#this hurts so much more once you know what happens to her

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader

"Mama."

"That's right little man. That's mama." Orion tucks his face into Simon's chest, sleepy and confused. Simon knows he doesn't understand what's happening, why his mother is asleep in a bed, asleep for days without waking, asleep and hooked up to too many machines.

"Mama!" He screeches, swinging his body backwards, and Simon has to hold him tight, trying to keep him close. Cami says he's struggling, doesn't understand why he's at their house all the time, doesn't understand what's happened to his mum. He's confused, and scared, just a little boy in a world trying to hurt him.

"She's sleeping bub. Mama is sleeping." He bows his head, breathing his son in, swallowing the rattle in his chest. "She's sleeping."

You're sinking into that bed.

It's becoming a part of you, becoming all of you, and no matter how many times they bathe you and turn you and change the sheets, you stay tethered to it. In the mornings, when he begins his watch, he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth, keeping his eyes closed and wishing on nothing that yours will open.

"I'm sorry." He folds your left hand in his. They had to take the rest of your finger, all the way down due to infection, an agonizing reminder of your pain, your suffering. His failure. "I need you to wake up," he croaks in a voice he's only just learned to recognize, one filled with despair, with mourning. "You have to wake up. For Orion and the baby. For me."

He pleads. He bargains. He begs. He promises.

"I'm done now, mama. I'm done. I'll never leave you again. Never leave any of you. 'm taking a desk job, so I need you to wake up so you can be sick of me hanging around the house all day."

Still, nothing.

Once a week, your doctor wheels an ultrasound in to check on the baby. He stares at the screen with tears in his eyes, his hand covering yours.

It's a girl. A perfectly healthy little girl.

He didn't mean to find out but in the pandemonium of those first few days when they brought you here, it slipped his mind. The first time someone talked about the baby, they said her.

"Her heartbeat is strong, and there are no signs of trauma to the placenta. She's okay." 

They left the room afterwards. Left him to his ugly, rib splitting sobs. Left him to press his palm to your belly and rest his head on the bed beside you, soaking the sheets with his tears.

A girl. Your Phoenix.

Today, the doctor asks him to step outside.

"We need to discuss some potential plans of care."

"What do you mean?"

"She's close to delivering, Simon. If she doesn't wake, we'll need to do a c-section." His heart stops. That's not supposed to be for months yet. How long have you been here? 

"I thought... I thought we had more time."

"We do. Another five weeks or so, but I want to put a plan together, so you have time." Time. He needs more of it. So much more of it with you. He nods, and she gives him a sympathetic smile. "Simon, a newborn and a toddler is a lot of work. I want you to prepare for this possibility, okay?" He pushes it from his mind.

"She'll wake up before then." What the fuck does he know about these things? Nothing. But he refuses to live in a world where you miss the birth of your daughter, where you miss her first breath, her first cry, where you miss the moment where Orion holds his baby sister for the first time.

"Simon-"

"She will," he glares and she pats his shoulder before leaving him in the same spot, frozen, staring at the door to your room.

When he sinks back into his chair, resumes his post, he tugs your hand back into his.

"You'll wake up, mama. I know you will."

[moon-us-sun]

Sometimes my mind feels like this.

I can feel when a storm is about to come and even though it’s scary, it almost feels magical

My heads a mess, I know that

I know that I will forever have that part in me that hurts and cries

That’s in search for a love of a man that never loved me. That never showed me what it was like to be loved right.

He did his part to make sure I was alive but never the part to make sure that I lived.

My heads a mess, I know

But if you listen closely you would hear the way I feel about this world

How I’m amazed of the beautiful colors of fall in the trees and how I wish I could sleep on a cloud

You would be able to see thru my eyes the beauty of the people

The way my mom has freckles and her wrinkles makes her so much more beautiful

The way my nephews smiles even with imperfect teeth making my heart hurt of love

If you could see and feel

If you could just stay, just after the storm

You would find me, once the fog died out

A younger me

8 years old longing for a love I can’t find in my house

For a mom who can’t stop working and a dad who just doesn’t give a shit

He use to

I don’t know what happened but something in him stop trying, it turned off like a switch and he forgot to be a father

But I remember

The only time he ever made us breakfast

A bag of grapes and we went to the store and bought a nesquick milk

The way he used to kiss my mom and hold her hand

The time she would dance with us and how when he was drunk we would find the old him again

The one that cared.

How he use to sing to me and tell me he loved me

He would try to hug me and quiet frankly time passed by and I didn’t want the drunk him, I took the old him for granted

I took it all for granted

My head is a complete mess, I know

But I can’t help and think of the amazing things there is to see out in this world

Of where I could be if I just left what I could see

When the storm rolled over into my head and it gets cloudy

When the grass is swaying and the trees are dancing

When the clouds are dark yet beautiful

You’ll see what it’s like to be in my head

On the head of a women who just wants to live

To be more like her sister

To not care as much

But is that really what I want

Im telling you I know, my Mind is a mess

In most cases I can’t even keep my thoughts straight and all I know is that everything hurts and everything is felt Deeply here

When the storm is over and the sun comes out I’m at the beach

Listening to the waves and playing in the sand

Waiting for the next storm, to mess with my crazy head.

[natalievoncatte]

Kara heard a distinctive hollow pop as she approached Lena’s apartment. The doorman had been gracious enough to let her up, informing her that Miss Luthor was expecting her. She knocked on the door and listened intently. The soft clink of a bottle being set on a table and rather gentle passing of Lena’s feet on the hardwood floor. Kara resisted the urge to peer through the door.

When it swung in, she wished she’d had the chance to prepare herself. Lena was visibly distraught, eyes red rimmed from crying and cheeks puffy. She was dressed down in a a sweater and leggings, and couldn’t meet Kara’s gaze with her own.

It hurt. Seeing her like this physically hurt, gouging a dull ache into her chest. Her first instinct was to reach out and scoop the smaller woman into a tight hug, make her safe, to wall her in with her arms. Kara fought it down and sighed.

“You… don’t look so good.”

“Come in,” Lena said, her voice soft and flat. “If you want to hang out with a monster, that is.”

Lena turned and trudged back into the apartment as if she was walking to the gallows. She fell back into the couch and grabbed the wine bottle from the table, long since having abandoned the pretext of glasses.

“You’re not a monster, Lena.”

She stared at the bottle and took a long pull from it, the wine sloshing around the bottom.

“Yeah I am. You ever watch Godzilla movies?”

Kara blinked. “What?”

“Godzilla. Giant radioactive lizard.”

“Of course.”

Lena snorted a bitter laugh. “Monsters are born too large, too strong, too tall. That is their tragedy. Or something like that. Director of the movie said it. That’s me. I’m not trying to hurt anyone, it’s just in my blood. It’s who I am and I’ll never escape it.”

“That’s not true,” Lena said, softly.

She looked around the apartment, shocked to find dishes piled in the sink and two more empty wine bottles lined up on the kitchen island.

Kara quickly moved to the couch. Lena offered no resistance as Kara took the bottle. Lena stared as Kara took a long, glugging pull.

“There. Now you’re not drinking alone.”

Lena smiled weakly. Kara didn’t mind the taste of the wine but as far as getting her drunk, it was like pouring it down the drain. If she could keep Lena from alcohol poisoning, it was worth it. Kara felt a tug in her chest. Lena looked so soft, her big eyes wet with tears.

“I only wanted to help.”

“You did, Lena. You saved the world.”

“Children, Kara. Sick kids, dying because of me.”

“That’s not true, Lena. Edge is cooking the data, you know that. We’re going to clear your name and I’m going to help.”

“I’m so tired, Kara. My own brother tries to murder me once a week because I won’t help him try to take over the world. I keep getting kidnapped by my insane family and aliens and God knows who else and I’m tired. That woman today almost killed me. One of these times there won’t be someone to jump in front of the bullet and it’ll be my time.”

“That won’t happen.”

Lena shook her head, failing to fight back the tears. “I’m so tired of being everyone’s monster.”

“You’re not a monster to me, Lena. You are so good. You work so hard and care so much, and people don’t even know about your work at the children’s hospital, the reading to the kids. You’re a saint.”

Lena looked at her sharply. “How did you know about that?”

Kara thought, FUCK.

She fiddled with her glasses, knowing it was a tell.

“I um, well I am a reporter. I won’t tell anyone, I know you don’t want publicity.”

“Kara, I’m confused. I put a lot of effort into making sure no one knows I do that, so the kids don’t have to deal with the bullshit my life brings. Have you been following me?”

Kara licked her lips.

Just holding back the truth isn’t make it a lie, did it?

“More like keeping tabs, just to… keep you safe. To watch your back.”

Lena looked horrified. Kara’s chest seized and she thought for a moment that she’d gone too far.

“Kara, I don’t want you doing that. If Edge or my brother come after me and you’re in the way, they’ll kill you. You can’t risk that, you don’t deserve it.”

Lena grabbed her hands. “Listen to me, Kara. I have a target on my back. I have a price on my head. Sooner or later my number is going to be up and I’d rather die than have you be the one to catch the bullet. I just want you to be okay.”

“They won’t get you.”

Lena pressed her eyes shut and choked back a sob. “Yeah, they will. I’m living on borrowed time. It’s just a matter of the odds, in the end. Next time James won’t be there to take a bullet for me and Supergirl will be too busy and I’ll just be another monster on obituary page until-“

“Stop it!” Kara barked, shocked at the sharp snap of her own voice. “Stop it. I won’t let them.”

Lena’s eyes snapped open and she stared at Kara, more than a little shocked. Her hands tensed, closing tightly around Kara’s.

“Don’t put that on yourself. I’m not you’re responsibly and I don’t want you risking your life for me. It’s just not worth it.”

“You are worth it,” Kara insisted, shaking her hands a little as she leaned in. “You are, and I won’t accept that you’re not.”

“I love that you believe in me so much.”

Kara’s heart did a backflip. Love? She loved it? Lena was looking at her with such a softness in her eyes, and Kara scolded herself that she was drunk, that she might say things she didn’t intend or didn’t want to slip out.

“But,” Lena said, “you’re just one person, you can’t save me from this.”

Kara’s jaw set as she bit down on this pressure growing inside her, as if something had taken root in her chest and grown and grown inside until it made her ribs creak and her heart ache and it would split her open if she didn’t let it out.

She wasn’t drunk. She was lucid, clearheaded, but Lena was gazing into her soul with tear-filled eyes and she looked so small and vulnerable and resigned, like she was just waiting for her turn at the headsman’s axe.

Kara couldn’t take it. She couldn’t fucking take it, and the words came so easily she scarcely knew how she’d held it in for so long.

“I can protect you, Lena. I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”

Lena’s soft expression twisted into a scowl.

“Bad time for a joke, Kara.”

Tenderly, as gently as she could, Kara guided Lena’s hand to her glasses.

“Go ahead.”

Lena hesitated, chewing her lip, eyes flicking strangely, gaze surveying Kara’s face- looking at her eyes, her scar, and in a way that pulled at Kara’s heart, her lips.

Slowly, carefully, Lena pulled the glasses free, visibly surprised by their weight.

“They’re lined with lead. It helps with sensory overload.”

Lena raised her now shaking hand and her thumb grazed Kara’s ear as she reached back to unclasp the clip holding Kara’s hair, allowing honeyed tresses to spill free across her shoulders and down her back.

“Look at me, Lena.”

Lena looked. Her expression flickered from pained annoyance to shock to something Kara couldn’t quite identify.

“You lied to me,” Lena whispered.

Kara bit back some lame excuse, like I never said I wasn’t Supergirl.

“I did, and I’m sorry. If this means your feelings about me have changed, that’s okay, but I won’t stop protecting you. I won’t let Morgan Edge or your brother or anyone hurt you. Never you.”

Kara’s jaw trembled as she spoke and her heart was racing.

Lena’s was doing the same, beating too fast in her chest. Kara carefully put her hands on Lena’s shoulders.

“Easy,” she said. “I know this is a shock.”

“When you caught me after… when you saved me from Lillian… when you… the helicopter… that was you?”

“Always, Lena. I’ll never let you fall.”

“Kara?” Lena whispered.

She was staring, but rather than meet Kara’s gaze, she was looking lower, eyes fixed on Kara’s lips. Kara’s gut did a backflip at the way Lena was looking at her, mouth slightly parted, flushed, her heart racing.

If Kara was human, she might pick up on those things, or she might not. She might be confused or briefly wonder if Lena was really looking at her the way it seemed she was.

Kara Danvers was not human. She could look up and see particles dancing across the atmosphere in hues for which humans had no names because their eyes were blinded to them. She could hear the rapid beating of Lena’s heart and see the heat blooming on her skin and taste on her tongue the tangy, pleasant musk of the pheromones Lena was emitting, and she could do it all so fast that her mind processed it so quickly that it could barely be measured. When Lena began to lean towards her, she watched it happen in curious slow motion.

When Lena kissed her, it was an explosion of sensation. Not just the soft warmth of her lips but her scent, her real scent breath the perfumes and sharp tang of wine smell, the pure scent of Lena herself. The soft sigh that broke from Lena’s lips was a symphony, and Lena’s hands on Kara’s flanks was like a blast of firecrackers running under her skin to ignite a sudden flare of warmth low in her hips.

Lena was kissing her. Kara was kissing her back, consuming every aspect of the contact in perfect detail, burning it into her solar-powered Kryptonian mind where it would live in perfect detail for the rest of forever.

She gently, oh so gently, pushed Lena back.

“Lena, stop.”

“Oh,” Lena murmured, her face falling. “I didn’t… I’m sorry… I thought… I misread…”

“No, no Lena it’s not that I promise, you’re drunk. You’ve had too much to drink and I can’t let you do anything while you’re like this, I couldn’t take it if you wake up tomorrow and…”

Lena blinked back tears.

“Oh my God. You really are a superhero, aren’t you?”

“I’m just being decent.”

Lena smiled sadly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, you’ve got me, Lena. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Lena actually laughed, a bitter little chuckle that made her look away in embarrassment.

“I can imagine Lex seething if he found out about this.”

“Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena giggled. “Oh my God.”

“What, um, what is this, exactly?” said Kara, her voice cracking with tension. “I mean, you kissed me.”

“I did,” Lena said, guarded. “I’ve wanted to for so long. How does the saying go? In vino, veritas?”

“In wine there is truth,” said Kara.

“Yeah.”

“Lena, we’re going to get through this, I promise, and I will always protect you. Always. Right now I need to protect you from the hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. I’m putting you to bed, and I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to, but I need to know you’re safe, and you can’t get any safer than Supergirl crashing on your couch.”

Lena blurted, “I could have her in my bed.”

Kara thought her soul might leave her body.

“Not when you’ve had this much to drink.”

“God, you are amazing,” Lena sighed.

Kara nodded. “If you say so.”

It took a while for Kara to actually get Lena into her bed. Lena was suddenly taken with an extreme tiredness and Kara let her lean on her as they walked down the hall, fighting the urge singing in her veins, demanding that she pick her up and just carry her.

She may have been Supergirl, but even she had limits.

Once Lena was curled up in blankets and safe, Kara puttered around the apartment, doing the dishes, cleaning a little before she fell back on the expansive sofa to sleep.

When the warm morning sun woke her, she sat up and found Lena staring at her.

“I didn’t dream that. You’re really here.”

Kara rose from the couch and approached her tentatively.

“Yeah. I’m really here. Lena, if you’re angry with me because…”

Lena cut her off, darting forward to plant a soft kiss right on her lips. Kara froze as her brain essentially rebooted.

“Oh,” said Kara.

Lena smiled softly. She still looked bedraggled and had clearly been crying, but the smirk on her lips was everything.

[covenofagatha]

Okay hear me out Agatha x Reader age gap fic. The reader and Agatha have been together for awhile I was thinking like she used to be your college professor before you graduated, The reader has a monthly night out scheduled with friends from school but Agatha like usual declines in your offer to join you all. Agatha just doesn’t have interest in the “young people bars” and hanging out with old students is strange to her, though it’s a little upsetting you don’t push too much before relenting and going on your way. A little bit into the night despite your efforts in avoiding said persons advances you’re being continuously hit on by either a stranger in the bar or a friend from the group that is your choice! But the resolve would be Agatha showing up cause she felt guilty about always declining, her witnessing and then defusing the situation (jealously obviously). I absolutely love possessive Agatha and love everything you’ve written so far! Whether it ends in smut is also completely up to you!!!

Hope you enjoy and thank you for the very detailed request!! This will be a two-parter and the next part will be based on a request I got about jealous reader x Professor Agatha.

A lesson in jealousy (Part 1)

Agatha gets jealous when she finds you at a bar and a guy is already talking to you.

Word count: 2100

Tags: marking, jealousy, making out, slight thigh grinding

“I was thinking of ordering pizza for tonight?” Agatha muses, already looking at you when you turn your head to face her. 

You’re sitting on the couch in her office, nose buried in a book for one of your other classes. Agatha was your professor two years ago and there had been a spark, at least on your end, so you had kept in touch. 

It wasn’t until a year ago when you had bridged the gap between a professional relationship and something more when you had kissed her one night after getting drinks at a bar across town. 

You had immediately pulled back, apologizing incessantly, but much to your surprise, she had dragged you back in for more. 

That night was the first of many that you spent in her bed. 

Although she was no longer your teacher, you still attended the college that she worked at, so there was a bit of a gray area. Meaning, you two had to keep it under wraps. 

“Oh, sorry,” you say, finally answering Agatha’s question. “I’m going out with my friends tonight. It’s our monthly bar trivia thing that we always do. I think I told you.” She hums and you frown. “What?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Seems like we haven’t had a quiet night in awhile, that’s all.” 

“You could always come tonight,” you offer hopefully. Her nose wrinkles and she raises an eyebrow and you know why she’s being like this. “You could just happen to show up and I’ll just happen to see you and I’ll invite you to join our team. It’ll be fun!” 

And yet you know her answer before she even says it. “That’s not really my scene, baby.” You pout and slouch down further into the couch. She has never once taken you up on an invitation, even though you practically beg her every time. She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. It’s an old game for both of you. “Come on, hon, you know I have no interest in going to a bar with a bunch of college kids on a Friday night where everyone will be drinking and making noise and I taught most of your friends. I just think that it will be weird.” 

A flash of anger bubbles up to protect you from the hurt you feel deep down. Would it kill her to do something for you? “I’m also a college kid who will be out drinking and ‘making noise’ and you were my professor two years ago. Is that weird?” 

She sighs heavily and pushes her chair back, patting her thighs. She wants you to come over, but you grit your teeth and don’t give in. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant, obviously. Just spending my Friday evening with a bunch of college kids isn’t what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

You stand up, shoving your books and laptop in your bag and Agatha scoffs and says your name. You meet her eyes, disappointment written all over your face. It kills you to show her how much her rejection hurts, but you’re tired of it. 

“Come here, please,” she says softly. You grumble but obey. You slide off your backpack and sit on her laps, tensely putting your arms around her neck. Despite how mad you are, you still fiddle with her strands on her nape that aren’t in her bun. She leans in to kiss your lips but you don’t let it go any further than a press of her mouth against yours. You won’t give in that easily. 

“You never come,” you whine. 

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know, sweetheart. I just worry it might be risky for us to be seen out in public like that. Why don’t you come over after and we can have a movie night or something? I’ll take you to a bar tomorrow night, I promise. Just the two of us.”

You can see there’s no use trying to fight her on this. No matter what you say, she won’t come with you and you’d rather not have to open up and tell her how you want to just spend a night with the most important people in your life: Agatha and your best friends. You also feel a little insecure about being so young. She is over twice your age and you worry that sometimes you aren’t enough for her, or that she thinks you’re too immature. “Okay,” you say, voice small. 

She squeezes your waist and gives you another peck. “That’s my girl. Don’t come over too late and I’ll make it worth your while.” She winks and you force a smile and climb off her lap. 

“I’ll see you later, Agatha.” 

“Hon, you don’t have to leave right now,” she calls but you’re already walking to the door. You wave a hand as a goodbye and you moodily walk back to your dorm. 

You sulk the rest of the day and debate whether or not you even want to go out to the bar, but ultimately decide that you deserve it. You don’t need Agatha to have a good time, as much as you’d like her. 

“There she is! It’s been awhile!” Natasha exclaims when you get to their table and claps a hand on your back. You wince but pull her in for a hug. You’ve been swamped with homework and when you do have free time, it’s spent with Agatha, so you have barely seen your friends in the past month. 

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy,” you mumble while greeting Wanda and Maria, also at the table. 

“First round is on you for neglecting us!” Wanda says and you laugh and happily go to the bar to order beers for the group. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks when you finally make your way through the crowd. 

“Four Pilsners, please,” you almost have to shout. Someone next to you bumps into you roughly and you jump. 

“Oh shit, sorry.” A guy about your age turns around, with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes. Something about his features is so familiar. 

“You’re good,” you say. “Do I know you?” 

He stares intently at your face, trying to place you. He snaps his fingers. “Professor Harkness’s class, freshman year. Something about witchcraft. I sat in the row in front you. You were like the only one who actually knew what they were talking about. I think you were her favorite by a long shot.” 

You blush at hearing that someone else picked up on Agatha liking you. “I don’t know if I’d say that,” you say coyly, smiling a little at the thought of the older woman. 

“I’m James. So, uh,” the boy says, sliding a hand nonchalantly around your waist. You freeze. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone at a bar?” 

“I’m not alone,” you quickly say, stepping back so his hand falls off, and you point to the table with your friends. “We’re here for trivia night.” 

His face lights up and he motions toward a different table with a group of guys. “We are too, but they all suck. Can I join your team?” 

“Um-” You’re trying to figure out how to let him down gently when the bartender puts down the four beers in front of you. You reach for your wallet but James slaps a $20 on the counter. 

“I got it,” he says proudly and then before you can protest, he grabs two of the beers and you follow with the other drinks, dumbfounded, as he walks over to your table. Your friends give you quizzical looks but you just shrug tiredly. You can’t find it in yourself to care that much right now. 

The host of the trivia game comes around to each table and hands out the paper for answers and a pen. He asks the first question: when is Taylor Swift’s birthday. 

You immediately say the answer and James pats his hand on your shoulder but it turns into more of a rub. Your eyes widen and your friends bite back a smile. 

“I’m actually seeing someone,” you say and take his hand off of you. Your friends look even more surprised than he does. Even though you’ve been dating Agatha for close to a year now, you’ve been really secretive and change the topic whenever your love life comes up with them. 

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” he says, raising his arms like he’s trying to show you that he’s harmless. He moves to touch you again but a hand darts out and grabs his wrist. You turn and your jaw falls open. 

It’s Agatha, and she is positively fuming. 

“I think she said she’s taken,” she growls and James backs off. 

“Professor Harkness,” he stutters. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, we were just having a good time.” He turns to you, eyes pleading. It’s almost funny how scary he still finds the older woman. “Tell her, we were just talking.” 

You wish he had said anything but that. Agatha whirls onto you. “Were you?” She hisses and you gulp. She scoffs as you protest and storms out of the bar. 

Ignoring the looks from your friends, you chase after her down the alleyway. 

“Agatha, wait,” you yell. “He kept hitting on me and I was trying to let him down gently but he kept trying. I told him that I was with someone else! I’m sorry.” 

She spins on her heel and advances toward you. You stop like a deer in headlights and she shoves you against the brick wall before you can think. Her hands grab your wrists and pin them to the wall. You struggle futilely. 

“Is this your pathetic attempt of getting back at me?” You furrow your brows in confusion and she laughs sardonically. “I was feeling so guilty earlier. You looked so sad when I didn’t want to come and I thought that maybe I could try, for you. I always say no and what a nice surprise it would be for my girlfriend if I showed up. And then what do I find? My pet is flirting with someone else. Not just someone, a sleazy college boy who would probably cum after two pumps because he’s so incompetent.” She’s snarling, her face an inch away from yours, and you hate how turned on you are. 

You’ve always liked it when she got possessive over you. 

“I didn’t want him,” you say levelly. “I only want you.” 

She huffs like it’s a joke. “Sure you don’t want the college fuckboy? Or any of the other people in the bar? They’d never hesitate to join you for trivia night.” 

And then it hits you. She’s jealous because she’s insecure. She also worries about the age difference. 

Your heart swells and you break free of her grasp to grab her cheeks and pull her in for a long and filthy kiss. You moan into her mouth when her tongue swipes against yours and she fits a thigh between your legs. 

“I’m all yours, Agatha,” you groan when she tugs your bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes flash. 

“You better be,” she warns and entangles her fingers in your hair so she can tilt your head to the side and sink a bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your hips buck on her thigh and you gasp when she sucks roughly. She trails up your neck, doing the same thing over and over, and you’re quickly reduced to a moaning, desperate mess. 

Her other hand trails down to hold onto your hip, just feeling you shakily grind against her, trying to get some relief. 

“Should I go back inside and get James to come out and watch this?” She asks against your skin, still marking you up. “So he knows what happens when he touches things that aren’t his?” 

You inhale sharply at the thought and wish that she would just drag you back inside and fuck you right there on the table in front of everyone. 

“Please,” you beg. She actually giggles and pulls back to admire her handiwork on your neck. She lightly traces over the marks and you shiver under her touch and intense gaze. 

Agatha smirks when she meets your eyes again. “That should let everyone know who you belong to. And you, in case you need the reminder.” 

You pretend to think for a moment. “Maybe I could use a refresher. Why don’t you show me who owns me?” 

Her eyes darken even more as she pulls you back in for a searing kiss that she ends too quickly. 

She yanks her thigh from out between yours and grabs your hand, dragging you to the car. 

“Oh, I’m going to, baby.”

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

HI WE'RE BACK - i'm having so much fun writing this. thank you for liking it and your encouragement.

word count: 2.1k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content, heartache, feelings of betrayal includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: the consequences hit hard

PART FIVE previous part - next part

The tension thickens, pressing down on your chest as Max’s words settle in the air between you. You glance at Lando, hoping he has some magic explanation, some way to fix this, but his jaw is set, his eyes locked on Max. His usual easy charm is nowhere to be found, and for the first time tonight, he looks genuinely shaken. Max crosses his arms, his sharp gaze moving between the two of you. "Well?" he presses, his voice growing louder. "Someone better start talking."

You take a shaky breath, your hands twisting together at your sides. “Max, it’s not like that,” you manage, though your voice wavers under the weight of his stare. “We weren’t sneaking around. I mean, not intentionally. It’s just…” You trail off, your words getting stuck in your throat. “Not intentionally?” Max repeats, his tone dripping with disbelief. “So what? It just accidentally happened?”

Lando steps in then, his voice calm but firm. “We didn’t plan this, Max. I swear. But… yeah, there’s something between us.” He glances at you, his expression softening before he looks back at Max. “It wasn’t something we wanted to hide from you. We just—”

“Wanted to keep it quiet until it suited you?” Max interrupts, his voice rising. “Do you even understand what this looks like? You, my best friend, going behind my back with my sister? And you—” He turns to you, his eyes filled with something between anger and betrayal. “You didn’t think to tell me? Not once?” You flinch at the accusation, guilt curling in your stomach. “I didn’t know how,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, congratulations,” Max snaps, throwing his hands in the air. “Mission failed.”

The words hit like a slap, and you blink back the sting of tears. Max has never spoken to you like this, never looked at you like this—like he doesn’t even recognize you. The hurt in his eyes is worse than the anger, and it makes your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared for. “Max,” Lando says again, his tone softer now. “You’re my best mate. I never wanted to hurt you either. But…” He hesitates, like he’s searching for the right words. “I care about her. A lot. And if you can’t see that—”

“That’s the problem,” Max cuts in, his voice raw. “I do see it. I saw it tonight, clear as day. And maybe even before that, but I ignored it because I trusted you, Lando. I trusted both of you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you hold them back, refusing to break under the pressure of Max’s gaze. “I need some time,” Max finally says, his voice quieter now, but no less resolute. “To think. To figure out how I feel about all of this.” He takes a step back toward the door, pausing to look at Lando. “Don’t follow me. Either of you.” And with that, he turns and walks back inside, leaving you and Lando alone on the balcony once more. The sound of the party swells as the door shuts behind him, a stark contrast to the silence that settles between you.

Lando exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Well,” he mutters, “that went about as badly as it could’ve.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

He steps closer then, his hand brushing yours in a gesture that feels both apologetic and grounding. “We’ll fix this,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a determination that makes your chest tighten. “I don’t know how yet, but we’ll fix it.” You nod, though you’re not sure that you believe him. The night feels heavier now, the spark of earlier completely snuffed out. But when Lando’s fingers lace with yours, you let yourself hold onto him—just for a moment—because even in the mess you’ve made, he’s the only thing that feels steady.

You pull your hand from his stepping back until the cool metal of the balcony railing presses against your spine. Lando’s brows knit together, confusion flashing across his face. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice careful, like he’s afraid you might shatter. But you already feel like you’re breaking. Your breath comes too fast, and your chest tightens as all the emotions swirling inside you—guilt, fear, frustration—bubble to the surface. “I can’t do this,” you whisper, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “What do you mean?” His voice is steadier now, but you can see the cracks in his confident mask. He takes a step forward, and you immediately hold up a hand to stop him.

“I mean this.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “Us. Whatever this is. I can’t, Lando. I thought I could, but I can’t.” He stares at you, his jaw tightening. “Baby, don’t do this,” he says, his tone low but urgent, almost pleading. “I’m serious, Lando,” you say, hating the way your voice wavers. “Max hates me now. He hates you. And he has every right to. We were selfish, and we’ve ruined everything.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Lando says firmly, his hands falling to his sides. “He’s just upset. He needs time to process this, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” you say, your throat tightening, “but I can’t keep doing this with you, sneaking around, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. It’s too much, Lando. I can’t handle it.” The hurt in his eyes is like a punch to the stomach, and you have to look away, focusing instead on the city lights below. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of traffic and the muffled music from inside the apartment. “You’re scared,” he says finally, his voice quieter now.

You laugh bitterly, though there’s no humor in it. “Of course I’m scared. I’m terrified, Lando. I’m terrified of hurting Max even more, of ruining what we had—what you and Max have. And I’m terrified of…” You trail off, biting your lip hard enough to hurt.

“Of what?” he presses gently, stepping closer despite your earlier protest. His voice is softer now, like he’s trying to coax the truth out of you.

“Of you,” you whisper, the words barely audible. “Of how much I feel when I’m with you. Of how I can’t seem to think straight when you’re around. It’s too much, Lando. You’re too much.” He doesn’t respond immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, heavy and suffocating. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an edge of vulnerability that makes your chest ache.

“I’m not going to apologize for how I feel about you,” he says. “And I’m not going to let you push me away just because you’re scared.”

“Lando—”

“No, let me finish,” he says, his tone firmer now. “I get it. You’re overwhelmed. So am I. But this? What we have? It’s real. And I’m not going to let you throw it away because you’re too afraid to fight for it.” His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but deep down, you know he’s not. Still, the fear is stronger. It wraps around you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs. “I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling. “I need to figure things out on my own.”

His face falls, and the sight nearly breaks you. But he nods, his jaw tight. “If that’s what you want,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It is,” you say, though the words feel like a lie.

He steps back, his hands sliding into his pockets. For a moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Then he nods again, turns, and walks back inside without another word. You stay on the balcony, the cool night air doing nothing to ease the heat burning in your chest. And as the door clicks shut behind him, you realize just how much it hurts to push him away.

The second Lando steps away, a hollowness seeps into your chest, spreading fast and heavy like a lead weight. The cool night air brushes against your skin, but instead of soothing you, it amplifies the ache inside, making every breath sharp and uneven. You tell yourself this is for the best, that pushing him away was the right thing to do—for Max, for Lando, for yourself—but the words ring hollow.

Guilt churns in your stomach, twisting like a knife. Max’s face, the flash of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, replays in your mind like a haunting reel, over and over again. And then there’s Lando. The look he gave you before he turned away—raw, unguarded—feels like a scar you’ll carry for a long time. You hate that you put it there.

Your hands tremble as you grip the railing, the cold metal biting into your palms. Everything feels too much, too fast. You were supposed to keep things simple. One night. One moment. A slip you could explain away and move on from. But it’s become so much more, hasn’t it? And now, it’s spiraled into a mess you can’t seem to untangle.

The lump in your throat grows heavier, and your vision blurs as tears pool in your eyes. You don’t know if you’re angry, sad, or just exhausted—maybe all three. Angry at yourself for letting this happen, sad for the way things are unraveling, and exhausted from pretending you don’t care as much as you do.

And you do care. That’s the worst part. You care so much it’s terrifying. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment with Lando has carved its way into you, leaving marks you don’t know how to erase. And the thought of losing him—really losing him—hurts more than you want to admit.

But the fear is louder. Fear of what this could mean for Max, for your family, for your heart. Fear of stepping into something that feels so big, so overwhelming, it might swallow you whole.

So you stay rooted there, staring out at the city lights, wishing they could somehow illuminate the answers you so desperately need. But all they do is flicker and blur, leaving you just as lost as before.

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

The buzz of Silverstone is electric, a sea of orange and British flags waving wildly as engines roar to life. The atmosphere is alive, but you feel out of sync, moving through the paddock like a ghost. Max is there, but his smiles are subdued when it comes to you. He’s cheering forLando, though, still proud and supporting his best friend for his home race. Still, his excitement feels muted, his celebratory backslaps and grins somehow...limited and different. It’s like he’s drawing a line, one you’re not sure how to cross.

Lando keeps his distance too. You catch glimpses of him—a flash of his curls beneath his cap, the familiar set of his jaw as he talks to his engineers—but he never looks your way. You tell yourself it’s for the best, but it doesn’t stop the ache every time he passes.

When the race begins, you stand in the far back of his garage, heart pounding as Lando’s car tears through the track. Every overtake, every perfect turn has you holding your breath. You try not to think about the way things used to be—the way you’d celebrate together, no hesitation, no lines drawn in the sand. But you can’t help it. Because even with everything between you now, you’re still there, willing him to succeed.

When he crosses the finish line in P3, with Lewis winning the race, the roar of the crowd is deafening. You clap and cheer with the rest of them, smiling despite yourself as Lando lifts his trophy. Max is by your side in the crowd, grinning from ear to ear, but even his elation feels careful, like there’s something unsaid hanging between all of you.

Lando doesn’t look for you when he steps down from the podium. He’s swarmed by cameras and teammates, orange confetti raining down, but he doesn’t scan the crowd like he used to. And you? You stay on the sidelines, your pride for him tangled up in all the things you’re too scared to face.

tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop @weekendlusting @chezmardybum @isotopemylove @luvvcharxo

[galacticghoste]

THANK YOU

Just let people complain its not like their opinions are gonna change anythings what's done is done it's not changing so just let me complain on what they could have done

Me rambling

AS MUCH AS I LOVE each episode on their own

bunce of ships becoming Canon!!!

And the art was gorgeous through out the whole series and the music chefs kiss to both

But seriously I don't get what people's deal is with someone not likeing the ended of a show like if you love it good on you bro that your opinion

For me NOPE it's not bad I can deal with cliffhangers that's not the issue here

(I KNOW NOT EVERYTHING GONNA BE PERFECT)

But seriously though for me personally it's didn't hit.

There's SO MUCH potential wasted and so many characters died but we don't get enough time to fully process their loss bc nope time limit

Me and my friend went on for like an hour on what could have gone differently

(I know they have a limit on money and time)

This obviously needs more episodes to actually fully tell the story

LIKE ISHA KINDA DIED FOR NOTHING what was the point of the beautifully painful scene of her sacrificing herself only for Vander to be revived once again WTF?!?

We don't even see what happened after that because we only learn it by characters say what happened after we don't even know what they did with her body we only know Jinx got REALLY depressed

It felt like we could have had a episode dedicated to vector more focusing on him and Jayce and how he tried to change that fate so many times kinda like homora from madoka magica did

Also what was that homeless guy Vi finds name anyways i don't remember it and we GOT NOTHING ON HIS BACKSTORY I really thought we would get an episode on that since he seemed important

SAME WITH ISHA I DONT KNOW WHY SHE WAS BEING CHASED OR WHAT HAPPEND TO HER FAMILY we don't get anything on that either

She kinda in a way existed just for Jinx to get better just to get hurt again by her lose

I think since multiple storys were happening at once it was struggle to find a way to fully close it correctly so what better way then killing off most the characters

Also

WTF happend to HEIMERDINGER??? Like is he dead? Bc he just poof and dissappear not even fluff was left behind

by the way. people are allowed to complain about this season feeling rushed. i don’t know when it became a thing in this fandom to completely jump people who have valid complaints like YES arcane is a fantastically produced and beautifully animated show and nobody will be able to top it but they did start things with some characters only for it to never go anywhere so it can all be wrapped up in three episodes 😭

[ivonhart]

haircut | sevika x fem!reader

— one shot

masterlist

cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @terrapia

inspo credit: @roastedoatmilk

summary: You wake to Sevika struggling to maintain her hair and offer to cut it.

a/n: This was so self indulgent - I just love Sevika so much and wanted more fluff out there with her

You were gently stirred awake at the soft cursing that left the mouth of your girlfriend. What little light that could breach Zaun’s smoggy atmosphere trickled in from the torn blinds hanging from your bedroom window and illuminated her…as well as the smoke that surrounded her from the cigarette hanging from her lips.

Despite the sleep that clouded your vision you could see that she was hunched over at your desk in front of your vanity mirror. You watched as she gathered her shoulder length hair and attempted to tie it up before the hairband slipped from her fingers, causing her to curse once more. She was stressed…even in your sleepy state the fact she was smoking so early told you as such.

Ever since the death of Silco, neither you nor her have been able to scrape up enough money to get a replacement arm for her, leaving her back with one arm. Something she wasn’t used to after so long with a mechanical one. Each day you could see her get more and more frustrated at the Zaun and what it’s becoming.

Silco’s death had sent Zaun into a whirlwind of chaos and Sevika had to follow behind cleaning up whatever she could by herself. Slowly, you sat up, resulting in the thin blanket to fall from your bare chest, exposing your skin to the chill air that filled the room. With a yawn and a stretch you stood from the bed and made your way over to her. You didn’t bother to put a shirt on as you did. “My love…you should’ve woke me.”

Your soft voice visibly relaxed her tense shoulders as you ran your hands across the back of her neck before wrapping around it. The warmth from your bare chest heated up her backside while you rested your chin on her forehead. A heavy sigh left her mouth as she looked away from the mirror after you pulled the cigarette from her lips and brought it to yours.

“I should be able to tie my own fucking hair up.” Her tone was harsh but you knew it was only because she was hurting. She didn’t say it much but his death left a wound in her heart you don’t think would ever heal. And with everything else happening you knew she would burn out sooner or later. No matter how hard she tried to hide it from you…you knew.

With one last drag you put the cigarette out and climbed onto Sevika’s lap, she didn’t fight it - she never did, and silently cupped her scarred cheek and parted her mouth to allow the smoke you held in your lungs to travel to hers. Another heavy sigh forced the smoke from her mouth as she dropped her head against yours.

Her hand held your hip as you stroked her cheek. “You don’t have to keep doing everything alone.” You began to say while you closed your eyes. “Let me carry some of the burden.” Your words caressed the woman’s mouth as you whispered them. Sevika’s hand wandered up your body, mapping out every bump and scar that littered your skin as if she was afraid you would disappear from her very hands. “Everything went to shit after Sil…” The woman choked back the name of the man she admired so much.

While she spoke you softly rubbed your nose against hers. “I just don’t know what to do.” Her hand had traveled under your chest and around your ribs before moving up your spin to cup the back of your head. Knowing what it was she wanted, you pushed your head into her neck and wrapped your arms around her shoulders.

The embrace seemed to halt time. All that was and would ever be was the two of you. Sevika felt a burn behind her eyes as she gazed at the ceiling. She didn’t know why she felt such emotion. Perhaps Silco’s death was finally hitting her, or the exhaustion was catching up to her. Or maybe it was the pure and unforgiving love she held for you.

“Maybe I could cut it for you?” The question snapped her out of her thoughts and she quickly blinked any tears away. You pulled away and smiled softly. “I’ve always thought you’d look good with an undercut and besides, it would be one less thing for you to worry about.” Any tension Sevika once held was washed away as she cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Oh…really?” Your soft smile grew wide as you nodded before you pushed her hair out of her face and tucked the strains behind her ears. Showcasing the large eyes you fell so hard for. “So?” You asked while mimicking her facial expression.

-

“You're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The words escaped your mouth before you even realized as you looked at the final product. After putting a shirt on and getting everything set up, it had taken about an hour until you finished cutting her hair.

Sevika felt heat bloom under her cheeks at your words, causing her to clear her throat. Despite dating for a few years, sudden words such as that threw the fighter off. Sometimes she’d think she had made you up. “Alright, let me see, woman.”

A soft laugh escaped your mouth at the name, knowing she only called you that when you made her flustered. When you handed a small handheld mirror to Sevika you watched with bated breath as she took in your handiwork. You were, in no way, a hair dresser so you were worried how she’d react. “D-Do you like it?”

In the blink of an eye you were suddenly in Sevika’s lap again with her lips against yours. She swallowed your gasp before you slowly kissed her back with a large smile. When you pulled away you spoke. “So was that a yes?” Your breath ghosted over her lips as she bore her gaze into yours. “Marry me.”

You pulled back to look at her face fully as a beat of silence filled the air. The sudden words you’ve been longing to hear from her threw you for a loop, causing you to stare blankly at her. Sevika’s eyes shifted between yours with nervous energy as she slightly shifted you in her lap.

“What?” You whispered as tears began to fill your eyes. The brute that you softened cleared her throat before repeating it. “Marry me.” All of a sudden, Sevika’s center of gravity was thrown off as you launched your arms around her shoulders once again, causing the two of you to tumble to the ground. “YES!” You screamed with a loud laugh. Sevika couldn’t help the chuckles that left her lips as you covered her face with pecks while the tears fell across her skin.

“What in Janna’s name is happening here? When did Sevika cut her hair?” Jinx’s questions were barely heard of the sounds of joy that left the two of you. When you finally registered her presence you stumbled to your feet with a wide smile, noting Isha standing next to her with matching blue hair. Seemed Sevika wasn’t the only one who changed hairstyles.

“SEVIKA ASKED ME TO MARRY HER!” Another beat of silence followed before Jinx broke out in a loud cheer while Isha followed along with loud claps. Sevika made her way off the floor and to the bed as she watched you, Jinx, and Isha jump around in a circle with interlocked hands while cheering. Jinx saying ‘Took Lefty long enough’ over and over again as the three of you did. The warmth she always felt around you burned even brighter, knowing she’d be with you till the end.

[endereies]

BURNT SKIN - CS

No Nut November - Day 27

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You spend ages hiding your intimacy issues from Chris but he gets you to open up

“I don’t need your pity, Chris.” You’d pushed him back moments earlier, the sudden flip of emotions making him confused.

“Is that what you think this is? Why do you push me away every single time like this!” nothing but silence left you, your chest rising and falling erratically while the grip on your wrist tightened. You were so close this time.

“Well? Why is it that any time I think I’ve finally gotten close to you, to loving you, I get pushed back. Why do you give me this- this false hope that me and you are good.” He didn’t seem angry or disappointed, just… frustrated. You understood why, he’d been patient for months so of course he was wearing thin.

“Do you trust me…?” desperation filled you, desperation to get him to understand you. Just anything to coat the air, blunt the sharpness of the hurt in your heart.

“Of course, I –“

“Then why do you act like my touch burns through your skin!” you couldn’t crack your fingers anymore, the breaths being deeper but there was no air. All of your fingers mangled around each other, scratching the sides of your skin where you’d neglected their length. He couldn’t understand like you did.

You were gripping the same skin he touched, soothing it from the unfamiliarity. It wasn’t your own body touching yourself, the unknown territory was eating you up. For months you noticed the lingering touches Chris would give you, a nudge on your arm at a funny joke or a palm on the small of your back as he passed through. It all felt the same. Easily ignorable and bearable. When it was just you two alone you were suddenly conscious of everything you did. Breathing became irregular and you suddenly didn’t have enough saliva to swallow.

He didn’t know why and neither did you at first. Over time it all started to click together a little more. Things on your body were pointed out to yourself. Your stomach, your jawline, your thighs. Your imperfections. If Chris saw them, what would he think of you. Would he be as disgusted as you are in yourself.

“You’d hate it.” Your words were shallow and mumbled under tight lips. Your eyes twitched, the line of tears shaking where you stood. “I don’t have the body of a lover. It’s not something I love.”

“What…?”

“You’d hate it.” A pause stood between you; a choked sob barely held back. “I- I hate the way I look; the way my body isn’t the way I want it. I’ve tried so much shit and I feel shitty. So, I don’t let people near me, because my biggest fear- is that one day, you’ll see me the way I see myself.”

“Is that… why you’ve pushed me away, because you’re scared, I’ll just leave. Have I ever given you a reason to feel like that?” You ponder for a moment, staring into his eyes for honesty.

“I tell you that you are beautiful whenever I get the chance because its true. I honestly admire your beauty so much. I see you cooking and I just lean against the frame watching you because it reminds me so much of those stupid films you watch. I watch you communicate with strangers, especially that barista at the café all because you liked her glasses. I’m telling people about your little habits because they are adorable to me. Your beauty isn’t in your body, its in you. And i love you.”

Tears silently fell as he talked, his legs bringing him closer once again. His hand so desperately wanted to reach out, hold and comfort you. If you’d let it happen.

You didn’t care in that moment, but maybe you would tomorrow. Right now? Pulling him into your arms felt right.

Progress was progress.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[bg3daydream]

Breakfast (Lucanis x Rook fanfiction)

Lucanis x Female Rook one-shot.

Summary: Lucanis makes breakfast for Rook after they spend the nigth together once she's back from the Fade-prison, relieved to have her back but still worried about her. Short (2285 words) and sweet.

Lucanis woke up feeling rested for the first time in…he didn’t even know how long. That he'd been sleeping in Rook’s arms sure was the reason for it.

They were scrunched together on the couch in Rook’s room, with barely room to move, but for Lucanis it was perfect, with his head pillowed on Rook’s chest and her arms around him. Even Spite seemed to have calmed down, he hadn’t annoyed him once. His only regret was not having slept like that before that night, the distance he’d made himself keep for reasons that seemed important once but not anymore.

He was all too aware of how close he’d been to losing Rook. Since she’d been trapped in the Fade, Lucanis had been consumed not only by fear but also by guilt and regret. He’d let it happen, he hadn’t been quick enough, smart enough, and Rook had been taken from him. She had needed him and he had failed again.

He’d been searching non-stop for a way to get her back, even Spite had been agitated, driving him crazy, and he knew he had to be grateful for the team that they’d found a way to get Rook back.

After that, he’d known there was no way he’d let his fears and insecurities keep him from being truly Rook’s any longer. He’d kill the gods, the blight itself, anything that threatened Rook’s again, no matter what, he wouldn't fail her again, and he wouldn’t deny himself the comfort of her arms any longer.

Mindful not to wake her, Lucanis pulled back from Rook’s chest. She was still fast asleep, and Lucanis wondered if she’d slept at all those weeks she’d been trapped in the Fade, if she’d even needed it. 

She didn’t seem more tired than usual, neither did she seem hurt, but Rook hadn’t really elaborated on what had happened to her, and Lucanis hadn’t pushed her to tell him. She seemed more worried about what’d been happening while she was gone and how to fix it, and Lucanis knew it was important, but he wished Rook looked out for herself more. If she didn’t, then he’d be the one to watch over her and care for her.

Lucanis brushed his knuckles ever so softly over Rook’s cheek. He didn’t feel there was much he could offer her, besides his knives and his skills as an assassin, in which he felt he’d been failing abysmally.

It seemed Rook was going to sleep longer, and so, Lucanis decided to get up and get her breakfast. Feeding her was, at least, one thing he could do for Rook without failing her.

He carefully covered Rook with a blanket, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and got dressed quickly.

Walking out of the room and down the stairs, Lucanis found Emmrich already awake, sitting down on the armchair next to the coffee table, doing research, with a cup of steaming tea in front of him, while Manfred hovered near. Emmrich looked up from his papers to give Lucanis a tired smile.

“Good morning. How is she?” He asked as he glanced upstairs.

Lucanis sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Not bad I think, but she hasn’t told me much of what happened to her. She wants to focus on what we have to do now.”

“Understandable so,” Emmrich conceded. “I know everything we lost, everyone…and everything we have to fight now. But we got Rook back, enjoy that.”

“I plan to. Thank you, Emmrich.” Lucanis was aware of how, without the Fade expertise of Emmrich, he probably couldn’t have gotten Rock back to him.

Emmrich nodded graciously and went back to his papers.

“Manfred,” Lucanis addressed the skeleton, who hissed a yes. “If you see Rook getting up, you come running to find me before she can”

“Yes!”

Once in the kitchen, Lucanis tried to decide on what to do for breakfast. He didn’t want it to be something overly complicated or that would take too long, afraid that Rook might wake up before he was finished and find herself alone.

Finally, he settled for orlesian pancakes. 

The kitchen felt cold and abandoned. Lucanis had been in no mood for cooking during the last couple of weeks, his mind was desperately looking for ways to bring Rook back, when he was not mourning their potential loss and blaming himself, and having to deal with Spite’s own commentary and franticness.

Trying to ignore the nagging thoughts of their missing friends, everything that had gone wrong and could get worse soon, and the still lingering fear of losing Rook, Lucanis focused on making breakfast and on the thought of a sleeping Rook, back to him.

He cooked swiftly, and once everything was ready, he placed several servings on a trail and walked out of the kitchen and back to the main building.

Emmrich was still in the armchair, studying the papers, while Manfred stood as a lookout on the staircase, watching the door of Rook’s room. When he saw Lucanis, he hissed and did a thumb-up, and Lucanis couldn’t help his smile.

“Thank you, Manfred,” Lucanis said while placing a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes on the table in front of Emmrich.

“Oh, thank you Lucanis,” Emmrich smiled at him over his papers. “This was most kind.”

Lucanis shrugged and made his way back to Rook’s room. She was still asleep. Lucanis placed the tray with the pancakes and coffee on the table and  knelt down next to the couch, looking at Rook. He reached to trail his fingers down her cheek, ever so softly.

“Doesn’t. Wake,” Spite said, unhelpful.

“She needs rest,” Lucanis muttered, trying not to let Spite’s agitation get to him.

“She. Is not. Waking up,” Spite insisted.

Lucanis never thought the demon could care for anyone, but there they were. Still, he didn’t need Spite putting more fears inside his mind and going frantic again, it wouldn’t help anyone.

“Rook’s tired, she’ll wake up when she’s rested enough,” he tried again, although Lucanis wasn’t very sure if he was convincing himself or the demon. “Go play with Manfred.”

“Pff.” Spite brisked. “He. Thinks. He Is. A mage. Now,” the demon pretty much ranted. “He. Thinks. He. Is. Better.”

“I doubt it,” Lucanis answered, but truly, what did he know…he just hoped Manfred didn’t decide to try and teach Spite magic now. “Go with Manfred or shut it and let Rook sleep.”

Spite didn’t say anything else, but Lucanis could feel his unhappiness.

He watched Rook’s face, caressing her cheek ever so gently again, trying not to entertain Spite’s thoughts of her not waking. There was no reason for that, she was just tired, even if she was in the Fade in her sleep, she was not trapped there any longer, it was just normal dreaming…right?

Lucanis’ heart had begun beating faster, Spite’s unease was growing too, and so he tried to stop that train of thought. Rook was back, she was alright, she was just resting…but if she didn’t wake up by herself soon, he’d wake her. 

Moving even closer, Lucanis leaned over Rook, still kneeling on the floor, until he could rest his head over her chest. He closed his eyes, listening to her heartbeat, feeling her chest rising and falling as she breathed, and he tried not to let worry and overthinking take hold of his mind.

Eventually, Lucanis felt the change in her breathing as she began to wake up, and relief washed over him. He pushed back to look at her as Rook’s eyes opened, and she gave him a drowsy smile that made something in his stomach flutter and twirl. She was there, she was awake, she was fine…and she was smiling at him, her sleep-lidded eyes looking at him so lovingly that it was hard to believe she was looking at him.

“Hey….” Rook reached to cup his face and Lucanis leaned into her touch. Her smile turned into a frown when she noticed he was on the floor. “Did I kick you off the couch? Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, you didn’t,” Lucanis rushed to explain. “I was up already. I made you breakfast.”

There it was again, that soft smile and that love in her eyes, making Lucanis’ heart skip a beat. “Of course you did.” 

Rook’s voice was quiet, content, while her hand cupping his face caressed his cheek, and Lucanis turned his head to kiss her palm. Rook’s smile grew wider at that and she leaned to press a soft kiss to his lips. It was gentle, chaste, yet it made Lucanis feel like he might melt. 

Rook pulled back, reaching to take her shirt that somehow had ended up hanging from the back of the couch, and she put it on. Then, she reached as if to take her cup of coffee, but Lucanis was already handing it to her.

“Thanks,” she smiled again and reached to take his hand. “Come here.”

Lookanis got up from the floor and sat down on the couch next to Rook. Ignoring his own cup of coffee, he looked at her as she contently sipped hers while she looked at the fishes swimming in that odd aquarium. Lucanis had felt uneasy about that part of Rook’s room before, it reminded him of the Ossuary, but it didn’t anymore, not with Rook there next to him.

Rook caught him staring at her and gave him a small smile, leaning to kiss the side of his head. “I’m fine,” she reassured him. 

Lucanis wasn’t sure if it was true, but he didn’t want to push her. She’d be fine, though, he’d make sure of it.

Rook leaned to place the cup back on the tray and cut a piece of the pancakes, bringing it to her mouth. She closed her eyes with a delighted hum and Lucanis felt something in his belly stir at it.

“This is so good,” she said as she took another bite.

“I’m glad.” Lucanis was pretty confident in his cooking skills, more than in his assassin skills right now, but it was nice to have confirmation that Rook was enjoying her breakfast.

Rook looked at him over her shoulder. “Did you have something besides coffee?” she didn’t let him answer. “Of course you didn’t.”

She cut the rest of the pancakes in small, bite-size pieces, and leaned back on the sofa again, taking plate and fork with her. “Here.” She reached the fork with one of the pancake pieces towards Lucanis.

“It’s your breakfast.”

“It’s enough for us both and more…come on,” Rook insisted and Lucanis gave in, taking the bite that she was offering.

Lucanis wondered if it should have felt ridiculous, letting someone feed him pancakes, but it didn’t, he just felt content, loved even. He wondered when was the last time he’d felt like that, or if he’d even felt like that at all before.

He let Rook feed him another couple of bites before nudging her and reminding her to eat herself, and so she dug into the pancakes with appetite. “Seriously, Lucanis, these are so good,” she said between bites and he couldn’t stop how pleased it made him feel.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been hungry, maybe even starving. How hadn’t he thought of feeding her sooner, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep last night without making sure she was fed, no matter how warm and comfortable her arms had felt.

“Did you eat anything while you were…away?” Lucanis found himself asking.

He wasn’t sure how the Fade worked, how she could have survived those weeks without eating anything, if maybe she didn’t need it while in the Fade…

Rook shook her head and leaned over to place the plate of pancakes, with barely anything left, on the table, taking the cup of coffee instead and leaning back on the couch again with a sigh.

“I know it was weeks for you here but…for me…I don’t know,” she trailed off. “I don’t know how it works, but it felt…I don’t even know…eternal but static at the same time…” Rook shuddered and Lucanis leaned to place an arm around her, regretting to have asked. “I don’t want to think about it now.”

“Of course,” he whispered, pulling her close.

His wings popped out without him meaning to, wrapping around them. Lucanis’d be embarrassed about his lack of control of the wings sometimes, if it weren’t because Rook seemed to like them. He had to wonder if Taash was right when they told him he should get out the wings when he was with Rook, that she’d like it.

“Good morning, Spite,” Rook said, smiling.

“Rook,” the demon greeted, but Lucanis was thankful he didn’t try to control him, seeming content just being acknowledged.

Rook took another sip of the coffee and then offered the cup to Lucanis. He was about to refuse, that was her coffee, he had a cup for himself, but she was looking at him with that soft smile, those caring, loving eyes, in a way that made him feel as if his heart was growing in size, and he couldn’t refuse her, taking a sip of the coffee before giving her the cup back.

Rook leaned against him with a content sigh and Lucanis kissed the side of her head. 

There were gods to kill, people to help, a world to save, friends to avenge, they had to get at it soon but perhaps, perhaps it all could wait just a bit longer.

Perhaps they could stay like that, Lucanis’ arm and wings enveloping Rook, basking in each other, for a little bit, if only until they finished their coffee.

*

NA:

Both me and my Rook have fallen in love with this gentle, caring assassin and we want to hold him and protect him, but sometimes Rook needs to be taken care of too.

I think I want to write more for them.

If you liked the fic, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[bigbigpushes]

Surprise!

A one night with an absolutely stunning stranger named Nick nine months before had lead Maddie to this moment. She had gone out for some drinks and spent the night with a man she had met at the bar. They had both decided it would be a one time thing and after parting ways the next morning, she really had believed that that would be that. A few weeks later she had been faced with a positive pregnancy test and no way to contact the father.

She was now thirty seven weeks pregnant and checking herself into the maternity ward, Maddie had woken early that morning to contractions and her waters broken. She was taken into a room and allowed to settle in. She was holding her belly and rocking her hips through a contraction when the doctor and a nurse walked in. “Maddie?” She looked up, eyes widening in recognition, it was just her luck that the nurse about to help her through labour and delivery also happened to be the stunning stranger from that very night.

“I had no way to contact you. We never exchanged numbers. Or last names.” Maddie managed to say softly, the pain now passed. She sat herself down on the bed, taking a much needed moment to catch her breath. “Wilson. My last name is Wilson.” It was a shock to him to say the least, it wasn’t everyday your patient was someone you had slept with. “So it’s mine?” She simply nodded, biting her lip. She had been nervous enough about giving birth, to say this was adding to that would be an understatement. “She is, yes. Not that I’m expecting anything.”

Maddie watched Nicks face, noticing he was about to say something when she grabbed his hand before he had the chance. “Ohhh, fuck.” The tighten in her uterus built, the pain growing with it as she squeezed her eyes shut, groaning through it. She could lightly sense Nicks thumb rubbing at her hand as she clung to his, before the contraction faded, leaving her breathless. “Sorry. What were you about to say?” She asked once eyes opening as she tried to catch her breath. “Just that I would like to be involved. If you want me to. We can go over details when you’re not about to deliver. Do you want a different nurse to do this?”

She was surprised by how gentle his question came across, she quickly shook her head in response. It was then her doctor cleared her throat, “if he’s in here, it’s best if it’s not in a professional manner.” Maddie had almost forgotten she was there, sharing a quick look as he nodded in understanding.

A few hours passed and Maddie and Nick had spent the time between contractions getting to know one another better, both laughing at how absurd the situation felt. They were down to ninety seconds apart, the late afternoon sun shining bright through the window, “I chose a name already.” Maddie told him, she was pacing around her room now, sitting making her back hurt too much. “Annie.” She paused in her pacing and leaned forward against the bed, head pressed into the mattress as she let out a loud cry of pain, Nick had jumped up quickly, pressing against her hips and applying much needed counter pressure. “I feel like her head is about to fall out.” She managed with a breathless laugh as the pain passed.

“I’ll get the Doctor in.” A button was pressed and she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, it only took a few seconds for her doctor to come in, doing all the necessary checks. Another contraction built, bringing with it more pressure than Maddie had been expecting, she shifted uncomfortably, almost as if she were trying to escape it. Both Nick and her doctor were talking her through the pain but she couldn’t hear it, trying not to scream until the vice grip on her uterus let go. “You’re fully dilated, it’s time to push.” She was told gently, knowing that the pain was almost over was a relief.

“In my birth plan, I wanted to be on my hands and knees, can I still do that?” She couldn’t shake the fear from her voice, the worry of being told no. Sitting was agony and she had never wanted to give birth on her back. Getting the okay, she wasted no time in shifting, now on her knees, resting against the raised bed head, she felt the pressure building, she gave no warning, grunting with the pressure as she gave her first push, knowing it was what her body needed her to do.

From then on, all she could focus on was the desperate need to deliver her baby. The supporting voices of her Doctor and Nick were muffled as she continued to push through each contraction. Soon there was a burning sensation as her vagina stretched, Maddie reaching out with a shaky hand for Nick. “I can’t. I can’t do this, it hurts too much.” Nick managed to perch on the edge of the bed, his hand cupping hers, it didn’t matter that they barely knew one another, that their reunion had been orchestrated by the birth of their child, in that moment it was as if they had always known each other. “You can do this. You already are. Just pant for a little bit, let yourself stretch and then bring her into this world.”

A kiss was pressed to her head as she panted and cried through the next couple of pains, it was a relief when she was told she could push again, Maddie growling as she bared down once more. “The head is out!” She heard the doctor call out after a few more pushes, she reached between her legs, gasping as she felt a head full of hair, laughing a little as she looked at Nick. It didn’t take long, barely thirty seconds before she had to continue, their daughter refusing to wait as she pushed to bring the shoulders out, the rest of the baby’s body following into the arms of her doctor.

Maddie moved carefully as Nick helped her to turn around and sit down on the bed, their baby quickly being placed against her bare chest, tears of joy falling down her face. The two shared a look between them, a soft smile before their gaze fell to their daughter, their lives changed forever.

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 3)

The room falls silent, realisation dawns on Y/N, “Jinx?”  She remembers how her girlfriend had told her of her past, her mistakes, how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend.  She didn’t mean to of course but it happened.  Caitlyn can only nod as she watches the tears fall from her eyes.  “I’m sorry Y/N” Caitlyn’s voice fills with sadness as she carefully treads over to her sister who is frozen in her spot, chest heaving as she clutches her shirt.  “A-and dad?” 

“He’s alive and well”  she sends a reassuring smile to her now fragile sister.  With this Y/N collapses to her knees with Caitlyn surging forward to catch her, letting her sob into her shoulder.  Caitlyn holds her close, trying to comfort her, the weight of their shared grief is palpable, and Caitlyn can feel her own emotions welling up in response.

After some time Y/N’s sobs die down to broken whimpers, she pulls back to meet her sister’s eyes, “I’m sorry smalz” she manages through her tears.  Caitlyn hand tenderly cups the younger one’s cheek, wiping away the never-ending steam of tears, “it’s okay, I’m sorry too” her voice soft and assuring.  “I know you’re only just finding out but please…don’t hate Jinx, I have a feeling you know what happened”  Y/N nods, her tears slowing down, “As much as it hurts I can’t hate her, I love her too much”  she buries her head in Caitlyn’s chest.

“You know, I remember the first time she told me about one of her biggest regrets…she told me how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend” she sniffles before continuing, “I kept thinking it must have been painful to carry that weight, I kept reassuring her that we’ve all done things we regret, hurt those who mean the most to us” 

Caitlyn tightens her arms around her little sister, wishing she could take away all her pain.  “I mean hell, do I even deserve to mourn mother after all the things I’ve done?”  Y/N mumbles with a pang in her heart.  “Hey none of that” Caitlyn pulls Y/N’s head from her chest guiding her eyes to her own, “regardless of what you have or haven’t done, she was still your mother” Her tender hands cupping Y/N's face.

The two sit in comfortable silence, the occasional tear escaping but quick to be swept away by the other’s hand.  “Do you think she would hate who I’ve become?” Y/N whispers causing her sister to chuckle.  “No but she would loathe your appearance”  she tries to brighten the mood, eliciting a chuckle form Y/N. “Of course, ‘no scion of the Kiramman name shall be seen in public looking like a vagabond’ “ Y/N mocks drawing out a laugh from both sisters.  “oh how I hated her lectures on appearance” Y/N groans throwing her head back.  “And yet between the two of us you were always dressed elegantly”  Caitlyn teases, “Only to avoid being suffocated in dresses” Y/N shivers in disgust at the thought causing Caitlyn to laugh once more.  “Oh and don’t forget the hair”  Caitlyn chuckles. 

“She would be devastated to see you cut your hair so short”  Caitlyn smiles whilst running her fingers through her sister’s now short yet neat hair.  “I can imagine the lecture I would receive about it, something along the lines of, ‘a Kiramman woman must be elegant and beautiful, not run around looking broody like a man’” the two laugh imagining their mother lecturing them. 

The laughter slowly dies down, “She never forgot about you, even kept your room exactly the same”  Caitlyn spoke in the silence.  Y/N looks down, slowly pulling out a pocket watch with the Kiramman crest, the silver shining brightly against the light.  Y/N stared at it before carefully opening it revealing a family photo when they we much younger, “I never thought I’d be back here, I could always picture the look of sadness on her face, and it broke me time and time again.”  Y/N’s words were raw, her voice hoars as a lump formed in her throat.

She pulls her little sister in for another hug, her presence calming her once more. “You ready to go out there?”  Caitlyn gestures to the door, both women knowing their girlfriends we on the other side and had possibly heard the whole fight.  “Does it make a difference whether I am or not?”  Y/N shakes her head as Caitlyn gets to her feet offering a hand to the younger of the two.  “Now or never” Caitlyn continues, “Yeah, I owe her an explanation”  Y/N looks down sombrely, “She has always been so honest with me about her past, about what she had done…I’m a hypocrite”  Y/N takes the hand offered to her, rising to her feet, now standing almost a head taller than her sister. 

They head to the door together before exiting the room, feeling eyes on her Y/N looks up, Y/E/C meeting pink.  “Hey” Jinx says softly, stepping forward as she picks at her nails.  “Toots I’m so sorry I-“ Jinx is cut off with a chaste kiss. 

“It hurts but it was a long time ago, neither of us knew that it was my mother” Y/N reassures with tear glossed eyes.

Y/N takes a deep breath, feeling a sense of trepidation, glancing at Caitlyn who nods encouragingly.  “Maybe we should sit for this”  She leads them back to the small living room where they had all previously been in, taking residence on the small table whilst Caitlyn and Vi share a chair leaving Jinx to use the other positioned in front of Y/N.

“Do you remember what I told you about my past?”  Y/N asks Jinx, taking her hands in her own, fiddling with her fingers.  “I mean it wasn’t a lot just that you were different from your family and that you didn’t belong” Jinx’s hand reaches up to cup Y/N’s cheek to comfort her the latter leaning into the warmth. 

“Precisely, I am the second born Kiramman daughter, my mother is” Y/N pauses, letting out a sigh, “was council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Caitlyn is my elder sister however…we do not share the same father”  Both Caitlyn and Y/N looks to each other for reassurance.

“Many of the people affiliated with my family begun to look down at my mother, saying she was unfaithful.  It was plain out obvious that I was not human, after all what human child had pointed ears and a tail?”  At this Vi looks up confused, “Tail?”  she tilts her head as the other three chuckle.  “Yes, I have a tail, I prefer to tuck it away” Y/N smiles at Vi who nods in understanding.

“As I was saying, my birth had tarnished my mother and the Kiramman name, it wasn’t her fault but yet she had to live with the consequences” Y/N’s frustration grew but Jinx was there to dissipate it, her touch along grounded her.  “My father he…he forced himself on my mother and as a result I was conceived”  Y/N finishes looking down with tears in her eyes.

“Caitlyn was the legitimate child of the Kiramman blood line whilst I was the half breed baseborn”   Tears slowly escape with Jinx being quick to wipe them away guiding her to look her in the eye.  “It’s okay toots, I’ve got you”  she comforted with a small smile.  “I desperately tried to bring pride to our family name but I was forever the burden, don’t get me wrong my family loved me unconditionally, even Tobius raised me as his own, but it didn’t change the fact that whilst I was present my family would be shunned” 

“Y/N” Caitlyn chokes out, her heart breaks hearing how her sister truly feels, Y/N was always the rock between the two, always eager to support her sister in any way possible, the strong one.  And now, now to hear that her little sister was breaking truly hurt her. 

Y/N looks over to Caitlyn, their eyes meeting, “The only way to save the family was for me to disappear, make everyone believe I was truly gone.  And so I did…I faked my death and fled the city, swore I’d never come back” The room fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace.  Caitlyn’s face was etched with pain and regret, her eyes welling up with tears.  Vi’s expression is a mix of shock and compassion, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face.

Jinx slowly pulls her lover into her arms, Y/N quick to nuzzle into her neck trying her best not to completely break down. 

Other Parts

[foundheavenly]

Masterlist

The temple chambers are dimly lit, with incense burning softly in the background. Sukuna has just returned from his absence, his ominous and overwhelming aura filling the room. He found you lying on the bed, nursing wounds from the recent attack.

You looked up at him and immediately felt this dangerous aura. He stood there, his crimson eyes narrowing, and he let out a low sound almost like a growl. “Who did this to you? Tell me their names, and I’ll ensure they regret drawing breath.”

Letting out a sigh, you tried to sit up but you simply winced at the pain. Your whole fragile body was aching from the wounds. “Sukuna, please, it’s nothing. Just some sorcerers from the capital who thought they could break you by hurting me.”

His fists clenched and his jaw tightened. “Nothing? This is not nothing. You are my wife- my queen. Anyone who lays a hand on you deserves to be erased from existence.”

You looked down, feeling his intense gaze. “I never wanted you to go to such lengths for me. I thought you married me to gain control over my village. I didn’t expect this…this care from you.”

For a moment his intense eyes pierced at you but they softened almost immediately as he kneeled beside you. “Foolish woman. I may have taken you to secure the land, but I stayed because i chose to keep you. Your every breath, your every pain- it’s mine to protect.”

You shivered at his words. Since when your relationship changed at this point?

“I thought I was nothing more than a sacrifice. A mere tool for you.”

He let out a breathy chuckle and reached out, brushing a hand along your bruised cheek. “A sacrifice?” Sukuna said and kept his eyes into yours. “You’re far more than that. You have shown me peace, patience…things i never cared to know. You taught me softness in a world I ruled with terror.” And suddenly his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. “So tell me. Who dared to think they could harm my queen while I was gone?”

“I’m not sure. I guess it was the sorcerers who want you dead. They were chanted something strange- something they thought could sever our bond.”

“As if mere sorcerers like them could sever something I have bound myself to. I will find them, every last one.” He looked at you with an intense gaze. “But first, my love, you will rest. I’ve already sent for the healers. Let them tend to you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise yet you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

He stood up, towering you with his giant height and four arms. His tone was firm yet soft. “Never thank me for protecting what’s mine.”

The healers arrived and bowed deeply to Sukuna before approaching you with a mix of reverence and fear. Under his cold, watchful gaze, they tend to your wounds with the utmost gentleness, knowing full well what would happen if they caused you even a sliver of pain.

A young healer gently cleaned and bandaged your arm. “Please, let us know if anything hurts, my lady. We’ve brought ointments that should ease the wounds.”

The second healer, an older man, turned to Sukuna and nervously looked up. “Master, we’ll be careful. She’ll be well in no time.”

“Good.” He simply said yet it was sharp as a knife. “I don’t want a single mistake. Her pain will be your pain. Understood?”

They nodded in unison.

They world quickly but gently, applying ointments and bandages to your wounds. You winced here and there, but it’s clear they’re doing their best to avoid hurting you. Sukuna’s presence loomed over them, his gaze never leaving you.

After a moment, he spoke. “Once they are finished, rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“You already do too much. I don’t want to burden you…”

He frowned. “Enough. Protecting you is no burden. They will suffer for what they have done. Just focus on healing.”

Once satisfied that the healers have done everything correctly, Sukuna nodded in approval. He turned to you one last time, his gaze lingering. “I’ll be back soon. No one else will dare come near you.”

He left the chambers, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. As he stepped outside, he let his fury settle over him like a cloak. He already knew who orchestrated this attack, and his mind sharpened with a dark satisfaction. Soon, those foolish enough to challenge him- and to harm you- will pay a steep price.

In the shadows of the capital, Sukuna’s aura surged as he moved through the crowded streets, homing in on his targets. He didn’t need to ask for information, the mere presence of his power sent whispers rippling through the city.

“They thought they could hide from me. Cowards.”

He knew exactly where to find them. Tonight, those who dared to touch his precious gem will learn what it means to cross the King of Curses.

[n0ahsebastians]

you can be all i got...

this is a little bit of a softer fic. i wanted to save the smut/sexual content for some other things i'm planning to write hehe

this was a request from someone so this is dedicated to that person <3

i hope you all enjoy this one, it's just pure fluff and softness <3

It was happening again. She was feeling worthless about herself, about this relationship. It happened every few months. At least it used to. It was more common now, with him being gone on tour and the band blowing up over the last couple years. She was in her head, her thoughts were scaring her. She really wanted this to work. It was working, or at least she had hoped it was. 

He was coming home tonight. It was their last show of the year and she was so excited to finally see him again. She was off work for the day, trying to keep herself busy from the awful thoughts floating through her head. What would she say to him? How was she supposed to tell him she was feeling awful about their relationship again? How was she supposed to explain to him that her friends talked about them as if she wasn’t in the room? She told him once and he told her to ignore them, that it meant nothing to him. She was important to him, more important than people talking stupidly about their relationship. It was childish honestly.

The front door opened while she was busy cleaning the dishes and she didn’t hear him come in. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. She nearly dropped the dishes in the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, feeling her heart nearly plummet out of her chest. He chuckled, pressing his face into the nape of her neck. 

“Hi baby.”

“You scared me.” She had soap on her hands but rested them over his as he swayed them back and forth. 

“Sorry,” he kissed her cheek and then the top of her head. She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth against the back of her neck, the weight of him against her back comforting her. She could feel his lips against her temple, his breathing slow and calm as he held her. 

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, reaching for a towel to dry her hands. She turned in his grasp to face him, looking up at his so tired eyes and the dark circles that accumulated underneath him. She wanted to kiss away the lines in his forehead and take away all his tiredness. Everything that was bothering him, or maybe everything that was bothering her. 

“Missed you more.” He kissed her softly, pressing her gently against the counter, his hands around her waist. He could feel the tears falling against her cheeks gently. He pulled away from her, resting their foreheads together. 

“What’s wrong, love?”

She wanted to tell him but she didn’t want him to think she was being ridiculous. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way about them. To the public eye, and even to their friends, she had always been “the older woman”. 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just…I’m happy you’re home.” 

“Something else’s wrong,” he whispers, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones. She wouldn’t look at him, she couldn’t. It’s not that she felt any shame in them being together, she never had. But looking at him right now, in this very moment, seemed like it would just break her. 

“Will you look at me please?” 

No, she thought, I can’t look at you, it hurts too much. 

But she did. She looked into his eyes again, those eyes that were always so full of love and adoration for her. For their relationship, for everything that she was. She loved him, she did. But it was eating away at her, the thoughts of him leaving her, the thoughts of him thinking this wasn’t working anymore. 

“Talk to me,” he rested his forehead against hers again, listening to her soft breathing and feeling the warmth of her body against his. 

“I’m just…people are talking again, you know? About us.”

“So?”

Noah never felt the same way as everyone else did about them. When they first met, the band was just starting out, just making a break for themselves. He knew even then she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She wasn’t even much older than him; 6 years was nothing to him. To her it was a constant battle she was fighting everyday. 

“That doesn’t bother you?” 

“Why should it? They’re all assholes anyways.”

He was right of course. That didn’t change how she felt about any of it however. The reassurance was there but the thoughts wouldn’t leave.

“How can I make you understand that I don’t give a shit what all those people think about us? What your friends think? I don’t care. I really don’t. I love you, nothing’s going to change that. I’ve always loved you.” 

She wrapped her hands around his wrists, sniffling at his words. He was so sweet, the kindest person she had ever been with, probably ever in her life. She was so tired of feeling this way but it was hard. It was hard to put the thoughts aside even when he was saying how much he loved her and cared about them.

“Noah…”

“I love you. I need you to hear me right now, okay? I need you to listen to what I’m saying.” 

She nodded slowly, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. 

“You’re the love of my life. I don’t care if people think you’re too old for me, that doesn’t fucking matter to me, okay? You’re everything to me, I love you. I knew I loved you when I saw you planning our shows with Matt at the venues and I knew I loved you when you told me your favorite movie was ‘10 Things’. I loved you the first time we kissed and when you told me your favorite song of ours was ‘Careful What You Wish For’.”

“That’s a lot of times to realize you love someone,” she chuckled and looked down at the floor again. 

“Those were all the times I fell in love with you over and over again. Everything I saw you doing, saying, telling my friends, I knew I loved you every time. And it made me fall in love with you even more.”

She was crying now. She loved this man so much. She loved absolutely everything about him and more. 

“I love you,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks in her hands. 

“I love you so much, you have no idea.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, his lips soft against hers. He held her close as if she might disappear in his very grasp. Nothing else seemed to matter to either of them at that very moment in time, just the two of them in the four walls of their shared home. 

“I have something for you,” he says against her lips, giving her a small peck before reaching into his jacket pocket. A small box was retrieved and her lips parted at the sight of it. She didn’t want to look too much into it, but if it was what she thought…

“Noah…are you…?”

“I told you you mean everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.” 

He opened the box. A silver band with a small diamond nestled on top was inside. She felt her breath shudder, the diamond reflecting off the kitchen light above them. It was so simple but so beautiful. Almost a reflection of their relationship. Simple yet beautiful. 

“Marry me,” he voice shakes as he says the words, the words he’d been planning to ask for weeks. It was all he could think about during the last few weeks of the tour. 

“Are…are you s-serious?” she whispers, her hands shaking as she reaches for the small box. 

“Yes, so serious.” 

She laughs gently and it’s music to his ears. He’s in love with her, so deeply in love with her. He could not think of a better woman to spend his life with. It was her, it’s always been her.

“Yes,” she breathes, not even realizing she’d said the word. She’d say yes in a million universes to this man if she could. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes, of course, yes, I’ll…fucking marry you, Noah.” 

Their kiss is deep, saying a thousand more things than words ever could. It’s the words she wished she could say to all those fucking people ever doubted their relationship, all those people who ever said he would leave her for someone younger. It was everything he had told her to reassure her and more. It was everything. 

“I love you so much, baby,” he whispered, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her chin, everywhere that he could to make sure she knew how loved she was by him. 

“I love you, this is…wow.”

He placed the small band on her ring finger, watching the way it slid perfectly along the digit. 

“I measured one of your rings before I left,” he admitted, interlocking their fingers together to feel the band against his own skin.

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

“How long have you been planning this for?”

“A few weeks, maybe like…two months.”

Her eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline. 

“You’ve been planning to ask me to marry you for two months?”

He shrugged, the corner of his lips moving up into a smirk. 

“You’re something else, Sebastian, you know that?”

“You love me.”

She did. “Yeah…yeah I do.”

[ak319]

Hello, I love your writing so much, if you can do so, could you please write a Yandere!Arthur Morgan x infant daughter reader where he's a papa bear to her, and he finds out she's being bullied by other kids in school. Ofc familial /platonic please

Thank you and hope you have a great day!

AN: moi heart AGH! Cute!! Tsym btw! (^///^) Warnings/MDNI: None, jus' fluff fluff nd' fluff! A little angst, bullying +++ Arthur is 30, Modern AU🍼 tag list: @nayykura @shackspossum @whalecage

Arthur's ears perked at the sound of your soft burp, a tiny noise that brought a tired but satisfied smile to his face. Finally. One of the trickiest tasks, but one he wouldn’t trade for the world. He adjusted his grip on you, gently patting your small back, his broad hand covering you almost entirely. Rocking in his old chair, the rhythmic creak matching his soft coos and steady breathing, he lulled you into a peaceful slumber, and before long, he drifted off too.

After a long, grueling day this was what grounded him. You were his balm, his anchor, the only thing keeping him steady after everything he’d been through. Holding you brought him a peace he never thought he’d feel again.

Stirring awake, he carefully laid you on the bed, making sure to stack pillows securely on the empty side. Then he stretched out beside you, his rugged face softening as he traced the curve of your cheek with a rough, calloused finger. He couldn’t resist placing featherlight kisses on your tiny forehead and rosy cheeks, his heart swelling with a love so fierce and pure it almost hurt

He couldn’t be more grateful for your presence. Just you, him, and this quiet farmhouse nestled in a peaceful community. The same family farmhouse he had nearly sold, back when everything seemed simpler, before life turned upside down.

Then he almost lost it all. Your mother, his wife (M/N), taken from him in a senseless tragedy during his time as a cop. The memory still felt like a jagged wound, one that would never fully heal. By some miracle, you had been spared, untouched by the violence that claimed her. God knows what he would have done if… if something had happened to you too. The thought alone twisted his stomach into knots. He knew he wouldn’t have survived it, he would’ve lost himself entirely.

So, he made a choice. He left it all behind after ensuring the culprits got caught and sentenced. The city, the job, the chaos. He packed up what was left of his life and came here, to the farm. Away from those dangerous, vengeful people who had shattered his family.

He wasn’t alone in the transition. His childhood best friend, John, stood by his side, helping him find his footing in this new chapter. With John’s support, he rebuilt, trading badges and bullets for the quiet rhythm of rural life. Now, he works from home as a graphic designer, balancing his new career with the role that means the most to him: being your father.

The move to the farmhouse was no easy feat, but Arthur didn’t care about the logistics, his top priority was you. Arthur let only Abigail watch over you while he handled the chaos of packing and unpacking. He didn’t trust babysitters, no way in hell. He’d heard enough horror stories from folks and read about things in the news that made his blood boil. The idea of leaving you with a stranger wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was unthinkable.

The only person he trusted was Abigail. “You’re family, and you’ve got Jack, so you know how it is,” he’d said when asking her to keep an eye on you. His version of breathing was checking in every ten minutes, asking Abigail if you’d eaten, slept, or cried. Even when he knew you were safe, his mind wouldn’t rest until he saw you again.

The farm itself had seen its fair share of upgrades, some subtle, others impossible to miss. The once-simple property now stood fortified with long, reinforced fences and modern electric security gates. The kind designed to deliver a harmless but sharp jolt to anything attempting to breach them, ensuring no unwelcome visitors, human or otherwise, made it in.

Security cameras were mounted everywhere, their lenses scanning every corner of the property without missing a spot. Arthur had spent weeks installing them, triple-checking blind spots until there were none.

And for those thinking of trying their luck? Booby traps, carefully concealed and strategically placed, added an extra layer of insurance. He hadn’t been sure at first, was that going too far?--but the idea of anyone getting past his defenses to threaten you erased any hesitation.

Inside, the house was an entirely different kind of fortress. Childproofing was everywhere, every sharp corner was padded, and cabinets latched tight.

Then there was the basement. What was once a dusty, forgotten space had been transformed into a stockpile, his grandfather’s old cavalry arsenal, now fully restocked and meticulously maintained. The weapons had been relics from a long-forgotten outlaw era, but Arthur saw them as a necessity. A last resort. If anyone dared to cross that line, they’d find out the hard way what kind of man they were dealing with.

Because nothing, nothing, was more important than keeping you safe.

❀˖°

“Hey--no, no-" Arthur picked you up, his glare faltering under the effort to stay stern. “You don’t claw or brawl with Pa’ on this matter, miss.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement as your legs thrashed in the air. 'Aren't you a tiny feral adorable kid---no be strict , Arthur-'

' “You, ma’am, are going in the tub-”

“WAIT! I’ll go myself!” you blurted, words tumbling out so fast they were practically gibberish. But Arthur, seasoned in the art of decoding your toddler babble, understood every syllable.

“Fine,” he huffed, setting you back down and straightening up with his hands on his hips. He gave you a look that screamed, I’m watching you.

Your eyes darted everywhere but to him. “Um-kay!,” you muttered with exaggerated determination, shuffling your feet as if preparing for the world’s longest journey.

“1,” you started.

“2…”

“um..4? 3-”

“You ain’t counting to ten for the tenth time, young lady. That’s it.” Before you could stage another dramatic delay, he swooped you up mid-mock-Olympian stance and plopped you straight into the tub.

“NOOOOOOO! NOT FAIR! you wailed, your indignation echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Nothing’s fair in baths and bedtimes,” he said with a grin, rolling up his sleeves. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, Bunny.”

❀˖°

Arthur set the plates and a steaming dish of soup and garlic bread on the table, his ears perking up as your voice carried in through the open window, accompanied by Mouse’s sharp barks. His German shepherd was stationed outside, a necessity for security, Arthur didn’t trust Mouse’s temperament indoors, and keeping the dog outside served as both a deterrent and a watchful guardian.

He glanced out and spotted you with a ball, your tiny frame dwarfed by the expanse of the yard. His jaw tightened. What’d I say about being out at this hour?

He stalked to the lawn without hesitation, his boots crunching against the gravel. He scooped you up without warning, setting you on his hip like you weighed nothing.

“When it’s near dusk, you are to be inside, you get inside without me needing to remind and call you every time,” he said, his voice firm, though not unkind. “Why do I always have to repeat myself?”

“I was gonna come, Pa’!” you protested, squirming slightly. Jeez, he needs to loosen up sometimes.

Arthur stopped, fixing you with a look that left no room for argument. “Some things I say are meant to be words on stone, you hear me? No arguing, Bug.”

He set you down gently but guided you firmly toward the house, casting one last glance at the fence and Mouse, whose ears twitched as if sensing Arthur’s unease.

❀˖°

The early morning mist still clung to the fields as Arthur loaded up the old truck, a fishing pole in the back, tackle box rattling as he slid it into place. The air was crisp, the scent of pine and fresh earth mingling with the faint smell of dew on the grass. You sat in the passenger seat, your legs swinging with excitement as you clutched your little fishing hat, a hand-me-down from Arthur that was still a bit too big for your head.

The drive to the lake was peaceful, the old truck rumbling along the dirt road as the first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. The lake, just a short distance from the farm, was quiet this time of morning, still and calm, with only the occasional ripple as the wind stirred the water.

Arthur parked the truck by the shore and hopped out, stretching his arms over his head. He opened the back, grabbing your tiny fishing rod first, a smaller one he had made sure to get just for you. He handed it over, his large hands carefully guiding yours to the handle.

“You know what to do, Bug?” he asked, crouching down to your level, his tone soft but serious.

You nodded, eyes gleaming with determination. “I throw it in, wait, then reel it in, Pa’!”

“Good girl,” he said, pride swelling in his chest. “But remember, patience is key. The fish don’t always bite right away.”

You gave him a mock serious look, puffing out your chest. “I can be patient.”

Arthur smiled and ruffled your hair before picking up his own rod. Together, you both walked to the edge of the water, the soft crunch of grass underfoot. He demonstrated how to cast his line, showing you the way to swing the rod before releasing it into the water. You watched carefully, eyes focused on the movement, and then it was your turn.

Arthur stood behind you, guiding your hands as you swung the rod and released the line, the soft splash of it hitting the water echoing in the quiet morning. You let out a little cheer, stepping back to wait.

“Good job, Bug. Now we wait.”

You sat down on the grassy shore, your legs dangling, and Arthur followed suit, sitting close enough that he could keep an eye on you but still giving you the space to enjoy the moment. The world seemed so still here, only the sounds of the water lapping gently at the shore and the occasional bird call filling the air.

Minutes passed. Arthur cast his line again, his concentration on the ripples in the water, but he always kept an ear out for you. You were so quiet, so focused on the task at hand, that he couldn’t help but smile.

“Pa’?” you asked after a while, your voice soft but curious.

“Yeah, Bug?”

“Can we do this every month!?”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at you, his chest tight with love. “Of course, Bug. We’ll always fish together, whenever you want.”

You beamed, your little fingers still wrapped around the fishing rod, staring out at the lake with a peaceful contentment that mirrored his own.

And then, as if on cue, there was a tug on the line. You gasped, your eyes wide, and Arthur was there in a flash, his strong hands guiding yours as you struggled to reel it in.

“Got it, Bug! Reel it in, slow and steady. You’ve got this.”

You grinned, your little arms straining against the weight of the fish, the excitement in your eyes contagious. Arthur stood close, his hands still hovering just in case, but he could see you were doing it all on your own.

With a final pull, you brought the fish to the shore, Arthur helping you hold it up for a brief moment, both of you staring at the wriggling catch.

“We did it!” you cheered, jumping up and down with excitement.

Arthur laughed, lifting you up into his arms. “You did it, Bug. You caught the first one. I’m proud of you.”

You giggled, your face flushed with happiness. “We’re gonna have fish for lunch! YAY!👹 "

Arthur laughed, holding you close. “Yeah, we will. And we’re gonna have a lot more days just like this.”

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you both spent the rest of the morning fishing, the peaceful quiet of the lake wrapping around you like a blanket. Every now and then, Arthur would catch a fish of his own, but it was clear which one of you was the real star of the day.

❀˖°

One evening, as usual, Arthur sat at his desk, working on his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his focused face. You were sitting nearby, playing quietly, but after a moment, you turned to him, your small brow furrowed in thought.

“Pa,” you asked, your voice soft but filled with curiosity, “why don’t I have a mommy like Jack? Like the ones on T. V. ?”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting for this question, dreading it, but he knew it was time to answer. He paused for a moment, setting his laptop aside, and turned to face you, his expression gentle.

“Well, Bug,” he started, his voice warm and tender, “you know how some kids have two parents, right? They’re like a big team, helpin' each other out. But you,” he said with a wink, “you’re extra special. Sometimes, God decides one parent is all a kid needs. Just one, but that one’s enough to love ‘em, protect ‘em, and make sure they’re always happy.”

He leaned down to your level, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. “And that’s you, sweetheart. You got me, and I got you. We’re a team too, just the two of us.”

You blinked, absorbing his words, and a small smile tugged at your lips. Arthur ruffled your hair affectionately, the worry in his chest easing as he saw you begin to understand.

“Some kids might need a bigger team, but not you. You’re my girl, and I’m all you need, ain’t that right?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes lighting up with trust and love. Arthur smiled, his heart full. “You don’t need a mommy to be loved, Bug. You’ve got all the love you could ever need, right here with me.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, feeling your little arms wrap around him. “And I’m gonna love you forever, no matter what.”

❀˖°

Arthur couldn't believe how quickly time had passed. One moment, it seemed like you were still a tiny thing, curled up in his arms, and now, the time had come to enroll you in school. He didn't want to let you go. He'd kept you close, always close, and the thought of someone else seeing you, taking care of you, made a cold knot form in his stomach. But he knew John was right. You needed to make friends. You needed to grow.

"Y/N needs to learn how to be around other kids, Arthur," John had said, his voice filled with that well-meaning confidence. "Jack goes to the same school too, so it'll be fine. It's just school. Let her have a chance."

Arthur had reluctantly agreed. He trusted John, mostly, and if Jack was there, well... that was a bit of relief. Still, the idea of you being away from him, surrounded by others, made his chest tighten. He was used to keeping you safe, keeping you all to himself. The thought of someone else influencing you, teaching you things....but he would do this for you.

And so, with his heart heavy but his determination set, Arthur had filled out the papers and enrolled you in school. He kept telling himself it was for your own good, that it would help you grow, make you more confident. Even if it was hard to admit, you were growing up, and he had to let you experience the world outside the walls of their home.

But Arthur knew something else, too. You were shy. You didn't like being around other people, especially strangers. He'd always been there to protect you, to shield you from the world outside. But now, the world would be coming to you.

As he walked you to school for the first time, his hand lingering a little too long on your shoulder, he whispered softly, "You stick close to brother Jack, alright? If you need any help, you go to him. You don’t need anyone else. Just him, just me, and you. No one else matters."

You gave him a shy nod, looking up at him with those wide eyes that always seemed to need reassurance. Arthur smiled down at you, brushing a lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

"Good girl. And don’t let anyone take advantage of you.”

❀˖°

“You eat your lunch today?” Arthur asked, his tone casual but observant, as you stood in front of him with your hands tucked behind your back.

You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Uh-huh!”

Arthur opened the lunchbox, finding it spotless inside, not a crumb left. For a moment, he felt a spark of pride, was he really lucky enough to have a kid who finished her lunch every single day? But then, something about your overly innocent expression made him pause. He set the lunchbox down and folded his arms, tilting his head.

“So,” he said, setting the lunchbox down and crossing his arms, “how was it?”

“Hmm?” You glanced up at him.

“The sandwich,” he said, watching your reaction closely. “Was it good?”

“Oh, yeah!” you said too brightly. “Really yummy.”

Arthur tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “What did I make again? Just slipped my mind.”

“Uh… peanut butter and jam?” you mumbled.

Arthur’s jaw tightened, though his expression stayed calm. He crouched down to your level, his presence steady and unyielding. “You sure about that, darlin’? Because I know I packed you a chicken and cheese sandwich this mornin’.”

You froze, the color draining from your face.

He sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Now, you and I both know you didn’t eat that sandwich. So why don’t you go on and tell me what really happened?”

You looked down at your shoes, your voice trembling. “I… I was going to eat it, but some kids… they took it.”

Arthur’s heart sank, though his expression remained calm for your sake. He reached out and gently lifted your chin so you had to meet his eyes. “They took it?”

You nodded, biting your lip as tears threatened to spill. “I told them to stop, but… but they wouldn’t give it back. They laughed and said it wasn’t m-ine anymore.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched a flicker of something dark flashing in his eyes. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Bug,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “you listen to me. No one, and I mean no one, gets to treat you like that. You understand?”

You sniffled, nodding against his shoulder.

“They got names, these kids?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with a steel promise that this wasn’t going to be ignored.

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor. Then, in a barely audible whisper, you murmured a few names.

Arthur nodded, his jaw tightening. “Alright. I’ll deal with ‘em. You ain’t gotta worry about that anymore.”

As he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers brushed against a faint redness across your skin. He stilled, his brow furrowing. “What’s this?”

You instinctively tried to pull your hand away, but Arthur held it gently, his thumb brushing over the red mark. “Bug,” he said, his tone dropping to that low, firm register that always made you listen. “Who did this to you?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you sniffled. “It... it was the teacher,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Arthur blinked, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “The teacher?” he repeated, his tone deceptively calm, though you could feel the storm brewing beneath it.

“I told her about the kids taking my lunch,” you explained, your words coming in halting gasps. “She... she said I was tattling and hit me with a ruler for ‘causing trouble.’”

Arthur’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, but only for a moment.

Arthur stood so abruptly that his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “Get your shoes on, Bug. We’re going to the school.”

“But-”

"No buts. No one lays a hand on my girl, now c'mon, Pa’s got somethin’ he needs to take care of."

The sound of Arthur’s boots echoed ominously in the otherwise quiet hallway as he strode toward the principal’s office, his expression carved from stone. His hand hovered protectively over your shoulder as he guided you along.

The principal looked up as Arthur entered, his usual composure faltering at the sight of the respectable ex-cop's stormy glare.

“Mr. Morgan,” the principal began, forcing a tight smile, “is there-”

Arthur didn’t wait for pleasantries. “There a reason my daughter came home with a red welt on her hand?” he demanded, his voice low but seething.

The principal blinked, momentarily caught off guard “I--I’m not sure what you mean-”

“She told me her teacher hit her,” Arthur interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut. “With a ruler. After she reported kids stealin’ her lunch. That’s what I mean.”

“Well, if a teacher disciplined her, I’m sure-”

Arthur stepped forward, leaning over the desk, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “You think layin’ a hand on my girl is ‘discipline’? You call ignorin’ the bullies and punishin’ the victim a job well done?

“We have rules about-”

Arthur leaned forward, his presence towering even as he kept his voice level. “You got rules about discipline, huh? How about rules about protectin’ kids?! Or do you only enforce the ones that let you blame the victim!?”

“Mr. Morgan, I understand you’re upset-”

“Upset doesn’t cover it,” Arthur snapped, his voice rising slightly. “My girl’s been comin’ home hungry because you let bullies run wild. And now she’s got a bruise on her arm because she finally got tired of takin’ it? You think that’s how you run a school? By punishin’ the one kid who’s just tryin’ to eat her damn lunch in peace? Because if that’s how you run this place, we got a bigger problem than I thought.”

The principal held up his hands, visibly nervous. “I assure you, Mr. Morgan, we take such incidents seriously. I’ll speak to the teacher and-”

“No, you’ll do more than SPEAK!" Arthur took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, you’ll make sure she’s held accountable. And while you’re at it, you’ll deal with those bullies, too. My daughter’s been hungry three times this week because of them, and now she’s got a mark on her hand for speakin’ up?! That ends today.”

“Of course, of course,” the principal stammered. “I’ll handle it immediately.”

Arthur straightened, his gaze never wavering. “You’d better. You’re gonna deal with those bullies and that damned teacher, properly. And you’re gonna make damn sure no one here ever lays a hand on my daughter again. Otherwise, I’ll be takin’ this to the school board, the police, and anyone else who’ll listen. You got no idea what I can do. You got me? You’ll be answerin’ to me."

He turned, placing a reassuring hand on your back as he guided you out of the office. As soon as you were outside, he crouched down and looked you in the eye.

“You did the right thing, Bug,” he said softly. “And I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. But you leave dealin’ with grown-ups to me, alright? Nobody’s gonna hurt you again.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“Now, let’s go home,” he said, ruffling your hair. “We’ll make somethin’ good for dinner and figure out how to make sure this never happens again.

❀˖°

“So... no school?” you asked hesitantly, peering up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, and sighed. “No, Bug. You’re still gonna study--but at home, alright?”

He could already hear John’s voice nagging in his head, telling him he was being too overprotective, that keeping you out of school might isolate you further. But Arthur dismissed it. You were still so young, still figuring out the world, and he decided what was best for you. Nobody else.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he brushed a hand over your hair. “Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you go back there to get hurt again. Not by kids who don’t know how to act, not by some teacher who should’ve never had a classroom in the first place. You’re my responsibility, and I ain’t lettin’ anybody mess with you like that. Ever again.”

You nodded slowly, relaxing into the bed. His words felt like a shield wrapping around you, and you trusted him entirely.

Arthur watched you settle, his jaw tightening slightly as anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. He’d been right on the edge of losing it, of storming over to those kids’ homes and making their parents pay the price and make them understand what it meant to raise decent human beings. And that teacher? Though fired, it still didn’t sit right with him. The thought of her laying a hand on you made his blood boil. It had taken every cell to control to not blow her brains out.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on you instead of the anger that threatened to bubble over. “I’ll teach you myself,” he said, his tone lighter now as he tried to make you smile. “We don’t need teachers like that, anyway. I’ll make sure you learn plenty, and we’ll even have fun doin’ it.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice small but hopeful.

“Really,” he said, tugging the blanket up around you and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now, you get some rest, Bug. We’ll figure out all the details in the mornin’.”

❀˖°

After finishing up the dishes and double checking all the doors, Arthur made his way back to your room. He found you sitting at your small desk, scribbling on a piece of paper with intense concentration.

"What’re you workin’ on, Bug?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You looked up, a hint of shyness in your eyes. "A thank-you card," you said quietly.

Arthur’s brow furrowed. "For who?"

"For you." You held up the paper, a drawing of you and him making a cake. Above it, in your wobbly handwriting, it read: "Thank you for being my Pa."

Arthur froze, his chest tightening at the sight. He stepped closer, kneeling beside you to get a better look. "Well, I’ll be..." he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "That’s real nice, darlin’. Prettiest thing I’ve seen all day."

You smiled, a little bashful but proud. "You always take care of me. So, I wanted to make something for you too."

Arthur reached out and gently pulled you into his arms, holding you close. "You don’t ever have to thank me for that, sweetheart. Lookin’ after you? That’s the best thing I’ll ever do."

You nuzzled into his chest, your small arms wrapping around his neck. "Still. Love you, Pa."

"I love you more, Bug. Always and forever."

[arttsuka]

Ok here are my thoughts about arcane season 2, buckle up

I wana say, I liked the second season, less about what we saw, more about the story they wanted to tell.

It started fine but as soon as episode 4 came the problem was clear. The pacing was bad. Everything was happening too fast, there was no time for smaller moments. A lot of character development was off screen too.

I've heard they were supposed to have more seasons but decided last minute to cut the show short because 'there are more stories to be told'.

Caitlyn had most of her arc off screen which is such a shame, I really wanted to see how she realized she was being manipulated, I wanted to see her dictatorship era. But we got none of that, it's implied it happened but we didn't get to see it.

Sevika was relevant up until ep4 and then we see her again in ep8. I don't think she has any speaking lines after ep4. Such a waste of her character, she was really interesting.

Isha. She came to the series as suddenly as she left. I have a lot of problems with her character, one of them being that she wasn't introduced organically. She randomly fell on Jinx (by accident). Arcane relies way too much on 'right place right time', on coincidences so, when that can be avoided, it definitely should. Make her fall on top of the first person that passed through on purpose so she won't get hurt (that person being Jinx is the only coincidence here). Her sacrifice felt a bit unearned because we didn't get to see her a lot, and after ep6, they never speak of her again (it affected Jinx sure but they don't even mention her once).

Mel. They did her dirty this season. They speedruned her arc (and the whole thing felt so out of place). I've heard that maybe the next show was going to be focused on Noxus etc which, if it turns out to be true, would be a bad decision. If they are actually planning on making something about Noxus, I'd at least expect Ambessa to be there and also, it would be a great opportunity to learn about Mel and her powers in greater detail instead of whatever we got.

Viktor as the herald, ultimate life form or whatever was so short lived. Make you wonder why they decided to include it only in the last episode instead of implementing a bit earlier.

Vi was also so, useless this season. She did almost nothing. She was a punching bag for the most of it.

Jinx felt a bit ooc, less about what she was doing and more about how there wasn't any time to see her get over Silco's death. Silco had such a negative effect on her mental health (all these hallucinations from s01) but he dies and boom, mentally stable? I would have liked to see her become healthier (it would also tie nicely with getting to know Isha better).

Vander. They brought him back. It was actually foreshadowed in the first season. Him being back is not my problem, on the contrary I think it was a great way to naturally bring Vi and Jinx back together. My problem was how we see him for 2 episodes (and then he 'dies'). It felt like a waste of time honestly, time that could have been used to see something else.

Episode 6 has to be the worst episode of the whole show. The pacing is pretty bad. The events that take place in it feel like 3 episodes, not 1. We get not 1 but 2 different artstyle montages, making the episode look, weird...

The best episodes were probably ep03 and ep07. Both had nice pacing (especially ep07, it felt like it was straight out of s01) and the story explored in them was pretty captivating. But I do have a problem with ep07. It's where Ekko got his 'time powers' from and honestly, they were pretty underwhelming? Also not at all well implemented to the story. We literally see him use them 3 times. 1: when he finds out about them, 2: when he saves Jinx and 3: when he goes back to try not to get captured by Viktor's mannequins. The last 2 on the same episode. That 4-second-limit was never really relevant (at least I don't think it's was). They wasted an entire episode giving him powers only for him to never really use them and for the machine to act as a bomb.

Also I didn't like the dancing scene with Powder and Ekko. I understand the vision behind it but I felt like my TV was dropping frames. It felt choppy, cheap (such a shame for a beautiful scene).

Now, I liked the lesbian sex scene in ep8, I really did, but it felt so out of place. Jinx basically implied she was going to kill herself, Vi was on the verge of tears because she was insecure about how she seemed to only make the wrong choices and then, that scene happens. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I've seen people compare it to the s01 'Jayce/Mel vs Viktor dying' scene and while I understand where the comparison is coming from it's definitely not the same. In that scene, Jayce didn't know Viktor was dying (he knew about his deteriorating health, but he was clearly shocked and left Mel to go check out on him etc etc).

Also, Caitlyn should have gone down on Vi. I think they image would have been stronger. Vi was at the bottom of the barrel her entire life (literal plot point, being from the undercity etc) so seeing Caitlyn, someone of higher status and power, being the one to 'bow' would just be more powerful. Just a thought.

I just feel like I liked their relationship and dynamics more in s01. They had more casual moments, more natural dialogue. Yes we won but at what cost? Their relationship was so sweet in s01. In s02 it started sweet, turned out to be manipulative on Caitlyns side*, they break up and then they're fine again.

*in ep3 it's clearly shown that while Caitlyn loves Vi she's willing to manipulate her to reach her own goals. That first kiss we see was definitely more of a 'I'm gonna play with your emotions so you don't doubt me' rather than 'let's just kiss now'.

I liked how Jinx cut her hair. The whole 'hair holds memories' and how she was ready to move on. Too sad that scene didn't have the proper gravity it deserved because the lesbian sex was happening (probably) the same time.

Ep9 was, something. I'm conflicted about it. On one hand I really liked how they tied up Viktor's and Jayce's plot lines, on the other hand everything else was so rushed. Caitlyn and Mel were a team (they didn't feel like one honestly), they fought Ambessa and then she randomly died from the black rose. It felt like they just wanted an excuse to kill her. 'She needed to die so Mel could become the wolf' no, not really. She could still be alive, have Mel 'spare her life' or something. It would be more on track with Mel's ideals that way.

Jinx sacrificing herself to save Vi was also so forced**. It felt specifically written so she could 'die'. I do believe that 'Jinx is alive' theory because Caitlyn looking at the vents while holding that monkey head Jinx's bomb had + that air balloon Powder said she'd fly away with are all too specific to be coincidences.

**her sacrifice was forced but foreshadowed. Isha was acting as an 'archetype' of what Jinx had to become. Her whole existence in the show was so Jinx could become an icon for Zauns revolution and for her to sacrifice herself so Jinx could see and do the same, break the cycle.

What really bothered me was how Jayce and Viktor seemed to be the only characters who had a complete story, everyone else had a lot missing scenes (they did too but way less, there never was a point where I thought 'where does this come from?', everythingwas explained about them. I wish I could say the same about the 'arcane', magic). It's so unfair, on the female lead show about 2 sisters for the male characters to be the final focus. Also another thing that bothered me how they did a seemingly better job at writing Ekko/Powder, the straight ship we got to see for 1 episode on a different timeline, rather that Vi/Caitlyn, the lesbian ship AND main focus since they're both main characters from the timeline were following.

Something else, I feel like the score for s01 was better/more memorable than s02. Sure s02 has some pretty good songs but s01 felt more diverse on that? Maybe that's just me.

Kinda lazy how they used the same song for the opening credits while using visuals way too similar (if not the same) to the artstyle of the show. Although, truth to be told, the s01 opening was way too good for any standards, it would be very hard if not impossible to make something better. Still, I feel like they could have done a better job.

Also maybe that's just me but there were a lot of predicable moments. Sometimes a scene would start playing and I'd know exactly where it was going (something I can't say for season 1).

I really liked in s01 how in each episode, before the opening, we got to see some glimpses from the past of each character. It was a great way not to have too many random flashbacks and include these scenes organically in each episode. In season 2 we don't get that. I understand that we already know these characters but it's still something I adored from s01.

What made s01 so appealing was how they handled the story, didn't rush things. How they took their time to make us understand and like the characters. With s02 we didn't get that luxury.

Season 1 was a masterpiece and unfortunately, season 2 didn't meet the expectations.

I still enjoyed watching it but it was definitely not as good as the experience of watching s01.

[doumadono]

Are you going to look for a new hubby and let the past die with Dabi? I can't understand why people are so angry, he was just a fictional character after all 🤷🏻

CAUTION: A LONG RANT

I need to start by admitting something: I used to think manga was a thing for teenagers, a phase that people would grow out of eventually. For years, I dismissed it without giving it a proper chance. But almost two years ago, I let my curiosity win, and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Upon discovering My Hero Academia, I found myself diving headfirst into a world of characters, stories, and emotions that were far more layered and meaningful than I ever expected.

At first, Bakugo caught my attention. His abrasive personality and explosive demeanor were off-putting to some, but to me, he was fascinating. Here was someone with an undeniable drive, someone who never gave up no matter how many obstacles stood in his way. His goal-oriented nature and resilience resonated with me, even if he was rough around the edges. But then… Dabi entered the spotlight, and everything changed.

Falling for Dabi felt like a natural process, something that happened without me even realizing it. I’ve always had a soft spot for villains — for as long as I can remember, they’ve been the characters I gravitated toward. There’s something about their complexity, their pain, and the choices they make that intrigues me. So, it was inevitable that I would become a fan of both Dabi and Shigaraki. But with Dabi, it was different. I never knew it was possible to care for a fictional character as much as I came to care for him.

Dabi’s story was heartbreaking yet captivating, it was so complex that you were always curious what will happen next. His resilience, the way he carried himself with an air of defiance, even as his world crumbled around him. He wasn’t just a character; he was a mirror reflecting the struggles and scars of anyone who’s ever felt broken.

During some of the hardest times in my life, reading the chapters where he and the League of Villains appeared became a source of comfort and hope. Somehow, their presence was a mood lifter, a reminder that even in the face of darkness, there’s a fire that can keep burning. For that, I’ll always be grateful.

When I read the chapter where the words “slowly heading to death” were uttered, I had a sinking feeling in my chest. Deep down, I knew this would be his fate. As much as I hoped for the best, as much as I wanted Horikoshi to surprise us with a different outcome, a part of me braced for what felt inevitable. And when the confirmation came, it hurt more than I can put into words. I cried a river of tears for him. Not just for Dabi but for everything he represented to me. It felt like losing a close friend, someone who had been there for me through so much, even if only on the pages of a story.

If Dabi’s death is reduced to something that happens off-panel, during a time skip, then I can’t express how deeply disappointing and infuriating that would be. For a character as complex and integral as Dabi, such an abrupt dismissal would be a slap in the face to fans who invested so much in his journey. I wanted — no, needed — to see the aftermath of his passing, especially within the Todoroki family. That dynamic deserved to be explored. How did Endeavor, a character I admittedly like despite acknowledging his horrific history of domestic abuse and neglect, process the loss of his firstborn son? A son he irreparably broke, whether he wants to admit it or not.

And Rei — God, Rei. She was a mother forced to endure the unimaginable pain of losing her child not once, but twice. As someone who has lost a child myself, I know the soul-deep agony of such loss. It’s a pain that never leaves you, a sharp, searing blade that carves out a permanent hollow in your heart. To see Rei’s perspective, her grief, and her struggle to reconcile that pain, would have added so much depth and emotional weight to the story.

These are the nuances that could have made the Todoroki family saga feel complete — an honest portrayal of love, regret, and reconciliation in the wake of unbearable loss. But given how Horikoshi has treated the Todoroki family so far, I have no faith that we’ll ever get that closure. His tendency to sideline emotional arcs and sweep unresolved character threads under the rug is beyond frustrating. It’s like Horikoshi’s become the Thanos of his own creation, snapping away characters and narratives he can no longer be bothered to handle.

To me, Dabi was one of the most complex characters in My Hero Academia, second only to Shigaraki. The decision to deny him a proper redemption arc felt like a betrayal, a bitter reminder that sometimes, even the best stories don’t give you the closure you hope for. Horikoshi’s handling of Dabi’s arc — giving fans glimmers of hope only to snatch them away — was, frankly, cruel. Killing him off after dangling the possibility of survival was, in my opinion, a failure to fully explore the depth of the character he had created.

But even now, I know I’ll never stop loving Dabi — or the League of Villains as a whole. They brought so much light into some of my darkest moments. They reminded me of the beauty in imperfection, the strength in perseverance, and the power of standing your ground even when the world is against you.

In my mind, Dabi is safe. He’s happy. He’s finally found the peace and love he deserved, and no one can take that from me. The same goes for Shigaraki. To me, they have the happy ending they were robbed of in canon. That’s the reality I choose to believe in, and it’s a reality I’ll continue to write for.

So no, I’m not “moving on” or “finding a new favorite.” A dedicated fan doesn’t abandon their muse, even in death. Dabi, Shigaraki, and the League will always have a place in my heart, and I’ll continue to celebrate them through my writing. In my head and in my stories, they live on — free, loved, and content. And that’s how it will always be.