyes at the fact that he knows him as well while we walk to the elevator.

“Do you come here often?” he presses the button. 

“Starting with shitty pick up lines now?” I can’t help the laugh the bubbles out of me. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” his smile matches mine as his eyes light up. 

“I usually come here after group every week. And long before that as well I suppose.” The elevator dings and we step in. “You?” I turn to him before I turn to look out the glass elevator as we shoot into the sky. 

“I’ve been drinking here since I was a teen. Some habits never die.” he shrugs as he looks out the glass with me. 

My ears pop as we continue to rise and the city shrinks below us. We walk out into the dim hallway and he walks us to the outer doors. I inhale deeply once we step out into the breeze. The waitress smiles at both of us and leads us to my usual table on the edge of the rails. 

“The normal? For both of you?” she raises her eyebrows with a smile and I can tell the staff members of the building are absolutely reeling at their two regulars finally coming together. 

“Yes.” we both reply at once and we all laugh before she disappears back inside to get our drinks. 

We lean back in our chairs and study each other. I narrow my eyes at him and he offers me a lopsided smile. The waitress comes back with a tray with two bottles and two glasses. It seems as if we both like to indulge. She sets my glass of wine on the table in front of me and leaves the bottle before doing the same for Aegon who apparently has also gotten the same bottle of wine. She sets a crystal ashtray between us and leaves us once more. 

“I didn’t take you as a wine person.” I hum grabbing my glass by the stem and bringing it to my lips. 

“This is one of the only bars in the city that carry this.” he smiles sipping from his glass. 

“That’s why I try to come here at least once a week. Gods I could drink this place dry.” I moan as I take another sip. 

“If the two of us have been trying with that goal in mind for a while now it shouldn’t be too far off.” he chuckles shaking his head. 

“Let’s hear your diagnosis for me.” he turns his head back to me looking me over. 

“Let me guess your past instead.” he takes a long sip of wine. 

“Mm so now you’re a fortune teller?” I chuckle as he shushes me.

“Let’s see. Large family, well off, high expectations, you never seem to be enough, drugs and alcohol offer you the escape you need but when you finally crawl into bed for the night you think about everything that’s ever happened to you.” his joking tone long gone as I take another sip of wine. 

“Am I that easy to read?” I sigh settling back into my chair. “I had hoped I was more mysterious.” I shake my head smiling. 

“You have the same dead eyes I see in the mirror everyday.” our eyes lock. “And the same expensive taste in wine.” he grabs my bottle to refill my glass. 

“Well then, cheers to being the family disappointments.” I raise my glass. 

“To being the family disappointments, but still looking good while we do it.” he smiles clinking his glass to mine. 

I let out a laugh and finally allow myself to look over him more in depth. His blue eyes are piercing but they fill with light every time he laughs. His cheeks have become slightly flushed from the wine and breeze and I make the mistake of looking at his perfect lips which turn into a smirk as he sees me shamelessly checking him out. I’ve never been a fan of men with longer hair but his messy silver locks that almost reach his shoulders is doing something to me. 

“Do you like what you see?” he leans forward resting his head in his hands. 

“Do you dye your hair?” my eyes continue to look at his head of silver. 

“No this is all me.” his smile grows bigger. 

“I suppose you are handsome.” I hum bringing my lips to my glass once more. 

“I thought it would take more coaxing to get a compliment out of you.” he smiles proudly. 

“It seems as if I’ll have to fish for one from you.” I go to pull my cigarettes out. 

“Oh no, you’re absolute perfection. The second I saw you,” he shakes his head and holds his hand out for a cigarette. 

“Finish the sentence and I’ll see if you deserve one.” a smirk plays at my lips. 

“I wanted to drag you into the closest unoccupied room and fuck the sad out of you.” I can feel my cheeks redden at his brazen words and I hand him a cigarette. 

“Trust that I’ve tried to have the sad fucked out of me.” I shake my head as he leans over to light my cigarette again. 

“Mm, not by me though.” he takes a long drag of his as he licks his lips looking at me. 

“Someone thinks highly of themselves.” I raise my eyebrow looking him over. 

“Ten minutes with my tongue and you’ll forget everything.” I roll my eyes at his words. 

“I’ve been with you and your tongue for the past two hours and all you seem to do is talk.” he laughs loudly at my words. 

“Come to a party with me later.” he looks to me expectantly as we put out our cigarettes on the crystal. 

“Another bottle for you both?” the waitress walks up with a smile. 

“No we’re gunna head out. Charge them both to my room.” he nods at her before turning back to me. 

“Your room?” I tilt my head. 

“I live here. Well my family. We kind of own it.” he shrugs as he finishes off his glass. 

“How is it that I’m only now being graced with your presence.” I look into the sky as I finish the sweet wine. 

“Hearing my doorman call you by name had me thinking the same thing.” he rises and offers me his hand.

“I didn’t say if I was going to the party with you.” I look at his outstretched hand and then up to him. 

“Then at least let me get you a car to drive you back to your place.” he keeps holding his hand out. 

“Fine.” I huff placing my hand in his. 

“Do you wanna smoke first?” he tugs me to the elevator with him. 

“Absolutely.” I nod my head as he presses the button to a couple floors beneath us. 

When the doors open I take in the clean entryway. Ornate decorations and art scatter across the walls to accentuate the chandelier that drips from the ceiling. He keeps pulling me along and slipping us up the main staircase until he’s pulling me into another room. This room is completely different from what I walked into. It’s dim and cluttered. He has posters hung all over the walls and on the far left side there are floor to ceiling windows that offer the only semblance of light. Something brushes against my leg and I yelp looking down. 

“Come to daddy. My golden little beast.” he coos scooping up the cat from my feet. “Oh daddy’s little boy.” he hums kissing the cat in his arms. 

“Daddy?” I try to stifle my giggles. 

“This is Sunfyre, my sweet and perfect son.” he brings him near me and I pet his head affectionately as he purrs between us. 

“He’s absolutely adorable.” my voice soft as he starts to push the cat into my arms. “A handsome little boy.” I scratch behind his ears. 

My eyes squint as Aegon starts to turn on some of the lights. I see that half of this clutter is cat toys and towers and this is more of the cat’s room than it is his. I look around for a place to sit and cuddle the orange cat and settle for his massive bed. We curl up in the center as he purrs kneading the soft blankets. 

“Are you two comfortable?” he asks sprawling on the bed next to us.

“Very.” I hum looking up to his smile. “You could’ve gotten me to your room much faster if you told me you had a cat.” we both shower the cat between us with love. 

“We have more.” his eyes light up. 

“Well don’t hide them from me.” I giggle as he pulls me up from the bed. 

We walk down the hall and stop in front of a set of doors. He knocks and when we don’t get an answer he sighs out in relief. He pushes the door open and peers in and tugs me in behind him. He flicks the lights on and begins calling for the cat. 

“Vhagar, come out you fossil.” I hear a rumble from underneath the bed and out comes an angry looking Maine Coon who stretches before looking over us judgmentally and taking a seat.

“Come here Vhagar.” I squat down to her level and hold my hand out. She sniffs my hand then hisses and darts back under the bed. 

“She’s just old and angry at the world.” he pulls me up and I follow him out of the room. 

“Where are we going now?” I ask trying not to think about how well our hands fit together. 

“We have one more cat.” he knocks on this door and we’re greeted by silence once more and he pushes us into the light room. “Dream come out someone wants to meet you.” his voice soft. 

There’s a chirp and the most beautiful white Persian cat uncurls from the center of the bed. She stretches and walks to us and I melt looking at her beautiful blue eyes. I walk over to her and her coat feels like silk between my fingers. 

“Aren’t you the most beautiful gorgeous girl.” she leans into me and plops back onto the bed. I shower her with attention and turn and see Aegon staring at me. 

“That’s how I feel when I look at you.” I roll my eyes and shush him. 

He reaches for my hand once again and leads me back to his room. I take a seat on his bed and Sunfyre immediately jumps into my lap. I rub his belly as he playfully nips at my fingers. Aegon stands at the end of the bed pouting at me. 

“What’s wrong?” I tilt my head with a soft smile. 

“I want that kind of attention from you.” I chuckle at his words. 

“Get over yourself you baby.” he smiles as I pull him on the bed with us. 

“Here you can spark it.” he puts a joint into my hand. 

“So you can light my cigarettes but not a joint for me.” I pout to him and he reaches over to the table and grabs a lighter and flicks it on. 

I push the tip into the flame and inhale. The familiar sting in the back of my throat lulls me into a more relaxed state. I exhale the smoke out and hand it to Aegon. He turns the TV on for background noise as we pass it back and forth until it’s done. The room is hazy as we lay back on the bed. His cat comes up and lays on my chest and I smile petting him softly. 

“I might purr if you pet me like that.” Aegon turns on his side and looks to me with low lids. 

“Then come here.” he scoots next to me quickly and puts his head next to Sunfyre. 

My nails scrap against his scalp and the moan this man lets out has a blush creeping up my neck. I continue to brush my fingers through his hair which I have to admit is very soft. After a couple minutes of silence he lets out soft snores. I contain my giggles while I keep brushing through his hair. Before I know it I’m drifting off with my hand buried in his hair. 

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I crack my eyes open and feel my heart quicken as I don’t recognize my surroundings right away. I look down and see that my hand is still tangled in Aegons hair who has turned and is currently watching TV. I slowly start to stroke his hair again and he turns to look up to me. 

“You could have woken me up.” I murmur. 

“I liked being held by you.” his voice equally as quiet. 

“You have very soft hair.” I hum as I give it a soft tug and he leans into my touch. “What time is it?” I yawn. 

“Like two in the morning.” he turns back to watch TV and I look out his windows at the city lit up. 

“I should go move my car.” I shift to get up and he turns back to me worried. 

“Don’t go.” he says furrowing his brows. 

“I thought you had a party anyway.” I brush his hair back before removing my hand. 

“I don’t wanna go if you’re not going.” he sits up with me. 

“Then let’s go move my car and we’ll figure it out from there.” I stretch once I’m standing. 

We slip into the elevator without waking anyone and exit through the lobby quickly. I’m thankful it’s a short walk during this hour although the streets are well lit. Once we make it to my car Aegon stands at the drivers side and I tilt my head. 

“Can I drive?” he smiles. 

“This is my baby, Aegon.” I look to him skeptically. 

“Oh I can tell. It’s beautiful and I’ve always wanted to drive one.” he runs a hand across the trim. 

“You have a license right?” I nibble on my lower lip. 

“Of course, my love.” he smiles holding out his hand. 

“Fine.” I relent dropping the fob into his hand. 

He walks to my passenger side with me and opens the door. I settle into the seat as he walks around to slip into the drivers seat. The engine comes to life and he turns to me and smiles. He shifts it into drive and we’re on the streets in an instant. I watch him as he relaxes into the seat and steals a glance at me. 

“Relax, Y/n.” his hand falls to my thigh. “If anything happens to your car I’ll just buy you a new one.” he offers me a lazy smile. 

“I don’t want a new one.” I squeeze his hand and keep mine on top of his. 

“Don’t worry.” he rubs his thumb on me and my body heats at his touch. 

“Where are we headed?” I look out the window and watch as the city passes us. 

“No where in particular. What would you like to do?” he asks driving us deeper into the city. 

“I don’t know like food and back to yours?” I have no desire to go out or go home. 

“Sounds perfect.” he smiles and I admire him from my passenger seat. 

He takes us to a drive through and we eat in the parking lot which came with a lot of threats to him about not spilling anything. After we’re done we head back to his building. He parks it underground much to my relief. We wait for the elevator in silence and once we enter I turn to look out windows to take in the night lights. As the elevator starts to ascend he turns me towards him. 

“Hm?” I slide my eyes over to his and he places his lips on mine. 

I squeak before melting into him. He slowly licks along my lips and I sigh as his tongue slips into my mouth. The elevator begins to slow and our lips part. We’re both breathing heavily as we look to one another with smiles on our faces. As the doors open a woman with red hair is waiting in front of us. 

“Yes, mother?” Aegons demeanor immediately shrinks and the smile is erased from his face. 

“Are you sober right now?” she sounds almost confused. 

“I am.” he nods his head. 

“Who is this?” she looks to me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Y/n,” he turns to me chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“Lovely to meet you. I’m sorry of the late hour, if we woke you.” I wince not knowing what to say or do. 

“Do you need something?” Aegon asks and her eyes move back to him. 

“No, have a goodnight.” she looks to both of us before turning and disappearing down the dark hall. 

“I’m sorry.” he turns to me with scrunched brows once he closes the door to his room. 

“If it makes you feel any better my mother is the same.” I offer him a soft smile. 

“It’s never usually that calm.” he picks sunfyre up and hugs him close. 

I walk over to him and brush his hair back running my nails over his scalp. His shoulders seem to relax and I continue the movement. His cat jumps out of his arms and he pulls me into his embrace resting his head on my shoulder.

“It seems as if you need me to fuck the sad out of you.” his arms tighten around me at my words. 

“That was my line.” he chuckles into my neck. 

“Yeah but you’re like some sad fallen angel right now with your glossy eyes and I can’t help myself.” my hands travel up his back until they’re buried in his hair. 

He pulls back and looks at me slightly annoyed but has a smile on his face nonetheless. He captures my lips in a gentle kiss that clashes with his rough hands that start to lift my shirt off. He quickly unclips my bra without breaking our kiss and I groan into his mouth as he squeezes my tender flesh. 

“These are more perfect than I thought.” he groans as he pulls back to look down at them. 

I pull his shirt off before he reattaches his mouth to mine. I groan as our chests mold together. His hands slip down the front of my pants as he swallows my whimpers when he finds my wetness. His fingers slide down my slit before they stop and slowly circle my bud. I moan loudly into his mouth and he chuckles. 

“That feel good?” he continues with his languid speed. 

“Yes,” I nod my head as my breath starts to come out in pants as he begins quicker motions. “Aegon,” I whine as he pulls his hand out. 

He tugs me back to the bed and once I fall back on it he’s pulling off my pants. He crawls between my legs and slowly starts to pull off my panties making me squirm. He groans as he takes in my glistening core and looks up to me with low lids. 

“You said I’d only need ten minutes with your tongue if I remember correctly.” I look down at him spreading my thighs. 

He smiles devilishly before diving between my thighs. I bite my lip from crying out when his tongue licks a thick stripe up my center. His tongue attacks my bud and I arch off the bed gasping. My hand tangles in his hair and he moans against me as I pull. I grind against his face and he pulls me even closer keeping a bruising grip on my thighs. 

“Fuck Aegon,” I whine as my hips jolt against him as his tongue circles my core. 

The second his tongue pushes into me I feel myself ready to explode. The whimpers falling from my mouth only spur him on and my hips jerk on their own accord. I cry out his name as I come across his tongue and he licks me through all of it. He leans back and looks up at my heaving chest. 

“You were right.” I say with my voice still breathy as I sit up and watch him pull off his pants. 

I bite my lip at his length bobbing up against him. My eyes travel up to his face and take in the smile that’s back on it. He crawls back into bed with me and takes my lips. I reach out and wrap my hand around his length and he sighs into my mouth. My thumb collects some of his droplets helping my hand glide smoother. He grunts as I push him back and he looks up to me confused. 

I straddle him and line him up with my dripping core. We both moan as I sink down onto him. His hands grab onto my hips once he’s fully settled in me. I relax around him and begin to slowly move up and down. Once I get more comfortable I start to bounce quicker and his hands move from my hips to my breasts. 

“You were made for me.” he grunts as his hips push up to meet mine.

His name falls from my mouth as I grind into him as he brushes against my sensitive bud. I feel my pleasure coiling as he thrusts up into me hard. I come undone around him and he moans with me stilling inside me. He bucks his hips and flips us over and starts hammering into me. 

“Look at you taking me so good.” his voice rough as he rolls his hips into mine. 

My nails dig into his back as he grunts into my neck. His pace is relentless as I lose myself to him. I arch into him as I feel my pleasure building again. His trusts start to get sloppy as he chases his high. My walls slam around him as he swallows my cry of euphoria as he begins to fill me. He slowly pushes his hips into me pulling a whine from my mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” he slides out of me and lays next to me. 

“I think you succeeded in fucking the sad out of me for the night.” I smile at him and he turns to me with his own. 

“I was done being sad the second I was between your thighs.” he rolls over to me. 

He rests his head against my chest holding me tightly. My fingers brush through his hair allowing my nails to soothe him again. He hums in satisfaction against my chest as we allow our eyes to droop and for sleep to take over. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

and if i make a mini series out of this then what 🧍🏼‍♀️ 

Part 2

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

ps: this is not a cry for help i’ve done my dues in therapy and group BUT if you’re struggling there are resources out there that can help you and you can reach out to me and I will do what I can to help

[leclucklerc]

Against the World SO17 - 00. Prologue

Pairings: Shohei Ohtani x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Shohei's journey started in high school. A place where the both of them found themselves thrusted into the spotlight without warning.

Word count: 2.8k

Masterlist Next

Her friends told her that their relationship work was because how busy they are.

It’s because the both of them are really successful in their own respectful field. That the both of them are both really dedicated to their own craft and realized that time and effort is essential to keep improving themselves. That both love their works so much, making them both really busy and in the end-

Their relationship works because of that.

They met in high school.

Y/n likes to think that it’s fate, their meeting that is.

L/n Y/n was born from a Japanese mother and an American father. She doesn’t know much of her dad, considering he left her mom when he realized she was pregnant with his child. Y/n doesn’t really care. It’s not hard to forget a man that had never been in your life to begin with.

The same thing couldn’t be said to her mother.

After all, the woman had been heartbroken. She had given her heart, her young adult years, her dedication, for a man that decided that she’s not worth it. She had given him everything, only to be left with a child that he doesn’t want.

Maybe that’s the start of her resentment towards the man that had never been there. To see the woman that had raised and loved her staring longingly at the only picture that she has of the man. To see the woman closed her heart tightly. Never letting anyone to enter anymore.

To see the woman who had been so strong to raised her as a single mother in the midst of the Japanese society that had never looked her situation favorably.

Born and raised in Iwate, Japan, Y/n thought that she will grew up in this small city forever. She never really has an ambitious or big dreams to chase. From the start, she’s content with her life. A loving mother, a comfortable house, and friends to play with.

That is, until she was scouted as an idol during her first year of middle school.

If she must be honest, she had never really had an interest to become an idol. Nor had she put much thought when she said yes to the guy that scout her. It was a spur of a moment thing, where Y/n doesn’t really have much going on about her life.

The idol industry in Japan started young after all. Much younger than any other idol industries all around the world. She figured there’s no harm in trying and if in the end she doesn’t really like it, she can just quit considering that she still have her whole life before her.

She really didn’t expect the world of glitz and glamour. The kind of world that she’s not familiar with where she’s nothing more than an object to be idolized by someone. Where she has to put up a smile 24/7 on her face as she dance and sing in front of a crowd of people that really should be doing something better than obsessing a 13 year old girl.

Though alas, Y/n fell in love with the stage.

The bright light, the light that shone upon her, and the screams of adoring fans. The way her voice resonated across the air as she captured every pair of eyes, all of them focusing on her. All of them, putting all their attention to her.

For a girl that always craved love and validation all her life – an absentee father and a mother that is too busy - It really doesn’t take her long before she starts to love all of those. To start loving that aspect of being an idol and her life.

The stage is her first love. It’s something that will never fail to bring out a smile across her face. Something, that she could see doing years onwards.

But of course, life is not that perfect. What with her debuting under a small company amidst the already packed idol scene in Japan, it doesn’t take long for the company to put her into a hiatus. A hiatus is the fancy term, considering the company is basically trying to find an investor that’s crazy enough to invest their money on the not famous idol Y/n . 

And well, no one wants to.

Her latest album sales are less than 1000. The same thing could be said to her most recent fan meeting where almost no one showed up. Her company too realized the failing potential of her idol career, that’s why they’re putting her in the so-called hiatus. 

Her dorm room was taken too, considering how tight money is. Not wanting her to live on the company practice room or even the streets, Y/n was sent home back to Iwate.

Compared to Tokyo, Iwate is a quiet town. It’s the town where she was born and spent her childhood in and yet, it feels almost unfamiliar. She’s not used to the dark streets without the colorful billboards and various advertisements. She’s not used to the mountain scenery without any tall building disrupting her sight.

She’s not used to this. 

This uncertain future of hers. These signs that keep on showing. Showing her that it's time for her to give up on her hopeless dream. That there's no way she can succeed as a celebrity and capture the heart of many.

"I don't want to go to school," she had said to her mother, finger playing with the food in front of her. "So many people knows that I left Iwate for Tokyo to become an idol... if I went back now people will laugh at me."

"And what?" asked her mother, voice a bit firm. "Leave your education?"

Y/n went quiet at that.

She knows that her already doomed future will become more doomed if she choose to leave her higher education without a good reason. A university graduate could hardly get a decent job after all. What can a high school drop out do?

"You finish your school," said her mother again. "Finish high school at least. We can talk about university later."

The start of her high school life is bleaker than ever.

Her earliest memory is of her and her mother watching a baseball game late at night.

She remembered being excited, considering for the first time ever her mother had let her to stay up way passed her bedtime. Her mother had told her earlier, with a pretty and yet secretive smile, that she has something to show her.

Y/n is excited. Practically bouncing at her feet as she stared at the bright television screen in front of her. There’s a baseball game in front of her. Of the cheering crowds and the colors of the teams splattered across the screen.

“Y/n-chan,” breathed out her mother, also entranced as her arm wrapped around the younger’s smaller girl. “Baby, look,” she said as she pointed towards one of the man who was walking to the field, bat in hand. “That’s your dad.”

Dad, is a foreign concept for the young girl.

She had never met her dad before, and yet, her mother had told her countless of stories about the man. Y/n practically knows almost nothing about the man and yet at the same time, she knows everything to know about regarding the man.

The man on the screen has a small frown on his face as he went into his batting position. His mother let out an entranced gasp as the crowd started to grow wild when the pitcher too, went on about his pitching motion. And without further ado, the crowd went absolutely wild when the man hit off a homerun almost immediatelt.

“Oh my god!” yelled the older woman, practically hugging Y/n. “Oh my god!”

Y/n blinked. “What’s going on?” asked the girl, turning her head towards the older woman. “Is it a good thing?”

“It is baby!” exclaimed the woman as she smothered plenty of kisses on y/n’s face. “Your father had just won the world series!”

That was the first time she ever heard about the world series and her early introduction to baseball. At first, she was excited. After all, who won’t be after discovering that your father is a world famous baseball player? That your father is just someone so cool?

And then she realized why she never see her father.

Y/n was nine when she watched an interview that her father did. An interview that he did with his family. His family that’s not y/n and her mom.

She watched as the little girl around her age sat on her father’s lap, smiling widely with a pretty dress that y/n wished she could own. She watched as the woman besides her father laughed, hand looped around the man arm as the woman who’s definitely not her mom gave her father a small peck on his cheek.

She watched this picture perfect little family laughed and joke inside her screen.

It made her felt a bit empty. She had asked her mother countless of time why they never sees her father. Something that the older woman had never answered directly. It was always a “we’ll see him soon,” or “he’s a really busy man.”

Well, now she knows why she never sees her dad.

Her relationship with baseball grows a bit complicated at that.

To be precise, she really doesn’t have any personal vendetta towards the sport. Though, being reminded about your absent father every time she see the sport is an unpleasant feeling. To know that your father doesn’t care about you or your mom every time she sees someone playing baseball is something that she hates.

Growing up trying to avoid baseball in a country like Japan is a hard thing. Baseball is a national sport here so encountering the sport on a daily basis is not something uncommon.

Y/n hates it. She hates the fact that her father made her hates baseball. She hates the fact that her father cheats on his own wife. She hates the fact that her father doesn’t care about her or her mom. She hates the fact that baseball reminds her of her useless existence. That y/n is an unwanted child born out of wedlock.

She hates it so so much.

Though, as she stared at her new high school, she started to question many things.

“Why did I choose this school…” she muttered as she saw the large banner being displayed in front of the school building. A banner that’s congratulating the school baseball team on entering Koshien.

Turns out, her new high school, the Hanamaki Higashi High School, is a school famous for their baseball team.

Y/n really does have a rotten luck.

"Didn't you go to Tokyo to become famous?" asked the girl in front of her.

Y/n let out an awkward laugh. "I'm on a hiatus," she said. "I want to pursue my education first before continuing my career," continue the girl, lying boldly.

The girl laughed at that. "Well it's great to have you back!" she said. "Can't believe we have a celebrity on our midst!"

Said girl let out an awkward laugh at that. The opening ceremony had just began and there's countless of eyes on her. She should've been used to this, all the prodding and curious stare that's being directed towards her way.

And yet, she can't help but hate the feeling.

She could almost feel all the judging look and the raised eyebrow. She doesn't know how many of them would belief her lie of deciding to pursue her education over her career but she hates it nonetheless.

Y/n wants to hide.

She first met him as they were assigned to sit together.

Before then, she had known who Shohei Ohtani is, considering his hulking height. The teen had stood out like a sore thumb during the new student orientation, towering every single student. Ema, who is considered tall in a Japanese standard, had to crane her head up to see his face.

Besides that, Y/n too, had heard the whispers about him.

Apparently, Ohtani-san is a really good baseball player. Like, really good. During his middle school days, it seems that he had set some kind of record that made many famous baseballs school wants to recruit him. The reason why Ohtani-san chose their school? Who knows. All they know is that the baseball club head coach had jumped in joy when he realized the potential that Ohtani-san has. While of course their school too boast an amazing baseball program, it can’t be compared to those from a big city like Tokyo or Hokkaido. 

All in all, Y/n impression on his is that Ohtani-san is a really quiet guy.

While Ema is all about cheerful greetings and wide smile, Ohtani-san is all about prolonged silence and deep gaze. If the both of them are colors, Y/n would be a bright yellow while Ohtani-san will be a drab grey. Not too bright, and yet, he’s not that closed off from those around him.

Admittedly, they didn’t talk much. Y/n had tried to talk to him, several times in fact, but the answer had always been short and clipped. During class too, he had only ever passively followed along the lesson. Never tried to answer an open question or be the one to come in front to answer a problem.

The only time she had ever see him alive is when he’s playing baseball.

When the bell rings, Ohtani-san would be brightened considerably as he almost immediately shot past the door with his bag. Once, she had asked one of the baseball club members about it.

“He’s always been the first one on the field,” answer one of them. “And the last one to leave.”

Y/n hummed at that answer.

She had thought their relationship will always be like that. The amicable seatmates that don’t really talk much with each other but didn’t bother each other as well. That is, until the next seat rotation at the end of the semester. 

“Oh,” said Y/n, arriving at her designated seat. “Ohtani-san, we’re together again,” she said with a smile.

Ohtani-san looked up from his phone screen before he’s scrambling to hide it from her point of view. He looked a bit embarrassed at that. “L/n-san,” he answered after managing to gather his bearings for a bit. “Yes, um…”

He trailed off at that, seemingly unsure on what to response. Y/n doesn’t really mind as she took her seat. The girl gave the male a polite smile before she reached out for her bag, taking a fashion magazine that she had brought today.

There’s a casting for this clothing brand model… Maybe Y/n could try that?

“-San,”

Or maybe should she audition as a voice actor? But she thinks it will be hard to transition back to a singer if she does that.

“-n-san,”

She really doesn’t want to give up her dream to become a celebrity though. Should she try online auditions? Like in South Korea or-

“L/n-san,” called out Ohtani-san, catching her attention. They had been sitting silently for almost 10 minutes at this point, waiting for the morning bell to ring. Y/n never thought that the baseball player will strike up a conversation with her.

“Hm?” she answered with a smile on her face, a bit distracted, looking away from the magazine in front of her. “What’s up?”

He looks hesitant at first, opening and closing his mouth afterwards before he thrusted his phone towards her. It’s a recording of a baseball game.

“I… I was watching a game last night,” he started before pressing the video to play. In it, someone is doing the first pitch. “I was wondering if this was… really you?”

She stared at the phone screen in front of her. Dark eyes staring at the girl who’s doing the ceremonial first pitch with her long dark hair half hidden with the team’s cap.

It’s her. Y/n knows it’s her.

After all, that instance had been one of the highest peaks of her career. One of the baseball teams, the tigers, had asked her to throw the first pitch on one of their home games. Truthfully, considering her popularity, the only reason that she had gotten that gig was because the general manager of the team is her company’s ceo cousin. Back then, when it was her that’s going to throw the first pitch, no one knows who Suzuki Y/n was.

The cheers were minimal, but Y/n doesn’t really care. After all, it’s an honor for her to do that. 

No matter how her feeling is towards baseball – or, like, MLB – baseball is, the number one sport in Japan. For a failed celebrity like Y/n, to be able to throw the first pitch in one of the first-class team league in Japan is a sign of success.

Considering how much of a baseball geek Ohtani-san is, she really should’ve expected him to realize her job.

Answering him, she let out a large grin. “Yeah, it’s me,” she answered, leaning forward towards the desk. “Really cool right?”

Ohtani-san flushed before he nodded his head. “… Yeah,” he let out. “I didn’t know you’re… famous.”

“Not many knows that” she let out a chuckle. “I’m a bit of a failed idol, you know.”

The other teen furrowed his brows. “That can’t be it,” he said, tilting his head. “You did the first pitch for the Tigers.”

“Eh, it’s all about nepotism, Ohtani-san.”

He still doesn’t look unconvinced. 

“… I searched for your videos,” said the baseball player after a while. “Last night, to make sure that it’s really you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that. “You did?”

Ohtani-san nodded his head. “Yeah,” he let out before showing his phone screen towards her. It was one of her music video. The most recent one actually. “And, um… you were amazing. I really thought that you’re a famous star when I watched you perform.”

That- that warms here. Unexpectedly.

"You do?" she asked.

"Yes," replied the male without missing a beat. "I thought that it's amazing that you can perform like that despite so many eyes staring at you! I- um, I'm a nervous person naturally... so I really won't know what I should do if I were on your position."

She had heard people praises her performance many times. That if only she didn’t debut under such a small company, she would’ve been a star in the industry. Usually, she would’ve responded those praises with her automatic smile. Thanking them for the praise before humbling herself down.

Usually, such praise won’t make her heart skipped a beat.

Maybe it’s the sincere look on his eyes, or how he sounds as If he’s utterly convinced at that statement. She doesn’t really know. All she knows that simple praise opens up the gate of friendship between the two of them.

“Thank you,” she said, letting out a huge smile. “That really means a lot.”

Ohtani-san let out a smile at that too.

"Though, don't you have many people watching your baseball games?" asked the girl.

The male's cheeks warmed a bit at that. "Uh- um... if it's during games I would be too focused at the game itself so I won't notice anything besides it."

"I see," said the female. “So, who’s your favorite player at the tigers cause I got a lot of autographs from them-“

After that, Ohtani-san became Ohtani-kun. And Ohtani-kun, became simply Shohei.

[once-upon-an-animation]

So over the past few weeks, I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a retelling of the OG series from Annabeth’s perspective.

I’m interested in doing this because though I loved the PJO when I was a child, as I grow older, I find myself craving more nuance from the stories and the characters than what’s already there on the page. I thought hopefully the show would fulfill me, but uhh….amazing character depth is not one of the things I’d call the show’s biggest strong suits, at least not for Annabeth.

Now, I’m aware of the “Daughter of Wisdom” series on AO3, a fanfic series that does the exact same thing. I read that fic years ago and enjoyed it; I thought at the time that the fic was well done. However, I have a lot of ideas for scenes and details that I don’t think really showed up in that fic series, and so I find myself craving to create the POV for Annabeth and certain aspects of CHB that I’ve always wanted to see. I also wanted to spend more time emphasizing emotions and growth for Annabeth in a fic like this, and actually have her challenge and address her pride, sort of like a “I’m overcoming my biggest flaw” journey. I want to write this series from a sympathetic yet honest perspective about Annabeth’s life and her traits…including the traits that are not so pretty.

And so I want input from y’all on what you think would be worth including in a fic like this, and if there’s anything from the OG books that I should change, twist, replace, remove, deepen, or add something new. Here’s a list I already have going:

- emphasis on Annabeth’s relationship with Chiron and how it develops

- more emphasis on Annabeth’s relationship with Grover and how they get along when Percy isn’t there. Do they talk about Percy? And what do they think of each other? Does Grover feel intimidated by Annabeth, or feel like maybe she’s not proud of him because he let her down with the Cyclops incident and Thalia getting killed? Maybe at the end of the quest in TLT, before Percy gets back from Olympus, Annabeth reassures Grover that he’s a great protector and that she doesn’t resent him at all.

- Annabeth’s view of Luke and how/why it becomes complicated; how Annabeth reconciles the objectively bad things Luke has done with her desire for his redemption

- an emphasis on Annabeth and Thalia’s relationship after Thalia returns. How has it changed, Thalia remarking on Annabeth’s growth and teasing her about her crush on Percy, Annabeth helping Thalia cope with the loss of Luke to the “dark side” and also helping Thalia cope with how much the world has changed in 5 years and how Thalia now feels so out of place, Thalia helping Annabeth cope with continuous family struggles

- an emphasis on Annabeth’s relationship with other Athena children. Do they like each other? Hate each other? Are they competitive, all vying for their mom’s attention? Do they share some of Annabeth’s struggles; were their mortal parents also unimpressed about receiving a child they didn’t plan for?

- Annabeth’s relationship with other kids at camp: namely Clarisse, Silena, Beckendorf, and the Stoll Brothers (no, I don’t ship Connabeth, btw). But I also want to flesh out Katie Gardner and Pollux/Castor too.

- a proper resolution to Annabeth’s family drama that yes, recognizes how Frederick had a baby sprung on him that he didnt consent to, and how Mrs. Chase had no idea how to take care of a kid with special needs, but a resolution that also validates Annabeth’s feelings and highlights the ways in which Mr. and Mrs. Chase messed up and failed her with their poor choices.

- a new interpretation of Luke’s “did you love me”question

- An on-page apology from Annabeth to Rachel

- Annabeth’s relationship with her little brothers and how they might still try to love each other in context of their family drama, and not repeat the sins of their parents (breaking generational curses!)

- more emphasis on Annabeth and Athena’s relationship, and how Annabeth evolves from thinking her mother is this image of perfection, to realizing that Athena is just as faulty as the other gods and goddesses, and that Annabeth has a strength over Athena in that Annabeth has a bigger sense of humanity, and can change and adapt when she’s not doing something well. Annabeth can evolve in ways Athena cannot.

Anything else?

[mimisempai]

Just a touch of love

Summary

Small, fleeting, soft and honest touches. That's how Aziraphale expresses his love. The day Crowley realizes this, it takes his breath away.

Notes

Aziraphale’s language of love is touch

On Ao3

Rating G -  1352 words

"Oh, I see you've finally decided to catch up on Jane Austen. And you've started with my favorite. Persuasion."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and replied, "Seeing Anne's character, I can see why it is your favorite. You know what I mean... being persuaded to break off her engagement to the one she loves."

Aziraphale protested, "Now that's a low blow! Then let me quote Captain Wentworth: I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant."

Crowley chuckled slightly, figuring they'd made progress if they could joke about what almost happened a few weeks ago.

"I'm going to see Mutt at the magic shop, he told me about a new trick he wants to show me."

Seeing Crowley's horrified look, he continued, "Nothing dangerous, just for my own amusement. No need to be so dramatic."

The angel placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to brush a light kiss against his temple.

"See you later."

Then he headed for the door of the bookshop, followed by Crowley's gaze. The demon had just put his hand on his shoulder, right where Azirphale had put his before.

He hadn't paid much attention before, but now that they were both aware of their feelings and that it was mutual, Crowley was much more sensitive to the fact that the angel touched him often.

Small touches that didn't last long, but the impression of which lingered for a long time.

Even before they were together, like that time in the pub. Only he hadn't realized it.

Crowley exclaimed as he entered the Dirty Donkey, "Oh, we're going to the pub! You never go to the pub!"

Which didn't bother Crowley at first. He preferred less crowded places.

Continuing to move through the dense crowd, Aziraphale replied, "We're in the pub now."

Crowley asked curiously, "What's wrong with the coffee shop?"

Aziraphale looked around for a table and replied, "Well, that is the point.

Someone walking past him made him turn to Crowley and he placed his hand on the demon's chest, leaving it there for only a second or two.

"Sherry for me, please, a large one."

It had only been a light touch in passing. 

Crowley had given it no further thought.

Until now.

A hand on his chest, on his shoulder, on his arm, down his back, on his cheek. 

Small touches, increasing in number, telling of their growing intimacy. 

Crowley realized that for Aziraphale it was a way of showing affection, in this case love, and that realization took his breath away.

All this time.

Little touches of love

At this moment, he immediately missed the angel's touch.

He touched his shoulder again.

Aziraphale's touch was soft, like everything he did, but it was a steady softness, an affirmation, and Crowley wanted more.

He sighed, called himself a sappy fool, shook his head and tried to resume reading his book.

And it was while trying to read the same paragraph for the third time that he fell asleep.

He was awakened by something tickling his forehead and tried to brush it away with his hand. 

A chuckle answered and he opened his eyes to see Aziraphale, who had apparently just kissed his forehead.

He straightened up, moving his aching back muscles a little from the position he'd fallen asleep in.

Aziraphale said with a smile, "Persuasion is so boring?"

He caught a strand of Crowley's hair falling across his forehead and pushed it back. But instead of removing his hand, he let it slide down to the demon's cheek.

Crowley, getting exactly what he had craved before falling asleep, leaned into the angel's hand.

Aziraphale bent down and kissed him gently on the lips, then stood up, his hand leaving the demon's cheek. 

Crowley, his mind still a little clouded by sleep, couldn't help but whimper at the loss of the angel's hand on his cheek.

"Crowley, my dear, are you all right?" asked Aziraphale immediately, a worried look on his face.

Crowley, embarrassed, replied in a tone he wished was nonchalant, "Yes, yes, I'm fine, Angel."

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and said in an insistent tone, "Crowley...the truth, please." 

He placed his hand on the demon's cheek again and the demon immediately leaned into it, unable to resist.

Crowley said quietly, "It's all right, really, it's just that..." he pressed his cheek a little harder into Aziraphale's hand and added with a slightly sheepish air, "I think I'm getting a little too addicted to this."

Aziraphale came to sit beside him and took his hand, asking, "You mean to my hands?"

Crowley chuckled slightly, "Sort of, but mostly to your touch. You may not realize it, but you touch me a lot, not that I don't like it, on the contrary, in fact, that's the problem. Because I'm finding it harder and harder to do without."

Aziraphale asked gently, "Why is that a problem?"

He raised his hand to gently brush Crowley's hair back, and once again, Crowley automatically leaned into the gentle caress.

The angel continued softly, "You love it, and I love doing it. You love it when I touch you, and I love it when I touch you. I don't see any problem, quite the contrary. Isn't it wonderful that we can be so close? You know..."

He stroked Crowley's cheek gently with the back of his hand and continued, "...I don't touch anyone like that. Just you. Because sometimes it's easier to get my feelings across to you by touch than by saying them."

Crowley nodded, the angel's words confirming his earlier realization.

Aziraphale continued, a small smile on his lips, "Just as I suppose you don't let just anyone touch you like that."

Crowley couldn't help but shudder at the thought of anyone but Aziraphale touching him like that.

"Yes, that's what I thought." 

Aziraphale says to him gently, "How about we indulge each other now, how about I continue reading the book you've given up and you lie down next to me?"

"I say this program is perfect, Angel."

He kissed the angel's lips and the angel sat down in a corner of the sofa, allowing Crowley to recline there and rest his head on his lap.

Aziraphale began to read aloud, picking up where Crowley had left off. 

His free hand rested on Crowley's head, burying his fingers in the red hair, smiling as the demon couldn't help but make a sound that resembled a purr.

"He stopped. A sudden recollection seemed to occur, and to give him some taste of that emotion which was reddening Anne's cheeks and fixing her eyes on the ground."

Aziraphale's hand was now on the demon's shoulder, tracing light circles, Crowley clearly enjoying the caress.

As he continued to read, Aziraphale's hand moved, giving Crowley the touch he craved. Soft and firm. Soft and loving.

“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever.”

"Thank you, Angel."

Aziraphale set the book aside to look at Crowley and replied, "Thank you for what, my dear? You don't have to thank me when the pleasure I get from touching you is as great as the pleasure you get from receiving my touch. It's a perfect trade, don't you think?"

He leaned over and gave the demon a soft kiss on the temple, then resumed his reading.

Crowley reached for the angel's hand that was now on his hip and intertwined their fingers, pressing their joined hands against his chest.

At that moment, he didn't care if he was being too sentimental or too sappy. Because every touch of his angel told him I love you better than any declaration.

To touch and be touched.

To love and be loved. 

Wasn't that all he had ever longed for?

And now it was within his reach.

Through the loving touch of his angel.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[thebluestbluewords]

the children crave the coffee

shameless ot5 babyfic, only it’s set during the time before the actual baby, when they’re discussing the theoretical parenting of a kid.

+

“It’s called being diurnal, and based on this kids genetics, they probably won’t be.” Evie adds. “Honestly, we probably couldn’t have made better odds for a nocturnal kid if we’d planned it.”

Ben sticks his head out of the walk-in closet, which they’d been considering as an adjacent-but-separated baby room, with a hurt look on his face. “Hey, I resent that. I sleep.” 

“Mhm,” Evie hums. “When?” 

“At night.” 

“During what hours, babe? Given the chance to sleep whenever you want.” 

Ben goes delightfully red when he’s embarrassed. Like a little ripe tomato. 

“Normal ones?” he offers, “Very normal and respectable ones?” 

“Lies!” Evie says delightedly. “You were awake until three am the last time we had a weekend off. I’ve seen your game stats, and I know how long you were playing the sims.” 

Ben groans, and knocks his head into a wall. “I’m going to unfriend you on stream if you’re going to use your friend code powers for evil.”

Evie cackles. “You can try, but I’ll log into your computer while you’re asleep and share them again. There’s no way to hide your sims addiction from your loving wife.” 

There’s a thud from the kitchen area. “I’ll hide your game stats!” Carlos calls. “But you have to help me raise our kid nocturnally!” 

“No deal! They’ve got to be functional in regular society!” 

Carlos bounces back into the bedroom area. “Coffee is the answer. Kids love coffee. It’s how they have so much energy.” 

“I don’t think we can give coffee to an infant,” Ben says, but his expression looks suspiciously like he’s considering it. “That feels….wrong.” 

“Start ‘em out with mostly milk, build up to it. It’ll be fine.” 

“I feel like anything you say with this much confidence has got to be wrong.” Ben says slowly, which is probably the right thing to think, or whatever. It’s not like any of them have ever had parents who actually cared enough to pay attention to what they were drinking. “I feel like I’m going to look in one of the parenting books and it’s going to say that any drip of coffee that passes a child’s lips before ten is basically a death sentence.” 

“The parenting books actually say fifteen,” Evie adds. “And it’s not a death sentence, just child abuse.” 

“Fuck off.” Carlos says, sharp, like it’s a reflex. “No it’s not.” 

“I was drinking espresso before I turned ten.” Mal says. She’s pretty sure the coffee isn’t the part of her childhood that was abusive, but Auradon has different standards. “I’m fine.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Jay adds. 

“Don’t do this—“ Evie starts. “No—“ 

“I don’t think the coffee was actually the part of my childhood that was abusive. I think it was the way my dad hit me, actually.” Ben says thoughtfully. They don’t often give him the chance to join in when they get into the shitty parts of their childhoods, so this is actually good. It’s a bonding experience, and Mal should swallow down the part of her that wants to rip king Beast’s head off. 

“I think the fact that my mom wouldn’t give me coffee was more abusive than the other stuff.” Carlos chimes in. 

“No, that’s definitely wrong.” Evie says firmly, “because if you’re not claiming child abuse it means the rest of us can’t either. I’m pretty sure that giving your tiny child chemical burns is more abusive than denying them coffee, and while I’m not an expert, I am willing to go to court over this if you’d like.” 

“I think your mom starving you was pretty bad. You don’t have to have the same problems to count as abused.” 

“I know that, but it’s more the principle of the thing.” Evie says, frowning. “I feel guilty calling myself an abused child if you’re not doing the same thing.” 

“Solidarity.” Carlos says, nodding. 

“I suppose so,” Evie says doubtfully, “but really I think it’s because I came out so well-adjusted compared to the rest of you.” 

[sleepingfancies]

hello it is the uninvited you said u can talk about Raphael's complexities for hours. please do i want to know about this GUY <3

hiii i'm late to this but YAYYYYY thank u sm for asking about My Guy >:3 complexities under the tag for length

Raphael (23) is the eldest of six children. Since Raphael was six years old, he's helped take care of his younger siblings one by one. He does love them dearly, but a large part of him also resents how his life was dedicated to being the "third parent." He's held his tongue out of gratitude, given the hardships his parents fought through trying to raise them, but that's really only served to let his resentment simmer. His relationship with his parents is tense at best because of it. It hurts his mother in particular to see him distance himself, and truthfully Raphael hopes it keeps hurting. Despite that, whenever his siblings - or indeed anyone around him - needs help or comfort or protection, he will always be there at a moment's notice. By now, it's an instinct he can't ignore. Being of service to others while also being their guiding or protecting hand is the way he was taught how to love.

Raphael's mother Rikke became a household name when she exposed new biotechnology being quietly developed in her home country (Nattenheim) to the neighboring country (and planned future recipient of said biotechnology) of Teothe. The developmental methods of the technology kickstarted a civil war in Nattenheim, and the scandal ended all trade and diplomatic relations with Teothe. Her partner Florian helped her flee to his home in Teothe for refuge, but they remained unsafe from assassination attempts for a decade afterwards all the same. Raphael was both conceived and born during this timeframe, making his first five years of life deeply unstable and full of uncertainty. He does not remember having a safe home in which he could just be a child until he was six, by which time he became the "third parent" almost immediately.

Raphael, being his mother's spitting image, cannot escape association with "Rikke the Traitor" or "Rikke the Savior" no matter where he goes. Every person he meets is immediately aware of his connection to Rikke, and judgments frequently follow that awareness. As a result, he bases his presentation largely around what people think of his mother. If they believe she is a traitor, then Raphael plays up being dishonest, selfish, even outright cruel. If they believe she is a savior, then Raphael presents himself as selfless, honorable, and gentle-hearted. This might seem like loyalty to his mother, but in actuality, he just throws on whatever veneer "validates" any one person's judgment of him. Very few people actually "know" Raphael, given how much of his public behavior is a front.

To the above point: Raphael is, at his core, desperately attention starved. He craves recognition like his life depends on it. If someone believes his mother is a traitor with no morals, he will lean into that belief to guarantee that he is equally reviled, because that promises attention. He does not fear being disliked, because he can always get some measure attention from people who find him annoying or unlikable. He pursues goals, passions, and people he believes can satiate his attention needs with obsessive fervor. If he fails to achieve them (or god forbid loses them to another's efforts), he can become deeply bitter and even violently jealous. Raphael wants to be lauded, wants to be wanted, wants to be cherished, wants to be noticed, wants to be the specialest person in the room to something or somebody at all times. He does not care how he gets that or who or what he gets it from. He is someone prone to insanely toxic relationships that he charges headlong into, or corrupt workplaces where he can undercut others to get recognized. By the same token, though, he is also perfectly at home in a deeply loving relationship with a steady partner, or in a workplace where he can feel fulfilled helping others and be regularly thanked for it, such as emergency medical services. He has made his personality and standards very malleable in order to slot into whatever niche best rewards him with attention.

Whether an acquaintance or a close friend, everyone knows that Raphael is vain. Of course, he wouldn't describe it that way so much as that he's "meticulous" about his appearance. He takes great care of his hair in particular, but preens quite diligently in general. The point of this (though he isn't aware of it) is still an attempt at recognition. Styling himself is the easiest way to get attention, after all. If he can be the prettiest man in the room, the most fuckable person at the grocery store, the cleanest and shiniest person in the chapel, then people are paying attention to him exclusively. In fact, calling Raphael "plain" or "boring" or "dull" are probably the most surefire ways to making a permanent adversary of him. He will never, ever accept the implication that he is in any way mediocre or average. He can't accept that in others, let alone himself.

In Nattenheim culture, the number, style, and fastener-of-choice of braids a person has are all communicative of various social aspects such as marital status, profession, and class. Raphael almost exclusively wears his hair in one long, singular braid fastened with a dull tie at the ends. Due to its simplicity, this style has no translation in Natten culture. It is essentially communicating that the wearer has no identity.

Raphael's insecurities get the better of him in ways he can't always control. His fear of being replaced, forgotten, or growing irrelevant constantly gnaws at his subconscious, and it is a powerful beast. If he feels that his companionship or work is slowly being edged out of relevance by another's, he can fly into irrational and accusatory behavior in a blink. Without intervention or reassurance, it can become devastating fallout. Raphael never wants to hurt or scare people he cares about, but he just doesn't have the skill to calmly communicate how terrified he is of being replaced, forgotten, or made irrelevant. He has burned quite a few bridges this way, all of which he deeply regrets. He knows all he can do is apologize when he comes down from his state of panic, and accept if or when that apology doesn't grant him forgiveness. He genuinely wants to be a better person, but he has no idea where to start. A part of him thinks it's probably too late to improve.

Raphael would not be able to answer the question of "who are you" with anything besides his name. If asked about hobbies, passions, even personality traits, Raphael would struggle to provide an answer. If asked about childhood memories, he wouldn't be able to describe any that did not include his siblings or watching his parents fear for their lives. He has spent most of his life either playing the role of the responsible eldest child and protective big brother, or being a mirror of others' perceptions of him. He refutes vulnerability on instinct. He doesn't necessarily fear it, but he cannot afford to risk it with the wrong person. Not when his family relies on him, and not when "being himself" could also risk losing the invaluable attention that catering to people's expectations brings him.

Raphael is also, to some degree, a stanger in his own career. He joined a faction not because he believes in their beliefs or even cares about the work, but because it put the most distance between himself and his family. His joining was controversial and he was very nearly rejected, due to his mother's infamy. To avoid more scrutiny, he interacts very little with his coworkers. He is comfortable in his own company, which is perhaps the only saving grace for the situation. Isolation leaves him alone with his thoughts and feelings, isolation makes him bored, isolation makes him crave attention more and more. Most of his coworkers don't know him as anything beyond "the guy who stays out of the way," but Raphael's more destructive tendencies are always just around the corner.

Though very few people have seen it, Raphael is remarkably - even startlingly - different in private vs in public. His fronts in crowded public spaces are often loud and flirtatious, impossible to ignore and easy to be annoyed by. He brushes off criticism as easily as he charms strangers into becoming friends, all while ensuring he's the focal point of every eye in the room. One-on-one in public, he comes across as anything he wants you to believe he is. Shallow, generous, vapid, mean, funny, shy. Whatever he thinks you want him to be. In private, though, the facade drops. He's far more subdued, softspoken, and patient. He seems exhausted, even if he manages to keep up appearances with a smile at least. Particularly if he's caught off guard in private - if he wasn't expecting company - the difference seems like night and day. If asked about it, he won't acknowledge the difference. Depending on who he's speaking to in private, he can recover the facade quickly, though it's never quite the same as when he's fully prepared for a crowded room.

Despite it all, Raphael does very much want to have his own children someday! Aside from simply wanting to be a father, he wants to "do it right" as far as raising a child goes. He wants to be able to do it on his terms, with a person he chooses, with a home he establishes that is safe and quiet and comforting. He wants to give his kid the childhood he didn't get, the love and attention he just couldn't be provided, and the security he lacked in his early years. This is something that's deeply important to him, and not something he's ever discussed with anyone. He isn't sure he'll ever get it, or if he'd even be any good at it. He's worried he'd be too selfish, too insecure, too shallow. He's afraid he would end up traumatizing his child. These are worries he's never voiced aloud. Not even his parents are aware he wants to be a parent someday. He quietly mulls over whether or not he could do it - and whether it would just be kinder to let go of that desire rather than risk his problems overwhelming a kid - alone.

[nishaxeleazar]

Name: Nisha Eleazar Faceclaim: Christian Serratos Age: 721 Species: Vampire Occupation: The Titan Theatre Owner Hometown: Florence, Italy Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Relationship Status: Single Personality Traits: Dramatic, Ruthless, Impatient, Decisive, Free Thinking, Independent, Persuasive, Obsessive.

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNING: MISCARRIAGE, ABUSE, STALKING

Nisha was born in Florence, Italy to parents she no longer remembers the names of. Really, they were inconsequential on Nisha's life, especially since they passed when she was seven. It was a tragic accident, as the ship they were on sunk and her parents succumbed to the deep blue waters of the sea. Nisha was found clinging to several large planks and saved.

Ever since then, she was an orphan. The church always tried to help the unwanted children, but they could never keep up with the amount of kids that didn't have homes. Nisha taught herself how to swindle and steal. When she was old enough, she even used her body to get what she needed. She wasn't proud of it, at the time, but there was nothing more for her to do.

That was, until, she met a handsome young man who came from one of the wealthiest families in Florence. Sure, he was arranged to marry another woman, but that didn't stop Nisha from sliding her way in and stealing his heart. Did she love him? She believed so. But really, the girl had no idea what love was.

After they wed, Nisha did everything and anything to make him happy. To show him that he did, in fact, win the highest prize with her. Eventually, he was wrapped so tightly around her finger that the numerous miscarriages meant nothing. As long as he had her, and she had the means to do what she wanted, nothing could tear them apart.

One night, walking home from the theatre, Nisha and her husband were attacked. At first, she believed it was from people who just wanted their wealth. But then she soon realized that it wasn't the money that this man wanted, but her. He made her watch as he drained the life out of her husband -- as if that would truly break her heart -- and then, he whisked her away. Away from Florence. Away from Italy. Away from the life she had clawed her way up from the grime of the streets to have.

Before and after he turned her, he kept her at his side, rarely letting her out of his sight. He did not offer the same comforts as her husband had, and slowly but surely, resentment grew.

One day, she met Markus. Even though he was human, Nisha felt a tug towards him that she'd never felt before. Not even with her husband. There was a need to be around him and not only that, but he gave her the attention she didn't even realize that she craved. She thought that maybe -- just maybe -- she could turn him and he could help her escape her sire. But that hope was squashed right after she helped Markus transform. Her sire found out about it and whisked her away. She wasn't even able to say goodbye.

Her sire became more controlling and possessive after that. Between the isolation, the demands, and the lack of any form of freedom, Nisha's vibrancy for life damped. The drive and thirst for something more vanished.For decades, she lived like this. Doing as she was told, being kept in houses that never felt comfortable.

That was, until, she found out that vampires could be killed. The moment she discovered this information, she methodically planned the murder of her sire and escape. From the start of her plan, to the week of the execution, it had taken another decade. But before she could finalize her plan and actually kill him, Hunters attacked the both of them. She hadn't even realized there were people who were hunting them, let alone the fact that they sometimes hunt in packs. Nisha managed to fight them off and kill a couple of them before fleeing, leaving her sire behind, as he'd already been dealt a fatal blow.

Nisha moved around a lot, after that, as she felt as though she needed to experience everything and anything. She'd been confined for so long that she could no longer sit still. She also didn't want to raise suspicion, making it to where Hunters could track her easily. That was until she found Port Leiry. She settled there a little over a hundred and twenty years ago. Occasionally, she will leave for long term vacations, but she always comes back.

Ten years ago, she encountered Hunters again and almost died, herself. Nisha already had anger towards them for trying to kill her the first time, so this led to her wanting revenge on them. Not only that, but she wanted to make them regret ever messing with her. That's when she became obsessive over her next plan: find the best hunter, the most prized one, and take them for herself.

Not long after that, she set her eyes on one person: Reid Halstead.

She stalked him, gaining any and all information she could on him and his many talents before she was confident that she could not only best him, but turn him. Not only was this one of her more prouder moments of herself, but Nisha vowed to not be like her sire. She wasn't going to isolate Reid, nor was she going to make commands of him. Not unless she felt it was necessary, of course. Or if it brought her a bit of fun in her life. Because no matter what Reid thought -- he was hers and she'd be damned if she didn't make the best out of their situation.

HEADCANONS

Nisha has a flare for the dramatics. She always has. She's enjoyed the theatre from a young age and worked hard to be able to own the Titan Theatre.

There are times when Nisha wishes she felt normal emotions, or knew how to have a genuine connection with people. She has cursed her parents on multiple occasions for dying before they could show her how a person is truly supposed to act and feel.

Nisha never saw her miscarriages as a bad thing and was thankful for them, as she never wanted children. She knows she'd be a horrid mother.

Every day, Nisha fights to not be like her own sire. She doesn't want to force anything on Reid. However, she wishes he took to the vampire life a bit more seamlessly. She absolutely hates that he feeds off of animals and plans to change that in the near future.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

DID YOU MISS ME? ; Nisha believes her sire is dead. She swears that she saw the killing blow from the Hunter happen. But in reality, he is not, and he has been looking for her for over a century.

JOIN US ; This person (or people) have been trying to get Nisha to join a clan for centuries. She has no intentions of joining anyone and continuously tells them so whenever they try to talk to her about it.

SAY MY NAME ; Nisha has had a plethora of lovers over the years, but this person is their newest. Their dynamic is completely open. She is not the sentimental or commitment type. She is there to have fun and for it to not be complicated.

more tba later!

[seleneprince]

Not me coming back from Tcoaal and realizing the potential parallels between the main characters and the akashi siblings (-takeomi).

TW: Dark themes ahead, including manipulation, gaslighting, dubious consent, incestuous behaviour, sexual innuendos and overall pure toxic energy. Beware.

Both of them being raised by a neglectful and bordeline abusive caretaker (takeomi didn't give a fuck about haruchiyo's wellbeing and he even saw senju as a way to gain more power for himself). Haruchiyo being forced to take care of Senju and act like her pseudo-parent most of the time when takeomi can't be bothered to do so. Both growing closer and very dependent of each other because they have no one else to turn to and takeomi prefers to let haruchiyo handle it. Senju seems to be the favourite, but Takeomi can't stand tears and has little to no patience, so he passes her off to Haruchiyo whenever she gets difficult. It's only when she's "behaving" that Takeomi pays attention to her.

It was Haruchiyo who kissed her scrapped knees and cuts when she hurt herself to "take the pain away". It was up to him to read her bedtime stories when she couldn't sleep, to wipe her nose when it was runny, to stay by her side when she was sick. Takeomi went out of his way to make young Haruchiyo raise Senju so he didn't have to himself. And while he loves his sister more than anything, he also resents her, because he's being forced to sacrifice his childhood for her. There are times, when he's alone with his thoughts, that he wishes she didn't exist. This causes him nightmares.

Imagine them having to share a room because they struggle with money (their parents are clearly nowhere in the picture), so takeomi makes them sleep in the same room for years to save space. Senju sneaking into Haru's bed when she's scared and he always lets her, with complaints and sighs, but they always end up asleep in each other's arms. It becomes their routine, specially when they know Takeomi wouldn't ever listen to their fears or worries, let alone try to reassure them.

"It's okay, Senju. We have each other. That's all we need", he's caressing her hair and she believes him.

Imagine them after the "plane incident", when Haru's mental state begins to deteriorate. As expected, Takeomi doesn't try to comfort him, inmediately blaming him once again, and Senju feels so terribly guilty she cries about it. She eventually confesses Haruchiyo the truth and his resentment grows out of the surface. Their once sweet bond slowly grows into something twisted and toxic, because now he hates her but he still loves her too and can't bring himself to stay apart too long. Senju is very wary of him now but still seeks his presence. He tries to push her away, hurting her in places where Takeomi can't see, only to heal her himself later and comforting her like he's not the one who did it. She doesn't dare to speak up, mainly because she feels she deserves it. Haru encourages those thoughts.

"You see what you made me do, sister? This is your fault. Why do you piss me off?"

"I have these scars because of you. I'm gonna have them forever. You shoud make up for it, don't you think?"

"C'mon here, you crybaby, I'll patch you up. I didn't mean to go that far, okay? Here, let me fix it"

When he's not being a jerk, he becomes that caring and loving older brother Senju knows and craves. Those short moments of peace and safety with him are the reason she doesn't cut off ties completely. She's holding unto the hope that her brother will change.

As time passes, he becomes more and more possessive. He isolates Senju to make sure she only has him to rely on, terrorizing her friends (specially the boys) and anyone that shows interest in her. In return, she's also possessive with him and hates when he hangs out with others because it feels like he's "abandoning her". She throws tantrums and is willing to fight back if it means getting him to pay attention to her. He relents most of the time, because he loves seeing her desperate for him and it reassures him that she'll never leave him. He still has outbursts of jealousy, tho.

"What the fuck were you doing talking to him? You really believed he'll love you, that he'll take you out on dates and that bullshit? Don't make me laugh, only I can love someone as wrecked as you"

"Nobody is gonna treat you better than me. Nobody is gonna know you like I do, ever. You don't need anyone else but me. Why would you want other boys when I'm right here?"

It's not hard for Haru to convince her that it's normal for siblings to cuddle and even shower together. She doesn't know anything else, she has no one to tell her it's wrong. When puberty hits him and he starts to experience certain needs, there's only one female he's close enough to imagine having that sort of intimacy with. In his mind, it makes perfect sense. Senju is the only girl in his life, he knows he can touch her without problem, and besides, she fucking owes him that. After everything he's put up with for her, all the sacrifices he did and the mistreatment he endured from Takeomi, it's only fair that Senju lets him have this, right? He believes he's entitled to her in every form and sense.

Senju doesn't think much when he sneaks his hands under her shirt to feel her up, or when he watches her get dressed in creepy silence, or when he makes her sit on his lap. After all, this is what siblings do all the time right? Haruchiyo is just being affectionate in his own way. She's only taken aback when he kisses her for the first time, but she quickly relaxes because "this is what siblings do. We're just practicing, dear sister". Besides, Haru is practically the only male she has contact with (Takeomi is mostly absent and Haru makes sure she doesn't talk to other boys), so when she reaches puberty, she begins to feel sexually attracted to him. Something he notices and enjoys greatly.

"C'mon, aren't you going to let your big bro' touch you? If I don't show you how it's done, how else are you gonna learn? Big brothers do this all the time, y'know? Who better to teach you these things than me?"

"What? You're feeling shy now? I used to change your diapers and bath you for years. I know every part of your body like it's my own. Now get closer, I wanna see you"

"You should be glad to have such a good brother to help you with this. I'm doing this out of my affection for you. Yeah? You like how I'm touching you? Let me hear you then."

Their feelings for each other are messy, twisted and so complex that not even they can fully untangle them. They love each other, that much they know. Haru wants to kill her often, they know it too. Senju wishes he didn't exist, they know that too. But in the end, they also know they need each other more than anything. Not like the air they breathe, more like the smoke of the cigarettes. It's slowly killing them from the inside, but they're addicted to it. They can't exist in a world without the other.

Eventually, his undying devotion for Mikey wins and he runs away, leaving Senju behind. She never forgives him. He never forgets her. Somehow he still manages to be present in her life, if only from afar, but his control has weakened and now Senju is finally free to make friends. To have her own life separated from him. And the more she sees the world without his influence, the more she realizes just how fucked up and how wrong everything he did was. He talks to other people and finds out that kind of behaviour it's, in fact, not normal in siblings. That it's actually considered unnatural and forbidden and so incredibly disgusting. She feels asshamed and embarrassed for it, her perception of Haruchiyo finally changes to realize how he manipulated her all this time. Senju decides it's for the best to cut off contact with him, trying desesperately to bury their sins.

But at this point, he's not letting her go. Ever. It doesn't matter how hard she tries to push him away, he only pulls her back harder. Because despite all the shit that's gone down between them, he still knows her better than anyone and they still have no one else that understands them the way each other do.

And so that's how their relationship goes on through the years, with hatred and regret and love interwined. She's not allowed to move on, but neither does he. They're on opposite sides of the war, but they'll still hold unto each other like their lives depend of it (because they do) with their bloody mouths and bruised knuckles from the brutal fights. Because this wreck of a relationship is all that they have left, as twisted and painful as it is.

They'll pretend there's nothing to it, carrying on with their respective lives away from the other, but eventually, there's always a moment when their hearts beat their brains and they fall into that sick, forbidden dance once again, forgetting about the world and their responsabilities and the tragic childhood they share.

"I told you, didn't I, little sis? Nobody will understand you like I do"

"You're mine to break and care for"

[sunshinebingo]

@gwynrielweeksofficial Day 10 - AU Day

The Neighbour's Cat

I love when we get the Shadows’ input in Azriel’s POVs and for this one, I tried to do that but with Gwyn.

Synopsis: Gwyn finds a cat in her backyard and decides to meet its owner.

Word Count: 1.4k

Read on Ao3

"Are you sure you don’t need help unpacking?” Nesta asked for the thousandth time.

“I’m sure Nes,” Gwyn sighed and replied for the thousandth time. “I’m almost done anyways.”

“Wow Gwyn you’re fast.” She has been unpacking since the last box has been dropped that morning. It was now almost evening and she desperately needed a break. And that is why she had called Nesta. Emerie would have also been on the line with them if she wasn’t still at work.

“Well unlike you I don’t have a gorgeous boyfriend to keep me distracted,” Gwyn tried to say it without the slight longing that she felt at the thought. Gwyn was more than happy for Nesta. She felt the same for Emerie who was currently dating Cassian’s cousin. But she couldn’t help but feel a little left out sometimes. Not by her chosen sisters. She could never resent them for having what she did not.

Gwyn felt like whatever mystical being responsible for pairing people had somehow forgotten her. She was fine by her own. But whenever she saw happy couples being in love and acting all cute, she couldn’t help but wonder whether she would be happier with someone else in her life.

‘’Gwyn? You still there?’’ Gwyn realised then that she had been lost in her thoughts and thus completely ignoring Nesta.

‘’Huh? Yeah I’m listening,’’ she blurted out.

‘’What was I saying then?’’ Nesta teased.

‘’Something about Cassian?’’ Gwyn tried. Nesta only laughed and the conversation moved to the planning of the next girls’ night which would be held at Gwyn’s new house. When Nesta hang up, Gwyn was so tired that she did not feel like cooking. She plopped down on the couch and looked for something to order online.

As she debated with herself over sushi and tacos, a little meow from the garden caught her attention. When she heard it again, Gwyn leapt from the couch to investigate. She has always been fond of animals. But, unfortunately, none of her previous apartments allowed her to adopt one. That has been part of the reasons why she had gone for a small house this time. This, and the fact that, after almost a year spent in the middle of the city, Gwyn craved some quiet.

Gwyn heard a rustling sound coming from a bush near the wall that separated her house with her neighbour’s. A fluffy black cat with a pair of bright green eyes walked from under the bush and meowed at her. Gwyn’s heart melted when the cat walked and rubbed itself against her legs as if she hasn’t just moved here this morning. She knelt on the grass to pet the cat and it immediately started purring.

“I didn’t know the house came with a friend,” Gwyn said to him as she scratched his fluffy head. “Hi little guy.”

Forgetting about the food that she had to order, Gwyn spent the next half hour in her new backyard playing with her new friend. When the sun was almost set, she heard the sound of a bike from the neighbour’s side of the wall. A few minutes later she heard voices.

‘’Grumpy,’’ a deep voice called. Gwyn noticed the cat’s ear twitching. ‘’Grumpy, where are you boy?’’ the voice called louder this time. The cat moved his head in the direction of the voice.

‘’Are you Grumpy?’’ Gwyn asked the cat. It would be weird if Grumpy was a child, a little voice in her head said. She had her answer when the voice called again and the cat started meowing in response. ‘’That must be your dad looking for you then.’’ The more she listened to that voice, the more Gwyn noticed how sexy it sounded, even if he was only looking for an animal named Grumpy, who, by the way, wasn’t grumpy at all. She wondered if her neighbour looked as hot as he sounded. She had heard the bike so she assumed he must be at least a little attractive, right? In books men on bikes are always hot. You’re not in a book Gwyn, the little voice reminded her. Maybe the man was married and Gwyn was fantasizing about someone who had a gorgeous wife, 3 kids and a cat. Or, the little voice added with a gasp, what if he is super hot and gay?

Gwyn looked at Grumpy who wasn’t grumpy. The cat kept meowing but made no move to leave. ‘’You don’t want to go back?’’

‘’Come here boy, it’s time for dinner,’’ the neighbour said. Gwyn looked at Grumpy and an idea popped into her head. The only way for her to find out what her neighbor with the sexy voice looked like and if he was married or gay was to meet him. And since he seemed to have lost his cat, I would help him find it, she thought. This was not hard at all since the lost cat had befriended her already.

Gwyn stood up and adjusted her shorts and t-shirt. ‘’Let’s go meet your dad Grumpy,’’ she told the cat as she grabbed him and walked to the front door. Let’s hope your dad is hot Grumpy is also what she thought but didn’t say. She walked the stone path leading to his porch and knocked on the door. Grumpy was cradled in her arms like a baby.

When the owner of the house opened the door, Gwyn almost dropped his cat. But the only thing that dropped was her jaw. One look at him and Gwyn prayed that he was not married or gay.

“Grumpy,” he exclaimed, pulling Gwyn out of her prayers to every gods that she remembered the name of.

“Uh…hi…um…I found your cat,” Gwyn moved a very comfortable Grumpy from her arms and handed him to his owner. Gwyn followed the strong muscles of his arms when he reached out to grab the cat. When his large hands touched hers as Grumpy moved from her arms to his, Gwyn thought she could develop a hand fetish just from the thought of his hand tracing her body.

“Thank you so much for bringing him back to me. I was just looking for him,” he told her with a warm smile.

Gwyn pulled herself together and smiled back. “Actually I heard you. I’m your new neighbour.”

“Oh,” he raised his brows at her. Then he beamed at Gwyn. “Welcome then. I’m Azriel.”

Even your name is hot, Gwyn wanted to say. But instead she thanked him and introduced herself. Grumpy jumped off Azriel’s arms. Gwyn giggled when he plopped down next to her and started licking his paw. “You have a very cuddly cat,” she told Azriel.

Azriel snickered. “He has never acted like that with anyone but me. It is actually one of my brothers who named him Grumpy because he is so mean to others.”

“Well he hasn’t been mean to me,” Gwyn shrugged. She found it very easy to relax around him.

“You must be very special then,” he grinned. Gwyn blushed and bit her lip. Am I delusional or is he looking at my lips?, she asked herself. You are talking to yourself while this god is standing in front of you. You're clearly delusional, the little voice, which was clearly her own, replied. She wanted to cover her face so he wouldn’t see how red she was turning.

Azriel cleared his throat and when he spoke, Gwyn thought that he sounded a bit nervous. “Can I offer you dinner sometime? Tonight perhaps?” Gwyn felt her heart beating in her throat. She felt like she was about to either faint or fly at the proposition. Is this a date or is he just trying to thank me? she thought. Who even cares? Just say yes. “Your boyfriend can join us too of course,” Azriel added.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Gwyn added a bit too quickly.

Azriel smirked. “Great.” Gwyn raised a brow at him. Did he just say great? “I mean there’ll be more food for us then,” he shrugged. Gwyn laughed. Maybe her prayers had worked after all.

“I have nothing planned right now so I can help you if you want,” she told him, feeling slightly more confident.

“Even better,” Azriel stepped back and gestured for Gwyn to come in. Grumpy followed them inside the house. As Azriel closed the door behind them, Gwyn looked at Grumpy as if expecting him to read her mind. Have you been playing matchmaker all along? When the cat meowed at her, Gwyn decided to take that as a yes.

[lemariee]

Chapter 19

Rayne politely nodded her head to Celtra acknowledging her presence but glared at Gerda with hostility. The treatment that Rayne openly displayed to Gerda was gradually starting to bother her. Despite her vexation, there was nothing she could do at the moment. It was only a matter of time before she lashed out at any creature who crosses her, starting with Rayne.

"Dinner is served, follow me." Rayne informed before turning to walk down the spiraling stairs.

Both Gerda and Celtra stood up and trailed behind her. Gerda walked in silence occasionally admiring the castle with her thoughts still on her conversation with Celtra. She no longer had an appetite and craved to be alone in her room. The sound of two large doors opening brought her back to reality as they walked into the dining hall. She took note of all the chairs being occupied by various fey.

All their heads turned and the hall grew silent as she made her way towards their table. She kept her expression calm and collected trying to mask her anxious emotions. Her eyes ignored the obvious stares and kept her attention on the back of Celtra's wings. They then came to a stop by the table. Rayne turned to both Celtra and Gerda with a strict glint in her eyes before fixing them on Celtra.

"You will sit here while the pest stands off to the side, she will eat separately with the rest of the servants if Borra permits it." Rayne instructed Celtra, causing Gerda to clench her jaw in frustration.

Celtra simply nodded her head and quietly sat down next to a woman with colorful wings and caramel skin. The women kindly greeted Celtra by nodding her head. The other sitting fey openly glared at Gerda. Rayne pulled Gerda by her arm and dragged her off  to the side until she was several feet away from them.

"You are to remain nonexistent and quiet as the rest of them dine. I'm warning you that any disobedience will not be tolerated by Borra and his inner trusted circle." Rayne hissed at Gerda before turning and walking towards the table to sit down.

"This is unexceptable Rayne! That human should not be in here listening to our every word, she is to not be trusted." A creature with snow white hair and slanted eyes voiced as he glanced at Gerda with caution.

"I understand your concern Udo but she is Borras pet and he specifically instructed that she is to accompany him." Rayne said as several creatures whispered and expressed their disagreement.

"He couldn't have locked the human up in some cage instead? I agree with Udo, her presence here makes me sick along with 'that' scent." The tanned woman sitting next to Celtra hissed, with agitation in her voice.

"Shrike is right, I find her presence here to be unneccessary. Surely a cage would be best for her, it's a poor decision on his part to have her in the same room as us." Another female creature with black hair and slanted eyes said, causing Gerda to glare at her.

"Enough with your complaints! Ini, you should know better than to question Borra's decisions." Rayne said scolding them.

Gerda felt her face harden after hearing the creatures speak of her as if she wasn't in the same space. She eagerly wanted to carve out their tongues with an iron sickle but the most infuriating truth was she knew it wasn't possible. Her stomach grumbled in hunger when the smell of cooked meat and other side dishes hit her nose. Just then the doors at the other end of the hall opened causing the whiny fey to quiet down and glance at the new arrival.

Gerda's stomach twisted with a mixture of resentment and unease when both Borra and Maleficent came strolling in. She noted how he wore a new set of black leather pauldrons and straps along with a matching set of black loose bottoms. All the fey creatures stood from their seats in a respectful manner as they patiently waited for the pair to sit.

Maleficent's striking beauty was beyond poetic words and it was clear why many including Borra was infatuated with her. She had on a long, sheer black dress that caressed her thin form and brought out her glowing pale skin. Her sleek, silky hair flowed behind her in a graceful manner as she confidently walked in with her arms linked with Borra. He had a satisfied grin on his face, appearing to be in a exceptional mood.

Only then did it click in Gerda's head that Maleficent must've been the guest he was expecting when he requested her presence in his chambers. She lightly grimaced in disgust when she realized the two must've been 'intimate' with each other before coming down. It would certainly explain the satisfied expression on Borra's face.

After the two reached their destination, Borra took his seat at the head of the table. Maleficent occupied the first chair that was next to him at the corner. The rest of the fey took their seats, nodding their heads in respect to both Borra and Maleficent. Gerda blinked in discomfort as she dumbly stood off to the side with Maleficent facing her. Although she was a distance away, it still didn't ease her unsettled nerves one bit.

They appeared to not notice her presence but she knew it wouldn't be long before they did. Gerda shifted her eyes away from the paired lovers and decided to study the windows as a distraction. She was in Borra's domain so it would be in her best interest to be obedient even if it killed her pride.

"I knew I smelled 'human' in here. What an obedient pet you are just quietly lingering around not making a sound." Maleficent maliciously teased pulling Gerda's attention from the windows.

Gerda starred back at her with a blank expression trying to disguise the exasperation that rose inside. Maleficent observed Gerda with scathing green eyes roaming over her from head to toe. Gerda noticed the hint of disdain in Maleficent's eyes as she studied her.

"Well, well. How considerate of you to dress her up like some pristine doll, Borra. Perhaps a fancy collar should be added to her colorful wardrobe." Maleficent sharply pointed out, earning a round of snickers from the sitting fey with several throwing taunting smirks towards Gerda.

Gerda felt her hands clench up into fists, feeling a boiling rage consuming her body. She knew Maleficent was purposely trying to get a reaction from her. Gerda also knew that Borra would punish her if she lashed out and that would only provide some sick entertainment for the witch.

"There's no need for it when she's already been marked by me." Borra said with a smirk as he casually spun a sharp, crystal knife on the table with his eyes warning Gerda.

"What do you mean by 'marked'?" Maleficent scoffed with bitterness,  her attention now fully focused on Borra.

"She's branded with my name on her as a form of ownership." Borra casually explained, pointing his knife in Gerda's direction.

"How lovely to hear, though I don't think I'm fond with the idea of your name on another womans skin." Maleficent sharply said, before lightly chuckling at her words and reaching for her cup.

"I assure you there's nothing to worry about when it comes to the human. I prefer a woman who's 'powerful' enough to take out kingdoms with just the snap of her fingers and there's only one who's capable of that. This human on the otherhand is weak and useless, all repulsive to me." Borra explained with a smile as his eyes roamed over Maleficent who then smirked with satisfaction at his words.

"Well, I suppose that's enough talk of your human pet. I'd like to converse about far more interesting matters." Maleficent said before throwing one last mocking glance at Gerda.

Gerda felt her body shake with a deep rooted rage that wanted to burst, killing everything and everyone. She felt her hands sting as her nails dug into the skin of her palms. The pain was nothing compared to what she was feeling. Her body felt restrained in place due to the fact that there was nothing she could do. She couldn't speak and voice what she felt unless she wanted to be punished.

Gerda knew she could only take so much before lashing out at Borra. Perhaps being locked away in her room for the rest of her life was preferable. There was no way she could endure his cruel, mocking words any longer. She was far from weak and useless.

Did he not know how useful she was back in Ulstead? She was capable of taking out men and the strongest creatures around with just her crossbow. Her skills alone could take down kingdoms without the need of magic. There was a reason why the queen chose her to do the dirty work simply because she was the best.

The remainder of dinner was blurred out as she tried focusing on her breathing. She occasionally admired the beautiful orange and red clouds outside the windows. She always did enjoy watching the sun both rise and set back when she was in Ulstead. Gerda recalled finishing her work just in time to admire such beauty. Now it was impossible due to her current circumstances. That was the one simple pleasure in life that she enjoyed when she was finished with her duties.

The sound of chairs moving lured her attention onto the table of surrounding fey creatures. They once again stood from their chairs as Borra and Maleficent linked arms and turned towards the doors they arrived from. The two were most likely heading back to Borra's chambers for the night. Soon the hall grew vacant as the remaining fey left.

"Both of you come with me, time to feed Borra's pest. " Rayne said with sarcasm before walking away.

Gerda followed behind the two with her emotions still going strong. She was fueled with anger despite it being a hour since she endured Borra and Maleficent's cruel treatment. Nothing angered her more than two vile creatures belittling her as if they were above her. She craved to spill their blood even if such an desire was illogical.

She silently brooded over her thoughts until they came to a stop in front of a wooden door. It then opened allowing them to enter. The door revealed a large kitchen with several servants finishing off their duties for the day. They simultaneously paused to stare and whisper amongst each other, aware of Gerda's presence. Rayne continued walking towards a spot in the corner where a small wooden table was set. She then focused her attention on Gerda.

"After today you will be eating in your room for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You will continue accompanying Borra so expect to eat after he is finished and dismisses you." Rayne said, earning a glare from Gerda.

"So I'm expected to starve until he is finished eating?" Gerda hissed between clenched teeth with her temper rising.

"Yes. Perhaps you should be thankful that he's even allowing you to be fed three times a day. Now sit down and enough with your backtalk." Rayne said with a clipped tone before turning to Celtra.

"Escort her back to her room afterwards. I trust you managed to familiarize yourself with the castle by now so you will not be needing me to guide you around." Rayne told Celtra before turning to head out the kitchen.

Both Gerda and Celtra took their seats at the table ignoring the stares from the fey servants. Gerda felt nettled noticing how very few went back to their duties while the rest appeared to be whispering about her. She sighed in relief after a plate of food was brought over. The creature then turned to walk away without bothering to take a single look at Gerda.

"Well today has been quite interesting, I'm surprised you survived dinner without any incidents." Celtra noted as Gerda took a bite out of her chicken.

"What choice did I have, I was out numbered and would like to end my day still intact. Plus I didn't want to give Maleficent what she desired." Gerda admitted after swallowing her food.

"I would pay no mind to Maleficent's comments, I find her to be slightly threatened by you when it comes to Borra." Celtra added causing Gerda to nearly choke on her water.

"What could she possibly be threatened about? He has eyes only for her and has been very vocal what he thinks of me." Gerda said before chewing on some bread with her mind brooding over Borra's cruel words.

"Most of his time will be spent with you, that's enough to make any female jealous despite you being human." Celtra pointed out with an enigmatic glint in her eyes.

"She's a fool if she holds such caution towards me. I'm no more than a dull, boring human to him who manages to get under his skin and set him off." Gerda plainly stated as she tried to quickly finish her meal.

"Perhaps the fact that you're able to get under his skin is enough. Remember what I said earlier, become his acquaintance if you want to make the remainder of your time here livable." Celtra softly said with a sly grin.

"I'm to be his prisoner not friend. I believe I'm finished and would like to head to my room, today has been exhausting for me." Gerda quickly stated before taking one last sip from her cup.

Celtra briefly studied her before nodding her head and standing up to lead Gerda out the claustrophobic kitchen. Gerda then followed behind ignoring the nosey fey servants who still appeared to keep their attention on her. Their sounds of whispers soon blended into the rest of the noise behind her as they exited the kitchen.

Gerda remained collected with a blank face once they roamed the now familiar halls.  She was relieved they were finally headed to the one place she had been desperately craving all day. She needed to be alone and regather her thoughts along with the broken string of emotions. Once they reached her room Gerda nearly rushed inside feeling the instant relief of knowing she would be unbothered.

"You did good today by holding yourself together and containing your emotions. Perhaps Borra may reward you some day." Celtra suggested as Gerda sat down on her bed.

"For being a healer you seem to know a great deal about him, what else do you suggest I do to gain some sort of trust out of him?" Gerda asked, wondering why Celtra was always advising her when it came to Borra.

"Yes, I'm a healer but I do have other gifts such as reading people and having a 'strong' intuition. I suggest you keep practicing on controlling your reactions around him and others. Prove to him that you're more than a weak human...there will come a day very soon where your skills will play an important role." Celtra said with that strange enigmatic spark in her eyes.

"How do you know I won't just take your advice and use it to gain his trust then kill him? Did you suddenly forget how I haunted your kind down and slaughtered them? If anything he might kill me once he grows tired of my presence." Gerda questioned, feeling baffled by Celtra's words.

"I know that if you truly wanted to kill him you would've attempted to do it by now but yet you haven't. I also know that at the moment he loathes you but for some odd reason he still can't bring himself to kill you. Take my advice and use it wisely." Celtra said before softly smiling and leaving the room.

Gerda stared at the spot that Celtra once occupied with a puzzled expression. Her mind pondered over their conversation. She was beginning to wonder if Celtra knew more than she was telling her. She stood up to undo her dress that was starting to feel too tight around her waist and chest. The sound of a tiny solid object hitting the floor caught her attention. She glanced down and felt her heart speed up. It was the thorn she had hid in between her breasts now laying on the wooden floor.

It was almost calling out to her as a reminder of the choice she had today when Borra requested her in his chambers. There were no guards or servants around to stop her from using it against him but yet she didn't. Celtra was correct when she mentioned how Gerda had the opportunity to kill Borra. Yet despite the choice, she couldn't do it. She had many opportunities to do it throughout the day but some urge refrained her from harming him.

Gerda wondered if what Celtra said about Borra resisting his urge of killing her held some truth. Earlier he did seem quite protective of her during the encounter with the creature offering to buy her. She wondered what he would do if she purposely put herself in harm's way. Perhaps one day she will test her luck and find out.

She picked up the thorn and tucked it under her pillow with her mind in deep thought. Gerda became curious as to why he truly kept her alive.She silently threw on a sheer, white nightgown and laid down with the full force of exhaustion taking its toll on her.

[andreagalan]

The king is dead. Long live the Queen.

It’s her second time down in the pit but now she knows its curves and edges. She knows where the wall goes in, where the ground is slippery, where her opponent might trip. She made those mistakes the first time – being too confident, going in too fast, too strong, losing energy and leaving with a split lip, a black eye and scratched skin. Most importantly, Andrea had walked out that first time with nothing to show for it but a bruised ego. 

The anger in that man’s eyes had been enough to make her freeze; it’s not the reaction she thought she’d have, nor the one she wanted. Andrea has a people to lead, a crew that follows her, that looks up to her for leadership… But this idolization has been fading for quite some time. It hasn’t been long since the crown was finally placed on her head, but it’s already proved to be too heavy for her to carry and too large to hold. 

It has been long enough that her life before looks more and more tempting with each passing day. What did I give up? She thinks at least once a week. Why did I want this? She can’t shake the feeling that what she craved for, this power, this position, is meaningless. 

The crown is heavy but it’s all she ever wanted — I did it, she thought back then. I did it, this is mine, this is my victory. I made it. The crown is heavy and covered in blood and it makes her head ache after too long. Andrea looked around when she first put it on, with a grin on her face that could only ever be described as childish. I did it, look! But, just like tonight, she was alone. There’s no one to share a victory with when you’re on top. I did it. She’s repeated it over and over and over, to herself and to others. What else could matter when she’s on top? 

Turns out, the edge is a lot steeper and the fall is a lot deadlier than anyone ever warned her about. 

And now, she’s in it again. Exhausted and embarrassed and still pushing for a victory. She deserves it, her people deserve it. Her breathing is ragged, her body throbbing with pain, but her eyes burn with an unwavering determination to not let herself be walked over again. She’s had enough of that throughout her life — friends, boyfriends, partners, clients, bosses, peers, they’ve all thought so little of her. They still do. 

There’s a crown, heavy to any head it lays upon, but impossible to let go of. Tonight, she can finally claim it as hers. Power is a good look on a woman, Andrea can tell when she looks at herself in the mirror. Andrea might have lost the battle but she’s decided to win the war.

And then she spots her opponent. Andrea’s stomach shrinks, it flips inside her, it makes her sick. If she thought what she’d seen before had been anger, this can only be described as fury, a thirst for blood and a personal vendetta. 

The king is dead. Long live the Queen.

The Brotherhood and her haven’t seen eye to eye in years, almost two decades if her memory doesn’t fail her. She’d been a diamond in the rough in their ranks, a gem if they’d only polished and paid enough attention to her — they didn’t and had the nerve to be resentful when she left for a better bidder. Now, that offer for a greater future is dead, it died with its leader four hundred and twenty-nine nights ago. 

He looks even worse than she does, which can only mean he’s been down here before. And he knows the way out. Andrea cowers in the face of danger and she hates herself for it. With a weapon in her hand, she’d be invincible — it wouldn’t be the first time she’s pointed a gun at him or others who feel the same way about her. JJ warned her, she remembers, but she didn’t listen. His anger is personal, not professional — this is both.

Her strategy is the same as it was the first time around: claws and heels aimed as any exposed skin. And, just like the first time, it’s not enough.

It doesn’t take long. 

The king is dead. Long live the Queen.

Forty seconds until her fist is caught in the air and her arm is twisted back. She cries for help but it doesn’t come. Her head jerks back and she manages to free herself from his grip. Why am I doing this? What if it’s still not enough?

Sixty seconds until her foot is caught now, she loses balance and is on the ground again. She tries to kick him in the groin, catch him off guard, buy herself some time. Why am I doing this? What if I give up? Would he know, would they know? Would he know? But he grips her high heels, one at a time, rips them off her feet and tosses them out of reach. Eighty three seconds until it feels like his fist broke her nose. She cries for help but it doesn’t come. What if I give up? What if I step down?

One hundred and ten seconds until some of her nails snap off from how hard she’s scratching the man’s cheeks and forearms and neck. The others try to dig into his back. What if I step down? What if I don’t want to do this anymore? To an outsider, it might look like they’re hugging. Until she cries for help… It doesn’t come.

What does come is unmistakable shine of metal reflecting light. She knows the sight all too well — the sharp edge of a knife, the coolness of the blade. And she can hear, even from the distance, a crowd-wide gasp. Everyone can tell what it is and everyone can assume what it means, just like her. Bare hands and bare feet and a ripped dress against a strong body and a thirsty knife. All of a sudden, this isn’t a fight, whoever stands victorious won’t display their able body as the prize, but their life, too. 

One hundred seventy seconds. She lies on the cold ground, humiliated in front of her inferiors and her peers, in front of her friends, her foes, her family, her loved ones. Blood trickles down her face, mixing with the dirt beneath her and the sweat of another failed battle. What if I don’t want to do this anymore? What if I can’t? What if there’s someone ready to take over? 

The pain radiates through her body, every bruise and scrape a testament to her defeat. She simultaneously feels the weight of the moment all over her body — and nothing at all. What’s a broken nose on top of a black eye on top of a deep cut on her collarbone on top of a possibly broken rib on top of endless scratches on her elbows and knees and feet and palms on top of a ringing in her ear on top of–

A sort of calm that doesn’t precede a storm, but follows it. What if someone else would do a better job? What if I don't care? What if I run away? What if I leave?

It’s her one opportunity. Andrea feels the weight of his body suddenly be lifted off her, in a way that can only mean someone is carrying him out, dragging him by the sound of it. I did it. Everyone, look, I did it. He claims it and Andrea can hear his grin in that mocking tone. He’s claiming it, he’s saying he’s the one who finally got me. There’s no one around to see how tears well up in her eyes. It’s her one opportunity. Soon, another pair of strong hands drag her out of the Arène, too. It’s my one opportunity.

And she takes it, she closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath. She lets herself feel it. What if…

The king is dead. Long live the—

[pure-garbage]

Saucy Speculation? Assumed Experience Of The Straw Hats

The more time passed since Zoro's resolution to forget about his burgeoning feelings for Lana, the more he realized that the task he'd written off as simple was a lot harder than he'd initially imagined. Meals especially became taxing affairs. Sanji flirted indiscriminately with everyone of the opposite gender and Lana had never been an exception. Now, resentment sparked in Zoro every time Sanji turned his attention to Lana, rage stole his composure whenever the cook managed to earn a smile from the lockbreaker.

'Is this jealousy?'

Zoro stopped jumping Lana, the game where she lost unless she could detect his presence and evade. He didn't trust his hands to stay friendly on her body, wasn't completely sure he could keep his lips from claiming the kiss they craved if she was pinned under him.

"Hey, Zoro?"

"Yeah?"

They were both cross-legged on the deck, preparing to fit in meditation as the sun sank low at their backs.

"It's been a while since you surprise-attacked me. Did you stop on purpose, or just forget?"

Pleasant surprise filled Zoro. She'd noticed and she sounded disappointed.

'She's perceptive. She's just let down because I'm neglecting her training,' he scolded himself.

"Maybe I'm just waiting extra long this time to keep you on your toes," he replied coyly.

"Well, I'm not gonna be caught off guard," Lana smirked.

"You're always off guard," he teased.

"I nearly dodged you the last few times."

"Psh! Liar."

"It's true! Ugh, you're so smug! Maybe one of these days, it'll be me pinning you to the deck, smartass," Lana retorted.

Zoro gulped. The image of her looming over him invaded his mind, straddling his waist, her hands holding his wrists firm at either side of his head.

"You've got a long way to go before you can get the drop on me," he informed her, head spinning a little from his brief, intense fantasy.

"We'll just see about that."

Lana's smile didn't fade as she shut her eyes, relaxing easily into meditation.

'Sometimes it really seems like she's flirting with me,' he thought wistfully. He couldn't help but recall a moment from earlier that same day.

Lana had tugged his shirt at breakfast, leaning close. Her hot, soft breath on the shell of his ear had distracted him effectively from his anger with Sanji's typical antics.

"Five hundred berries says our silver-tongued ladies man is secretly the biggest virgin on the crew," she whispered, eyeing Sanji sidelong.

It had taken all Zoro's self-control to hold back his laughter.

"Lana?"

Back in the present, she opened one eye.

"You're supposed to be centering," she tsked.

"I'll center soon. About that bet you mentioned at breakfast... you'd definitely lose on it."

"Huh? How? You know something about Sanji that I don't? 'Cause I'm pretty confident our boy has never even copped a feel."

"No, you're probably right about that... but you forgot Chopper," Zoro pointed out. "If the bet is on who's the biggest virgin, he's gotta be the front-runner."

"Why, 'cause he's young?" Lana challenged. "Our good doctor's a cute little thing. I'd bet good money he must have had an encounter or two with a doe on his home island."

"That's... not a bad point," Zoro realized.

"The real wild card is actually Luffy," Lana went on.

"I could see that going either way," he agreed.

"Yeah. He's so forward... definitely not the type to shy away if he wanted someone that way, but..."

"Knowing Luffy, I'm not sure he'd be interested."

"Exactly. Wild card, like I said."

"Well you've certainly given this subject some thought," Zoro realized, eyebrows hiking with intrigue.

Lana blushed uncomfortably.

"Only since this morning, really. It's kind of fun to speculate about though. Right?"

"Sure. It does make me curious though... have you done any speculating about me?"

Zoro unfolded his legs, extended them in front of him and crossed his ankles, leaning back languidly on his elbows. The posture was highly intentional. Open, inviting. Lana's blush deepened while Zoro studied her expression.

"Maybe just a little," she admitted, ears blazing red as she avoided his gaze. Zoro grinned in satisfaction.

"Come on then," he urged. "Share with the class."

"We're supposed to be meditating," Lana mumbled. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and placed her hands palms up on her knees.

"Aw, come on!" Zoro purred, nudging her knee with his to spur her on. "Don't get shy on me now."

"I'm not shy, and you're distracting me."

"You're the one who started it. Come on, tell me and I'll leave you alone."

"Let it go, Zoro. I don't want to offend you by making wrong assumptions."

"I won't be offended. Promise. Lana... come on, tell me what you're thinking," he pestered.

"Ohhhhhmmmmm..." she intoned.

"Alright, I'll make you a deal. I'll go first, okay?"

"Huh? First?"

"I'll speculate about you. Then you tell me if my guesses are close. After, you tell me your guesses and I'll say if you're right or wrong."

"I... well..."

"Come on, you aren't curious at all?" he nagged.

"Oh... fine. But only to see if my impressions are close to the truth," she sighed in surrender. "Go on then. What's your prediction?"

"Oh. Uh..."

Zoro hadn't actually thought that far ahead.

"Well..."

He cleared his throat, considering what he knew of her past.

'She's a little older than me, too. I forget that a lot.'

"I'm waiting," Lana reminded him impatiently.

"Right. I... well, you're not totally inexperienced," he ventured. 'She's worried about offending me, but I'm the one who needs to be careful. I can't upset her... but would she be angrier if I assume she's too innocent or too worldly? Damn it, I put myself in a tight spot here!'

"Hm. Go on," she encouraged him.

"Well, I suppose... I imagine you've had a lover or two. In the past, that is. Obviously."

He coughed, awaiting her verdict with rare anxiety coiling in his gut. To his chagrin, her expression was one of complete embarrassment.

"I... well, I..."

"Not like I'd ever judge," he assured her hastily. "Making fun of Sanji is fine because he's so... himself. But I'd never seriously hold someone's experience against them. Or lack of... I mean..."

"No, I know, I know," Lana sighed. "It's just... well, I... haven't. Which makes it really rich that I would poke fun at Sanji for being the same way. Potentially, that is."

"You... haven't? Ever? Not even once?" Zoro gaped.

"You said you wouldn't judge!" Lana pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not, I swear! It's just, you're so beautiful, I just assumed-"

The words slipped out before Zoro could stop them. Lana's pout disappeared, her eyes widening and her hands flying up to cover her mouth, near comical shock overtaking her expression.

"Zoro!" she gasped.

"Um..."

He knew his face was bright red. His mind raced, trying to come up with something he could say as damage control that didn't walk the compliment back so far as to land him in hot water.

"Well... thank you."

Lana's hands fell, revealing a smile so brilliant that its light momentarily blinded Zoro, wiping his mind clear of all thought. By the time he recovered his wits, she was already speaking again.

"But yeah, I only ever had one boyfriend, and we were so young. We fooled around some, sure, but never... uh, anyway, after that, the Seekers kidnapped me and I didn't really have a chance... or rather... ugh. Yeah, I haven't. I guess that's the bottom line."

"Huh. That makes sense."

'This has been even more revealing than I'd hoped,' Zoro thought.

"I guess it's my turn now," Lana said nervously.

"Yep. So?"

"Ok. Well... speculation. So, you've got your rough edges, right? Like, a lot of rough edges."

Zoro frowned, but didn't interrupt.

"... and you're very... um, very... you know."

Zoro raised an eyebrow high.

"I don't," he assured her. "We had a deal, don't forget."

"Ugh, let me find the right words!" Lana snapped, flustered. The suspense of her pondering was killing him. "Ok. You're really strong, right? And... I have a hard time imagining you... well, that's to say... it's just..."

Lana took a deep breath, steadied herself and collected her thoughts.

"Can I just be really blunt?" she asked tersely.

"That's the whole idea, isn't it?"

"Okay. Well, I mean, you know... obviously you could have any girl you wanted, so my assumption is that... you've had... a few."

Lana's face slid into her hands, ponytail falling to obscure her mortification even further. So she missed the way Zoro's amazement left his mouth hanging open.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, a slow grin spreading over his features.

"Yeah. Of course, not in a judgy way, okay?"

"Obviously."

"So? Did you?"

"Have a few girls? Since I could have any I want?"

"Don't be insufferable about it," Lana scolded him.

"Right."

"Well?"

Zoro sighed heavily, flattery melting away as the time came to own up to reality. A promise was a promise, but he found himself wishing he didn't have to shatter Lana's impression that he was an experienced lover.

"Not quite."

"Huh?"

"Truthfully? I only did it once," he admitted.

"Really?!"

"Yep. Sorry to disappoint."

"That's not a disappointing thing to hear. It's more than me, at least. So?"

"Eh?"

"Come on, I shared my reasons."

"Yeah, your reasons for never doing anything! It's not the same!"

"Hey, I've done some things!" Lana protested. "Just not... the main thing. Zoro! I don't need details, I'm just curious! At least tell me how old you were."

'She's... very interested.'

Zoro couldn't deny that her desire to know more intrigued him. Did it mean anything? Or was she just being nosy?

"Fine. I was seventeen. It was after I chased some thugs out of a noodle shop. The woman who ran it was... well, very grateful, I guess."

"Well weren't you gallant!" Lana teased. "A regular hero, huh?"

"I was just hoping to get some free soup."

"Did you?"

"Oh yeah. Plenty of soup."

"Prrrr... so, she was older," Lana assumed.

"No!" Zoro grumbled.

"She was!" Lana gasped melodramatically. "How much older?"

"Meditation time now."

"Zoro!"

"Centering."

"Oh, come on!"

"Ohhhmmmm..."

"Ugh, fine. Let's just sit here, breathe good and not think about anything," she sighed.

Zoro held his composure to avoid being pried for more details, but inwardly, his mind raced. Lana had given him a lot to think about.

After a few minutes, he risked a peek at her. Those lips of hers were parted, steady, measured breaths passing over them.

'If she thinks I could have any girl I want, does that include her? Maybe I could take that kiss after all.'

Zoro closed his eyes again, finally focusing on meditating.

___________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[maaaxx]

I'm absolute shit at writing Azula but I think she's my favorite person to analyze and build backstory for.

Because ESPECIALLY if you disregard the comics, theres so much to work with and so many different head cannons and theories as to why Azula is the way she is.

Like with Zuko, the show pretty much answers it. He was abused (emotionally and physically) by his father and craved his validation and love and attention etc. His mother adored him and sort of acted like this "there is some goodness and gentleness in you too" model. Then his mom disappeared and Iroh took care of him. If you don't count Azula (and Lu Ten, Azulon, etc because theyre a completely different conversation), Zuko's relationships very clearly feed into his whole ordeal.

But Azula is a lot more... complex. Because A) her backstory isn't nearly as prevalent as Zuko's so we don't see it as much, and B) most of Azula's relationships with people and the dynamic of the people around her aren't made as clear as Zuko, they're implied at best.

Her father being manipulative and her mother and Iroh having a complicated relationship with her are about the only things we know for sure about her.

It's hard to argue on Zuko's relationships with his parents, but with Azula, it's more complicated.

Is Azula's relationship with Ursa purely due to Ozai's manipulation, and Ursa genuinely did try her best with Azula? Or did Ursa have more to do with that? Like if Ozai wasn't a factor from the time Azula was born, would Azula still resent Ursa to some extent?

(I think it's a combination of the two, but Ozai is vastly more responsible for Azula's mental breakdown)

Same with Iroh. Does Azula not like Iroh also seemed to favor Zuko, and he never tried to get to know her? Maybe Iroh see's a lot of himself in Azula and thats why he was put off by her. Maybe she adored Lu Ten and she held a grudge against Iroh for not avenging him. Or maybe her contempt for Iroh is just Ozai's influence.

There really isn't a lot known about Azula and I think she's all the more interesting for it.

[natureplay]

୨୧Chapter V • Surprise Encounters

୨୧Masterlist

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Word count: 1.6k

Receiving your paycheck can be one of the best feelings ever, but there is something even better: spending it. Taking out those crisp bills and feeling their crispness between your fingers. It's an incredible sensation. Nothing compares to the satisfaction of knowing that your money is going toward something you need or want.

You are walking around the grocery store, checking off items on your list like some sort of grown-up. It's a strange feeling, considering how you were so used to tagging along with your mother on these trips. But here you are now, all by yourself managing to get everything you need for the week.

You’re walking around the snack aisle, looking at the shelves. A variety of chips and biscuits. Your stomach sends signals to your brain that it’s craving something salty so you grab a large bag of pretzels scanning over it.

Somebody calls your name from behind. When you turn around, you’re met with the familiar face of Eric.

For the past several weeks, he's made it a point to take every opportunity to talk to you. Whether you’re eating lunch with Hunnigan and he just has to join you, sitting at your desk taking a little break or simply passing by in the hallway, he always makes sure to find an excuse to strike up a conversation. Every time he talks with you, you feel his voice blossom and his face warms into a beam of happiness.

You didn’t like that. Well, maybe a little bit. Who doesn’t enjoy getting attention from others? It makes you feel a tad bit more special and wanted. But with Eric was different. Not just because he was borderline annoying with his very obvious interest in you— but also because you don’t date co-workers. You made that mistake already and it ended terribly.

“Hey!” Eric says.

You smile awkwardly and mutter a little hi to him. Eric smiles back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t want to be rude and ignore him, though you could do that. Just turn around and leave. Pretend you never saw him.

“How are you doing, kid ?”

‘Kid’. That word immediately brings forth a feeling of resentment within you. It's as if he is superior to you and that you require his guidance to make it through life. You hate the way it makes your skin crawl every time he utters that moniker. You do nothing about it.

“Just doing a bit of grocery shopping. What about you?”

“Same here”

Another thing about Eric is that, yes, he does strike up conversations with you every single chance he gets, but he doesn’t know how to continue them so you’re left standing in an abyss of awkwardness. You’re sure he shares the same feeling.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“I am a little bit nervous but I’m sure we’re going to do great…” You quickly start thinking of any excuse to escape this discomfiting situation.

Eric nods and stares at you.

“Well, I need to hurry. Don’t want to lose the bus. You know how these lines get” You laugh stiffly and start walking away before he can offer to help you by giving you a ride home. Your poor nerves can’t handle that, “See you tomorrow!”

As you’re walking away, you silently say sorry to all the snacks you couldn’t buy today—next time for sure.

You go straight to check-out not wanting to have another encounter with Eric. You told Hunnigan about what he’s been doing. She has the same thoughts as you but she enjoys teasing and making fun of you for it.

The line at check-out is short. Surprisingly, not that many people do their shopping on a random Tuesday evening. Except you and, well, Eric apparently.

You start walking towards the bus station. You're carrying two large and heavy bags in both of your arms. It's definitely giving you a bit of a workout. You can't imagine how sore your hands are going to be.

You didn't buy groceries just for yourself, oh no. The sweet old lady that gave you cookies when you moved on asked very nicely if you could also buy her groceries. You couldn't say no, especially after she said her grandson hasn’t been to visit her in over four months. So, guilt pushed you to help her.

It's not the first time you're helping her. You've helped her with cleaning, grocery shopping, and washing dishes. She always makes sure she gives you a little something in return that is in the form of her baking and cooking. She's been inviting you over for dinner where you both sit on the couch, eat one of her spectacular dishes, and watch the television and yell at the characters when they do something stupid.

The bus arrives in front of the apartment complex and you struggle to carry both of the bags and try to balance yourself.

You get in the elevator—because there is no way you're taking the stairs— and press the button to your floor. You set the bags down to give your poor arms a little break. You used to be a regular at the gym, maybe you should start doing that again. 

The elevator doors open and you're met with the familiar hallway with peeling wallpaper and a questionable taste in tiles.

You enter your apartment first, setting both the bags on a kitchen counter and catch your breath for a little while. You take off your coat and toss it somewhere, not even looking where it lands, just hoping it's on the couch or somewhere nearby.

You take your neighbour's groceries and make the short journey to the door across the hall. You knock twice, taking a moment to wait for a response. While you stand there, you can't help but imagine what Mrs Ledger’s grandson is like. Most likely a loser who doesn’t care about his family.

Mrs Ledger hasn’t shown you pictures of him like any other grandparent would. She said that on the off chance you’re both here at the same time, she wants to embarrass him as much as possible with his naked baby photos.

Your nice neighbour opens the door and greets you with a warm smile.

“Come in, dear,” she says. Her voice is warm and welcoming.

You step into the apartment and you are struck by the familiar scent; it is a combination of nostalgia, reminiscence, and childhood memories that each grandparent has. You can't help but inhale deeply; you remember the days of visiting your own grandparents, and how their homes were warm and inviting. You wander to the small kitchen and set the bag on the counter.

“I hope I didn’t convenience you too much” She starts taking the items out of the bag and setting them down.

“It was no trouble, really”

By this point you know where every time needs to be stored. You grab the two bags of flour and put them away in the pantry.

"Thank you so much, dear, You've been a real help," Mrs Ledger says with warmth in her voice "I spoke to my grandson while you were away. He said he's coming over, to visit" Her eyes light up. So he does remember he has a family.

"That's nice... When is he coming?"

"Just about now, he said he's bringing me dinner" She replied with a wide grin, her cheeks glowing as bright as her spirit.

You nod; You didn’t want to be here when he arrived.

“Do you want to come over for dinner, dear?”

You freeze for a moment. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You needed to get all the sleep you could get. Tomorrow you were going to assist Eric Williams on his mission. You didn’t know how long it was going to take, but you knew it was going to be a long and exhausting day.

“I would really love to, but I have this really important thing tomorrow and I need my mind to be—I’m really sorry,” you say sincerely but gladly at the same time.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad. I don’t know when he’ll come visit again” While she still has the smile on her lips, her voice and eyes betray the poor old lady. You can’t help but pity her. From what you’ve heard, she doesn’t have any other family.

“You never know” You smile and head out the door.

“Thank you again, sugar!”

Leon is sitting in his car, head resting against the steering wheel, feeling completely overwhelmed. He's been feeling down for quite a while now and finds himself unable to shake the deep-seated sadness he feels.

Almost four months since his last visit to his grandmother, the only living family he has left.

Life and work got in his way multiple times. And whenever he had time to spare, he was moping around his house trying to get himself to get up and check on her.

He grabs the dinner he promised his grandmother. He still has the spare key she gave him so going inside was no problem.

He walks up the stairs with his head empty and body on autopilot.

He’s about to open the door to the apartment but somebody else opens it for him.

You.

You are standing at the door, looking up at him with confused eyes. He’s equally as confused. What were you doing here?

“Leon!” your voice sounds so surprised. You look back inside, then at him again. Gears seem to be grinding in your head then you make a sudden connection.

“I was just leaving. Good night, Mrs Ledger!”

You almost bump into him in your hurry. You open the door and slip inside your apartment. The one next to his grandmother’s. How interesting.

୨୧Masterlist

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[spookychick78]

End Of The Line

Chapter 22: Black

Thomas Hewitt X AFAB!OC

Word Count: 2882

Warnings: None

Ronnie's labored breath seemed to reverberate off the concrete walls, filling Thomas with unrivaled dread as he watched her rest. With no sunrise or sunset to tell the days apart the only indication that a significant amount of time had passed was her body. Swollen from head to toe, the braces around her wrists and ankles had begun to dig further into her skin as she grew. The only comfort she seemed to find of late was the cool touch of the floor she was curled up on, though Thomas couldn't imagine it did any good for her increasingly fragile bones. It was painful just to watch her move in the last few days. Her spine seemed to have given up trying to stay straight under the pressure of housing his child within her small frame. Occasionally, she would try. With a hand on the small of her back, she would lean into it and try to hide the way she winced as her body struggled to find relief in the seemingly simple, yet difficult movement. True to her character, he hadn't heard her complain, not once. She suffered in silence, but he was far from blind to it. Anytime food was offered from the small hole Hoyt had made above them, Thomas was quick to give it all to her. Naturally, she would scold him until he took at least one bite, but though he was starving and there was no denying that, he couldn't eat. Not when he was forced to watch her own body chip away at itself to keep the child he'd put in her alive. It was killing her and she couldn't hide that fact from him any longer. It was written all over her stretched thin skin and embedded deep within those dark circles that framed her tired eyes. There was a shadow that seemed to hang around her and each day that passed it seemed to come closer, slowly taking pieces of her for itself. In doing so, it taunted him. Those were pieces she'd trusted him with that he had failed to protect, pieces he'd damned just by touching her. The shadow never failed to remind him of that, it didn't matter who's face it wore and it wore many, but he knew each and every one of them all too well. After all, he'd worn them himself. Thomas had been the shadow, they were one in the same not too long before, but now it had become its own entity, separate from him and resentful of that fact. It was starved, just as they were and she was the reason. He had turned away from it for her, now it had come to claim him once more by consuming the only light he'd ever known and it would do so with a smile.

Footsteps from above redirected his attention. He slowly lifted his gaze to that hole in the ceiling and waited. More often than not it was Hoyt, who's face was equally as taunting as the shadow's. He would peer down with that same smile too when his empty eyes drank in Ronnie's withering image. He didn't have to use words to belittle Thomas anymore, that satisfied grin did the job well enough. It got bigger each time he walked by, he knew it wouldn't be long until those pained screams he so craved would fill the Hewitt house to the brim. Thomas wondered who's cries would satisfy him more, because he knew it wasn't about her now, in fact it never was. This war Hoyt was waging had started long before Ronnie, she was simply caught in the crossfire and unfortunately, something he could use. She was the perfect weapon, forged in a love that never should have been and wrapped so tightly around Thomas' heart that when her breath abandoned her lungs, it wouldn't beat the same. It's rhythm was already becoming more unsteady with each passing second that drew her closer to death's door.

The footsteps halted and to Thomas' relief, it was Mama's face that came into view. She gave him a forced smile before she turned to retrieve a basket to lower down to him.

"Here, there's water and a little bit of food I managed to scrounge up. Should last at least the day if you two can ration it right," she said solemnly as she began to lower it down.

Thomas stood and met it halfway. He took out two mason jars filled with water and set them on his work table before he grabbed what was left. A couple of corncobs, a slice of bread and what looked like dried meat. He looked at it skeptically before he looked back up to Mama, who let out a small laugh.

"Don't worry, it's just deer. I wouldn't dream of feedin' her anything else," Mama said, but that little smile quickly faded, "how's she doin'?"

Thomas looked over at Ronnie, who's face contorted. Even in sleep she didn't seem to find comfort. He returned his gaze to Mama and let out a heavy breath. Her brow furrowed and she let her focus fall to her hands.

"I know," she whispered as tears began to creep out of her eyes, "don't know why I keep askin'."

She quickly reached up to wipe away a few of those stray tears. She felt guilty allowing herself to cry in front of him, she knew his heart ached far worse than she could imagine. Still, the mother in her shared some of that pain and if she could have, she would have taken it all from him. He was already grieving her and it was fear that had driven him to it. He was alone with his thoughts down there and Luda knew all too well what a guilty conscience was cable of.

"She's still here, Tommy," she said as she forced herself to look at him again, "don't let him take her from you while she's still right there. He can't."

That expression he wore felt like a knife to the heart. He doubted every word that had come out of her mouth. Those lines between his brows were deeper than ever and his eyes seemed a darker blue, saddened and heavy as a storm. His exhaustion was so evident that it looked as though he'd aged decades, but that wasn't what wounded her so brutally. Behind those lines, hidden under that tired face Luda saw her baby. Broken and scared, just as she had found him all those years ago. That image breathed life into those same emotions she'd felt then, rage, a mother's fury, only this time it wasn't faceless men who were to blame. She knew exactly who'd done this to him and it made her blood boil that physically she wasn't capable of doing what it was she wanted to do to that bastard. To Hoyt.

"You listen to me, Tommy," Luda began sternly, "Ronnie is going to make it. You take that doubt and you take those demons and you send them straight down to hell, right along with Hoyt, cause that's where they belong. Not here, not with her and not with that baby. I have watched that woman endure a lifetime of horror since the day she set foot in this godforsaken place and not once has she surrendered to it. She has been knocked down by satan himself every single day and she looked him right in the eye every time she stood back up. So that's what you're gonna do, you understand me? You're gonna stand up and you're gonna steel yourself and you're gonna do it for her, because she needs you, Thomas. She did the impossible, she found a way to forgive us, to save the unredeemable, 'cause let's face it, we were damned before her. I imagine it took the strength of a thousand men to do that and then she found it within herself to love us after what we did to her. She's one hell of a woman, Tommy and it's her turn to be saved."

Thomas tried to blink away the sting of tears as he looked up at his mother, "How?" He managed to breathe out.

Luda smiled down at him with wet eyes, "You know how," she said, gentler now, "it's in every good man and you are good, Thomas. I felt it the first time I held you in my arms. This life wasn't meant for you, but the one you found in her, that is. I know you're scared, baby, it's only natural, but you won't fail her. Love is a man's greatest strength, it endures even when physical strength fails and most men are too blind, too selfish to figure that out, but you ain't. That's what gonna save her Tommy, bein' completely and undeniably loved, even in her darkest hour. You'll be her light, her strength, the air in her lungs and the beat of her heart when it falters, I know you will. And you'll live, all three of you, simply because you love her."

Thomas closed his eyes and emptied his lungs. He was determined to push out all of the fear that he had allowed to infiltrate his heart with that breath. When he inhaled, he let her words find their way into him. Gently, but with unbreakable firmness, as was the way of the woman who had spoken them, they latched on to the deepest part of him and in doing so, set fire to the pillars of doubt Hoyt had built within him. The blaze washed him clean. When he opened his eyes, Luda's chest swelled with pride, because she saw him. The man she'd always known he would be, clad in the impenetrable armor of kindness, grace and unconditional love for a woman.

"You look him in the eye, Tommy," Luda said with a nod.

Thomas gave her a nod in response. The sound of the front door slamming tore Luda away, but he didn't let it take what she had given him. Instead, he turned his gaze to Ronnie, who had begun to stir. He grabbed hold of one of the mason jars and strode over to her. When she reached for his hand, he set the jar down and he held her's tightly as he helped her sit up. Once she was steady, she took her hand and placed it on her forehead as she winced.

"That damn floors gonna be the death of me," she grumbled under her breath.

Thomas shook his head and couldn't help but let out a chuckle before he said, "No."

Ronnie met his eyes and her expression softened when she saw how serious he was, despite her lighthearted intentions. She took her hand from her forehead and let it rest on his masked cheek to brush her thumb over its leathery surface.

"You're right," she said with a soft smile, "it's gonna take a whole lot more than a permanently bad back to get rid of me."

He let his own hand find its way to the back of her head before he pressed his lips against her's. Her breath was taken momentarily by the force behind it, but she slowly let it fall out into him as she relaxed in his grip. His fingers curled in her hair tightly before he broke away to rest his forehead on her's and let his own breath out.

"Mmm," Ronnie hummed as she closed her eyes and relished in the feeling of his skin pressed to her, even if it was just the top of his head, it brought the kind of relief only he could give her, "I missed that."

He let out that breathy chuckle again and nodded in agreement.

"Though I guess even if we wanted to, this would just get in the way," she said with a glance down at her now beyond swollen abdomen.

He shook his head against her's and let the sound of her own laugh further comfort him as he placed a hand over her belly. He lifted his head as the sound died out and her smile faded. Her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together as she kept her eyes focused on his hand. It wasn't physical pain she was displaying, Thomas knew well what that looked like by now, it was something else.

"It's been days since I've felt anything," she said just above a whisper.

His chest threatened to tighten in on itself again, but Mama's words were quick to come to his defense and he took what she told him to do to heart. He steeled himself. This was her pain, of course he shared it, but she needed him to be steady, her rock.

"I keep tellin' myself not to worry, that maybe it's for the best, but," she paused and pressed her lips together again, holding back tears he wished she would just let fall, "it's not what I wanted. Not for us. Maybe that's selfish of me, to have wanted this child to live given the circumstances, but I wanted to be selfish this time, just this once. I wanted to believe we had a chance. I want to believe that there's a place out there for the three of us, where it's never dark. Some white picket fence surrounding us, a yard with the greenest grass, beds, air conditioner," she let out a little laugh, "somewhere we could be happy without bein' so afraid to give into it. I wanted that so damn bad, but I don't see it anymore. I did for a moment, when we walked out that door, clear as day, but now. . . It seems so far away and I don't feel anything movin' in me."

Don't grieve her while she's still right there was all Thomas could think of as she spoke. He grabbed hold of her hand and placed it over her stomach, then he placed his on top. She looked up at him with those glassy blue eyes and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Still right there," he whispered, "right here."

Her chest started to rise and fall rapidly as she began to lose her battle against tears. They welled up until her eyes were flooded and then they rolled down her flushed cheeks as she finally released the sobs she had held in so desperately. As her head began to hang, he took her into his arms so she could fall apart. She clung to him with all she had in her, the cloth of his shirt balled up tightly in each of her fists as he held her as close as he could.

"I don't think I have it in me," she cried with her cheek pressed against his chest, "tell me how I'm supposed to do this, Tommy. How do I do this when I'm so scared. I've never been so scared."

He had so many things to tell her. He wanted to tell her that he had the utmost faith in her, that he'd never met a woman with as much strength as she had. Not even Luda Mae Hewitt, his own mother, could compare. Her bravery was unmatched, her courage unyielding and if anyone could do it and claw their way out of hell itself afterwards, it was her. She was heaven sent, backed by angels and she herself was one, in the truest sense of the word. She wasn't delicate, she wasn't gentle, not internally. She was intimidating, beautifully untamed and filled with the imperishable fury of justice. Incapable of failure.

He took her face in his hands and guided her back to him. He didn't wipe away her tears, he let them continue to fall as her gaze penetrated his own with silent desperation. Through all of that pain written in her reddened cheeks and nose, in the way her brows knitted together atop her bloodshot eyes and in her parted lips he saw raw, unmistakable beauty. He figured his smile must have confused her, but for the first time in months he felt grounded in confidence, because everything that ran through his mind was truth. There was not a force in this world that could defeat them as long as they were united.

"Together," Thomas said, louder than he'd ever spoken before.

Ronnie didn't say a word in response, but she didn't have to. He had said it all with just the one. Her brows slowly began to unfurl and that sting in her eyes faded as she allowed him to give her renewed resilience. Her breath steadied and a smile of her own, smaller than usual, but genuine as ever pulled at her lips. Of course, that was the answer. It always had been. A rush coursed through her body and granted her a release that broke their silence, but not with words. It was faint at first, but then it grew. The sound of water greeting the ground below her filled the room. She didn't look away from him, nor did he look away from her. Instead, they listened, her face held firmly in his hands. Their smiles disappeared and were replaced with knowing expressions of acceptance. Time had decided they no longer needed it on their side.

[arziaisfrench]

▪︎ IPKKND Ep 33 recap : Khushi leaves Arnav

You can see in his eyes how much he was worried and how much he missed her.

> At this point in the story, I feel like I need to adress the intensity of their relationship : I can understand people not getting how these two are already so intense in their feelings while in fact not having known each other for that long. But I believe the intensity of emotions aren't always in correlation with time. Yes the attraction between them is very strong but let's not disregard the pure bond between them. Them exchanges about faith was the proof of them bonding in the most natural way and even despite themselves. And I think it's because both of them have a common innocense, both have inner childs that crave for the same things, since both are orphans. And I believe both crave simplicity. Simplicity over bonding with someone. You know, when you're very young, you don't have expectations when you're meeting people even when they are very different from you (socially and else). You don't try to protect yourself from any fear of being hurt. You just let life happens. And that's what happened between them when they met the two first time. And both understood how rare their meeting happened, and I do feel they are very aware of how their bond is simple and easy. Their desire to talk to each other is not so difficult to arouse, they feel the natural inclination to interact with each other.

"-Are you alright? -Only Asr can ask if I'm okay after what I went through" Khushi takes his question as a way to dismiss the seriousness of the dangerous situation he had put her in. Soon she'll understand that it's his way to show his concern and that he actually deeply cares.

One thing I'll like to hightlight here, is how apologizing is something terribly hard to do for Arnav. To apologize for what he has done will bring too much attention on the fact that he made a mistake. I think he's ok to show her that he regrets his actions but still very much struggling with the idea of apologizing.

Why? Because he doesn't want people to know that himself can feel ashamed for his own actions. He doesn't want to be seen as someone who can be vulnerable. That shame is because he (just like Khushi) wants to prove people and the world that he's worthy. Arnav might be proud to having build a powerful and succesful empire, but deep down Asr persona hides a low self-esteem/worth. He doesn't believe he can be loved for who he really is.

I really think he didn't even thought about apologizing to her for a second, he's not ready yet. He was instead ready to show her his gentle side.

"In your life, nothing happens by itself. Everything is done by you, right?"

Arnav was willing to explain to her but she didn't let him. She's mirroring what he used to do to her when she tried to explain to him when he was questioning her intentions. That's why she doesn't try to be understanding. She would rather leave with the thought of him being a bad person ... for her to not miss him too much when she's gone hmhmmm haha !!

He doesn't get angry or annoyed when she cuts him off. He feels too guilty. He knows him not apologizing is wrong, but he simply cannot do it. He doesn't even know how to. He's psychologically incapable of apologizing and it's Khushi that will help him try, and then being able to apologize even to Lavanya ! She will help without being aware of it and for a precise reason I'll explain in the future !

I really think the writers probably got helped by actual professionals in psychiatry and psychology cause the amount of details and layers are way too excellent !

Khushi reacting that way is not helping, it highlights even more him being weak. Because indeed, someone who has done something wrong and still cannot apologize is weak. But her anger is competely valid. And he knows it, that's why he won't developed resentment towards her because of her reaction.

When she announced him she's quitting her job, he was so shocked! He doesn't even want to take her resignation letter.

It wasn't part of his plan. He didn't want her to leave, he was already ordering people in the office to get more respectful of her.

If she's quitting, it means she never came to try to seduce him for his money. He was wrong.

This is probably my fav shot from the series ! You can see Khushi's hand holding Arnav's one, she's not holding the letter, but his hand ! While Arnav's hand lingers in the air after she let his go (he was holding on her hand too, forgetting the letter). I love how they made the letter just an excuse to touch each other one last time.

It's quick but very telling of about how her behaviors can be very often contradictory. Let's not forget that she is in denial about her feelings. But she can still feel them. That's why, I don't believe Khushi is suffering from depression, cause she is aware, conscious of her desires, disturbing thoughts and experiences. She understand how her body feels when she interacts with Arnav.

Khushi's halucinations about Arnav and other people aren't only used to make us laugh, I really believe they are evidences of my theory, Khushi's denial.

She is not just a simply bubly type of girl, she's definitely hyperactive, which is another after-effect of her trauma and her denial (her unconscious defense mechanism) !

Sanaya Irani not putting extra layers in her delivery at this stage of Khushi's journey is exactly what she needed to do, when you're in denial, you are not conscious of how complexe you really are.

Her bubbly persona is not just her "nature", nah, it's also her way to filter and conceal the intense pain she can feel. Khushi also compartmentalize many elements of her life especially her feelings. It's a way to manage the anxiety, stressful situations and emotions. And to compartmentalize them is not a bad thing actually, it's often quite healthy. That's why she never saw Lavanya in a bad light or try to resent her because both were in love with the same man.

Seeing her willing to leave makes Arnav feel lost and helpless. She didn't have to give him directly her resignation letter. She knew what she was doing.

She was giving him a last chance !! "Apologize to me Arnav Sign Raizada. Tell me not to go. Make me stay. I can't stay after all the humiliations I had to bear. I need to save my honor and self respect. Why do leaving you make me feel weird tho?"

I love mani new nickname for Khushi "lionne" lol, that's exactly how Arnav saw her : her fierce lionne, an equal !

It's funny how Khushi refused to let Arnav speak lol, it's because she didn't want him to break the adrenaline rush she needed to announce she's breaking the contract. But then, look at her eyes, they are lowkey begging him to say something, to stop her from leaving.

She even stops in front of the door and looks at him one last time to give him a chance to stop her from leaving! ! "Arnav please challenge me one more time! I want to see you again !"

The doors and how both interact around doors, windows, entrances in houses and cars (Arnav's car) are always giving us hints about their dynamic and what they unconsciously want and feel. I'll probably do a thread about those scenes in the future.

Arnav wanted so badly to stop her, damn it why didn't you SIR ?! I think he never actually truly wanted her to leave him. Never.

Both of them are thinking of their moment of "awarness". The moment their understood the strong bond and the fire they felt towards each other. They don't want to part ways, not one bit.