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#very determined to be someone who can protect those he loves
cursezoroark · 4 months
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ship chart for them for categorical purposes. chart by @/goomyloid.
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year
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Dean is such a paradox for me because on the one hand, I have been actively triggered by him in the show, there are moments where, intentionally or not, the writers managed to create a portrayal of manipulation and abuse and control issues that it sets off actual alarms for me. And on the other hand, I would not have him any other way. There is something — not comforting, that’s too soft a word — about knowing where Dean’s actions stem from, having seen and learned all that we do about his childhood neglect and parentification and the trauma he goes through repeatedly in the show, and that he doesn’t come out clean. He comes out a goddamn mess who ends up hurting the people around him in reaction to his own pain!
There’s a reality there that’s. Almost nice, actually. Distressing to watch, but it is a fucking mess, it’s a good mess! He’s got zero healthy coping skills and a healthy relationship with say, his brother, is terrifying because it leaves him open to abandonment!
I’m not sure I’m wording this correctly. There is a way to be a good abuse victim. Take the pain, martyr yourself on it, and then, even if you have no support or idea how to, then you have to become a Good Person who never hurts anyone the way you have been learning to your entire life. Simply toss everything that shaped you out the door and emerge a saint with a tragic backstory. And Dean is not that. And that’s so fucking good. Everything that he has gone through continues to effect the way he treats the people around him, and he can’t fight the behaviors he might recognize as harmful because he also sees them as protecting him (or protecting Sam by keeping Sam with him.)
And sometimes, idk. It feels good to see a guy who didn’t heal the “right way.” Who mostly didn’t heal at all, just keeps the wound open because it’s easier that way.
#there’s a whole other bit to this about how like. it’s hard for fandom to hold the idea that someone can be both a victim and abusive#at the same time. that the ways someone has been hurt don’t always shape them into kindness and wide-eyed sympathy. occasionally it just#makes them hard to live with. and I think most obviously is the thing that a lot of what Dean does is an expression of love. of protection.#he’s very much his father’s son in that way. that’s why Sam. the guy he’s been Told to protect his whole life. is also the person he ends up#hurting the most. it’s tragedy. it’s realistic. it’s a good fucking mess.#and that’s why I don’t get interpretations of dean that are determined to shave off the ugly parts of his character. to me those are the#parts that make him a character worth revisiting. he’s so full of love. and he uses it to hurt people. he means to sometimes. a lot of the#time he doesn’t but hurts them anyway. he has been shaped by violence his whole life. and it’s just. I get why someone might take this#part of him away. to make him easier to love. because I get that he’s stressful to watch also like I get that. but he is.#he is compelling. in his anger and his controlling behavior and his strangling love. he is compelling in all the ways he has become this.#Dean’s degradation into these behaviors can be both a failure of a show that ran to long but also the believable trajectory of a man who#can’t heal. and I love him for that. I love him for emerging from pain as a angry sharp thing. I love that it brings the glimpses of him#being gentler and recognizing his actions as bad into stark relief. I love that this recognition often only lasts until he is hurt again and#then he backpedals into the safety of behaviors he knows will allow him to control a situation through force or manipulation.#it’s good fucking mess. you know? dean winchester everybody.#maybe I should have put all that in the main post. oh well. too late now.#spn#dean winchester#tw abuse
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helen-with-an-a · 14 days
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sucker for angst can I please request one where putellas!reader is the youngest and gets a heart attack on the field and mapi is the first one to do cpr (alexia is almost inconsolable) very angsty with comforting end
Hiiii - thank you so much for this, I loved writing it. I tried to keep the details of CPR to a minimum, but also I was a lifeguard for over 5 years, and being trained in CPR was essential in our work, so the CPR instructions are true and accurate. I hope that this might stick in someone's mind and should the worst ever happen, you mind be able to remember what to do.
Memory
Barça Femeni x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x sister!Reader
Description: Memory is a blessing and a curse when the Reader falls unconscious during a match
Content Warning: CPR, Medical issues, Illness
Word Count: 6.7k
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Alexia prided herself on her memory. It was something she was exceptionally confident in, a skill that had always set her apart. Every little detail, from the exact dates of events to the clothes people were wearing, and even who said what, was meticulously catalogued in her mind.
She could never forget the day her world began to change, the day she first learned about you. Eleven-year-old Alexia was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor beside Alba both of them barely able to contain their excitement as Mami and Papi called them over. The room had an air of something important, something life-altering. And then, with a smile that Alexia could still see in her mind's eye, her mother gently placed a hand on her growing belly and told them the news. Frijolita, they said. A little bean. That’s what they called you before you even had a name. You were the baby who would soon complete their family, the littlest sister who would turn their duo into a trio. Alexia had felt a surge of excitement and responsibility all at once. The idea of having a new sibling was thrilling, but there was something deeper, an unspoken promise she made to herself to always look out for you.
The memory of your actual arrival was just as vivid. Alexia had just turned twelve, the birthday balloons still clinging to the walls of her room. It was the early hours of the morning when her Tío gently shook her awake, his voice hushed but full of excitement. "She's here," he whispered. She had leaped out of bed, her heart racing, and hurried to the hospital, the world outside still dark and quiet. The moment she saw you, bundled up and sleeping peacefully, she felt a connection so strong it was as if she had known you her entire life. You were tiny, fragile, yet perfect. She cried when she met you – the tears slipping down her cheeks as she pressed the gentlest of kisses to your forehead, promising that she would do anything to protect you.
As the years passed, you grew, and so did Alexia's collection of memories. She remembered a three-year-old you, all curiosity and energy, those wide hazel eyes – so much like hers – looking up at her with an innocent plea. You wanted to join her in the backyard as she practiced her skills, your small hands tugging at her shirt, your voice insistent. Despite your age, your determination was unwavering, and Alexia couldn’t resist. She let you chase after the ball, your laughter ringing through the air, a sound that still echoed in her heart.
Then there was the memory of a five-year-old you, stubborn as ever, refusing to be left out. You had clambered onto her lap with surprising force, your small arms wrapping around her as if you were afraid to let go. It was a day she could never forget – your mother sitting on the couch, tears streaming down her face, her heart breaking over your father. The room was heavy with grief, but you, in your innocent determination, had climbed into Alexia's lap as if she could shield you from the sadness, as if being close to her would make everything better. And in that moment, Alexia held you tightly, whispering reassurances she wasn’t even sure of herself. You had looked up at her with those same hazel eyes, filled with trust, and she had made another silent promise – to be the strongest she could, to be strong for you, even when the world around them seemed to be falling apart.
You were ten when you nearly broke her front door down one Saturday afternoon, bursting into the house with a flurry of excitement and noise that filled every corner. The commotion you caused was so overwhelming that it convincingly distracted her from the anger and confusion that had first crossed her mind. She had been startled by the loud banging, wondering who could be causing such a ruckus, but all of that was forgotten the moment she saw you.
"They want me! They want me!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the house as you ran from room to room, barely able to contain your excitement. Nala  was just as caught up in the moment, barking and dancing around your feet as if she, too, understood the magnitude of what was happening. You were like a whirlwind, full of energy and joy, and it took a full thirty minutes before you could calm down enough to finally show her the papers you had been clutching so tightly.
When she saw the bold lettering at the top – FC Barcelona La Masia – her heart skipped a beat. Barcelona wanted you. Her little sister, the one she had watched grow and develop her skills with relentless passion, had been noticed by one of the most prestigious football institutions in the world. It was more than a dream come true; it was a validation of all the hard work, all the sacrifices, and all the moments of doubt you had overcome.
As you stood there, beaming with pride, she felt a rush of emotions – pride, joy, and an overwhelming sense of love. This wasn’t just about football; this was about you stepping into a world that would shape your future. And it wasn’t just you – both of you were going to be a part of this journey. The Putellas sisters, together, taking on Barcelona one football game at a time. The thought of the two of you, side by side, wearing the Blaugrana that meant so much to both of you, filled her with an unshakable sense of pride.
But that was just the beginning.
You were sixteen when the next milestone came, a moment that felt like a leap forward in your already impressive journey. You were asked to join the First Team for training. The First Team – the very thought of it was overwhelming. These were players you had idolised, professionals whose skills you had studied and admired. Your sister and all her friends. And now, at just sixteen, you were being invited to train alongside them, to learn from them, to be a part of the team you had dreamed of since you were a little girl kicking a ball around in the backyard.
She remembered how nervous you were that day, how you had paced around the house, trying to hide the anxiety that had crept up alongside your excitement. But she knew you better than anyone, and she could see it in your eyes—the mix of fear and determination that drove you. You were stepping into a new world, one where the stakes were higher, the expectations greater. But she also knew that if anyone was ready for this challenge, it was you.
Then, at seventeen, the dream became even more real. You signed your official first-team contract, a moment that felt both surreal and inevitable. She could still picture the moment when you put pen to paper, your hands steady despite the weight of the moment. This was what you had worked for, what you had sacrificed so much for. It was a culmination of years of dedication, of early mornings and late nights, of triumphs and setbacks. And as you looked up at her, holding that contract in your hands, she saw the same determination in your eyes that had always been there, but now there was something more – confidence, pride, and the knowledge that this was only the beginning.
Mapi also prides herself on her memories. While she might not hold onto every detail with the same intensity as Alexia, she has a knack for remembering the important things, the moments that matter most. And among those cherished memories, the first time she met you stands out vividly, a snapshot in time that she can recall with remarkable clarity.
You were eleven, full of youthful energy and wide-eyed excitement, attending one of Alexia's international matches. It was a big day for your sister, but it was just as important for you. You had always looked up to Alexia, admiring her talent and determination, and now you were there to witness her shine on an international stage, surrounded by the vibrant atmosphere of the stadium.
Mapi remembers seeing you for the first time as you stood by your Mami in the crowd, almost bouncing on your toes with anticipation. Your Mami was talking to someone behind you – another mother of one of the players probably. But your eyes were glued to the pitch. Even at that young age, there was something about you that caught her attention. Maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled with excitement, or the way you clung to every word and action as if trying to absorb everything at once. Or perhaps it was the unmistakable resemblance to Alexia, not just in your features but in the determination and passion that radiated from you. There was a quiet intensity in your gaze, a seriousness beyond your years, as if you understood the gravity of the moment.
As the match played on, Mapi found herself glancing over at you more than once. She was struck by how engaged you were, how you seemed to be analysing every play, every movement on the field, as if you were learning from it, storing it away for future use. It wasn’t just a game to you; it was a lesson, an opportunity to understand what it took to play at the highest level. And even though you were just a kid, Mapi could see that same spark in you that had driven Alexia to greatness.
After the match, when the excitement had calmed down and the players were mingling with friends and family, Mapi finally had the chance to meet you. She remembers how you were practically glowing with pride as you stood beside your sister, your eyes wide with admiration, her name emblazoned across your back. When Alexia introduced you, Mapi couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked up at her, a mix of shyness and awe in your expression. You were polite, a little reserved, but there was no mistaking the respect and admiration you held for her as one of your sister's teammates.
That first meeting was brief, just a few words exchanged, but it left a lasting impression on Mapi. She saw the potential in you, the same drive that had made Alexia a star. There was no doubt in her mind that you were destined for something great, that you would follow in your sister’s footsteps and make your own mark in the world of football. Even then, at just eleven years old, it was clear that you had the heart of a champion.
She also remembered the shy, yet quietly determined 16-year-old who showed up to training for the first time. You had arrived at the training grounds with an air of nervous excitement. You kept glancing across to Alexia, like a child looking back to their mother, for reassurance and support.
The first thing Mapi noticed was your outfit – specifically, the training top you were wearing. It was unmistakably Alexia’s, and it was about three sizes too big for you. The sleeves fell well past your elbows, and the hem completely covered your shorts, but there was something endearing about the way you wore it. It was as if you were carrying a piece of your sister’s legacy with you, a tangible connection to the one who had inspired you to reach this point. It spoke of the bond between you and Alexia, a silent acknowledgment of the footsteps you were following.
Despite the oversized top and the nerves that were probably churning in your stomach, there was a quiet determination in your eyes. Mapi could see it the moment you stepped onto the pitch – a hair tie securing the loose fabric behind you – your focus laser-sharp, your mind set on one thing: proving yourself. There was no hesitation in your movements, no sign of the intimidation that so often accompanies a young player stepping into a world filled with seasoned professionals. You might have been shy off the field, but on it, you were something else entirely.
As the drills began, it quickly became apparent that you were no ordinary 16-year-old. The way you passed the ball, with skill and precision that belied your age, caught everyone’s attention. Each touch was deliberate, controlled, executed with an almost instinctual understanding of the game. Your technique was flawless, the kind that only comes from years of practice and a deep, innate love for the sport. Mapi watched as you moved through the drills with ease, your focus unbroken, your determination shining through with every pass, every turn, every sprint.
Mapi couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as she watched you. She had always known you had talent, but seeing you in action, seeing the way you handled yourself on the pitch, was something else entirely. You weren’t just Alexia’s little sister anymore; you were a force in your own right, a player who was ready to carve out her own path, to make her own name in the world of football.
That first day of training was a glimpse into your future, a future that was clearly bright and full of promise. Mapi knew, as did everyone who watched you that day, that you were destined for greatness. You had the skill, the determination, and the heart of a champion. And even in that oversized training top, you stood tall, a young player on the brink of something extraordinary.
You stood behind your sister in the tunnel. the familiar hum of the stadium echoing around you, the distant roar of the crowd growing louder with each passing second. It was a ritual at this point—Alexia, Cata, you. The three of you always lined up in that order, a reassuring familiarity that helped ease the anxiety before every match. The tunnel was a place of anticipation, where the nerves were almost palpable, but this small routine gave you a sense of calm, a reminder that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
As you stood there, your heart thumping with adrenaline, you glanced down at the back of your shirt. Alexia’s name, which had once been proudly emblazoned there during your younger years, was now replaced with your own. It was a symbol of how far you’d come, a marker of your journey from being the little sister who idolised her sibling to becoming a player in your own right. Seeing your name, bold and unmistakable, brought a swell of pride. It was a reminder of the hard work, the sacrifices, and the countless hours of training that had brought you to this moment.
The tunnel, though dimly lit, was alive with energy. Your teammates around you were focused, their faces set with determination. You could hear the steady breathing of Cata in front of you, the way she subtly bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to charge onto the field. And just ahead of her was Alexia, your constant source of inspiration. Even without seeing her face, you could sense her confidence, her leadership. She was the captain, not just in title but in every action, every word. Knowing she was right there, just a step ahead, gave you the reassurance you needed.
It was a typical day in Barcelona—the sun was shining, casting a warm golden glow over everything, and the familiar smell of the sea lingered on the breeze. The city was alive with its usual rhythm, but for you, time seemed to slow as you stepped onto the pitch, crossing yourself in a ritual that had become second nature. Your movements were perfectly synchronised with Alexia’s, a mirror image of the routine you both had followed for years. It was more than just a habit; it was a connection, a shared moment of focus, reminding yourselves of who you were doing this for as the game began.
There had always been a running joke among your friends, family, and even the fans that you, Alexia, and Alba were practically identical – three sisters, a true copy and paste of your parents. From your mother’s eyes to your father’s smile, the resemblance was uncanny. Growing up, it was something you’d heard often, especially whenever the three of you were together. But now, as you stood on the pitch, it was even more apparent.
You had begun to shed the baby fat in your cheeks, your features sharpening into a striking reflection of your sister’s. Your jawline had become more defined, your cheekbones more pronounced, and the athletic build you had worked so hard to develop was now unmistakable. With every passing day, the similarities between you and Alexia grew more evident, not just in appearance but in the way you carried yourself – your poise, your determination, and your unyielding focus on the game.
It was at halftime when you started to feel a little funny, a subtle sensation that crept up on you without warning. You hadn’t really noticed anything was off until Jana, always quick with a joke, pointed it out. “Hey, you look like you just ran a marathon,” she teased, nudging you playfully. “Might need a change of shirt during the break, unless you’re trying to start a new trend.”
You laughed it off, brushing her comment aside with a grin. But as you walked off the pitch and toward the locker room, you couldn’t ignore the nagging discomfort that was beginning to settle in. Your shirt clung to your skin, drenched with sweat in a way that felt excessive, even for the intensity of the match. The usual rush of adrenaline that kept you focused seemed to be fading, replaced by a heavy, sluggish feeling that you couldn’t quite shake.
Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was buzzing with the usual energy. Teammates were talking strategy, rehydrating, and catching their breath, but you found yourself moving slower than usual, your head feeling slightly foggy. You tried to shake it off, chalking it up to nerves or maybe just the heat of the day, but there was a small voice in the back of your mind that told you something wasn’t quite right.
As you sat down on the bench, you reached for your water bottle, hoping that a good drink would clear the haze. The plastic felt cool against your palm, but your grip was looser than it should have been, as if your fingers weren’t quite responding the way you wanted them to. You took a long sip, letting the water flow down your throat, but it didn’t do much to shake the growing sense of unease that was settling in your chest.
Alexia, always in tune with your every move, noticed the slight frown on your face as you lowered the bottle. She had been watching you closely, her instincts kicking in the moment she saw the unusual look in your eyes. She knew you better than anyone—better than you sometimes knew yourself—and it didn’t take much for her to sense that something wasn’t right.
“Everything okay, Frijolita?” she asked, her voice soft, casual, but with that unmistakable undertone of concern. She wasn’t asking as your captain, with the authority and responsibility that title carried. No, this was your big sister speaking, the one who had looked out for you from the moment you were born, who had always been there to protect you, guide you, and make sure you were okay. The nickname, a tender reminder of your childhood, held a warmth that made you feel safe, even in moments like this when you didn’t feel quite yourself.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Malvavisco,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile that you hoped would reassure her. The nickname you used for her – a playful nod to her sweet and soft side, despite her tough exterior – was meant to lighten the mood, to show her that you were okay, that you could handle this. “Just a bit more tired than usual, I guess.”
But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they didn’t quite fit. “Tired” wasn’t the right description for what you were feeling. It was something deeper, more unsettling. There was a heaviness in your limbs that didn’t belong there, a dull ache that seemed to radiate from your muscles, as if they were protesting against some unseen force. And then there was that strange warmth, an unnatural heat that didn’t seem to come from the usual exertion of the game. It was like your body was trying to tell you something, sending signals that you didn’t fully understand yet.
Alexia didn’t miss a beat. “Mm hm, keep drinking, little and often, okay?” she said, her tone gentle but firm. It was clear she wasn’t entirely convinced by your reassurances, and she wasn’t about to let you brush this off. She knew you too well for that. Her words carried a quiet insistence, a way of saying that she was watching you, that she was here for you no matter what.
You nodded, taking another sip of water, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the unease that was gnawing at you. You wanted to push through it, to tell yourself that it was just a momentary blip, that you’d be fine once the second half started. But the truth was, you weren’t sure. The heaviness in your limbs, the trembling in your hands, the warmth that didn’t seem to belong—they were all telling you that this wasn’t something you could just ignore. You would get it checked after the match.
Alexia and Mapi both curse their memories now, those sharp, unforgiving recollections that refuse to fade with time. What once had been a source of pride – a keen sense of recall that allowed them to remember every crucial play, every victory, every shared moment of joy on and off the pitch – had turned into something they wished they could escape. Now, their memories played on a relentless loop, like an unwanted movie they couldn’t pause, rewind, or fast-forward through. It was always there, lurking in the quiet moments, ready to spring to life when they least expected it.
For Alexia, her memory was a double-edged sword. She had always relied on it to guide her through matches, to anticipate her opponent’s next move, to recall every piece of advice from her coaches. But now, it betrayed her, forcing her to relive that day over and over again. She could see it all so clearly – the way the sunlight had filtered through the stadium, the way your face had looked so determined, so focused. And then, the way it had changed, how you had suddenly seemed smaller, paler, as if the very life was draining out of you in front of her eyes. She cursed her memory for making her relive that moment when she first realised something was wrong, the gnawing sense of dread that had settled in her gut, the helplessness that had gripped her as she watched you struggle.
Mapi, too, was haunted by the vividness of her recollections. She had always prided herself on her ability to remember the important things – the strategies, the nuances of her teammates’ styles, the camaraderie they shared. But now, her memory was a tormentor, dragging her back to that moment when everything had shifted. She could still hear the way the crowd’s cheers had faded into a dull roar in her ears, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to the sight of you, struggling to stand, your hands trembling, your breath laboured. It was as if time had slowed, trapping her in that scene, unable to do anything but watch in horror.
They both cursed the vividness of those memories, the way they intruded on their thoughts without warning. It wasn’t just the images that haunted them – the sight of you unsteady on your feet, the trainer rushing to your side, the way the game had suddenly become unimportant in the face of what was happening – it was the emotions that came flooding back with them. The fear, the panic, the desperate hope that you would be okay, and the crushing reality that followed. Those feelings were as raw now as they were then, refusing to dull with time.
You dropped like a bag of bricks. Like a marionette with its strings cut. Like a stack of Jenga blocks being knocked to the ground. One moment you were standing, the next, you were a heap on the floor. You were lucky in some sense. You had no memory of that moment. You felt unwell, your heart was racing too fast, an uncomfortable pressure sitting on your chest. And then nothing. Blackness. Emptiness.
In that blackness, time seemed to lose its meaning. Seconds could have stretched into hours, or minutes might have slipped by in the blink of an eye. The blackness was absolute, a quiet, oppressive void that seemed to hold its breath along with you. It was an eerie calm; it was peaceful but unsettling. It shouldn’t be this calm. It was game day – game days were never this calm.
Outside of the blackness, it was anything but calm. Mapi had been the closest to you. She heard your sharp intake of breath. She had seen the way you crumpled like a house of cards. She tasted the iron in her mouth as she dropped beside you.
Mapi had never been more grateful for her memory in that moment. She hadn’t wanted to attend the optional first aid course that Barça was putting on for the players. Captain’s had to attend, she did not. It was Ingrid who had insisted, her rationale simple and persuasive: “It won’t do any harm to know first aid. You never know when it might come in handy.” At the time, Mapi had seen it as a minor inconvenience, a waste of a perfectly good free afternoon.
Are they responsive?: She gently shook your shoulder and called out softly, “Frijolita, can you hear me?” There was no response. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to remain calm.
Ear to their mouth and look at their chest – are they breathing?: Mapi leaned in closer, her ear near your mouth, her eyes fixed on your chest. She waited and waited. Nothing. No movement. Nothing on her cheek either.
Hands together in the middle of their chest – aim for between the nipples: She positioned her hands, interlocking her fingers and placing them on the centre of your chest, just above the lower half of your sternum.
Down at least 5cm and all the way up: With a deep breath, she began chest compressions, pressing down with firm, deliberate force. She counted each compression, focusing on the depth and rhythm, making sure to allow full recoil between compressions.
Up and down 30 times: Mapi kept a steady rhythm, performing the compressions at a rate of 100 to 120 per minute. She counted aloud, her voice steady despite her nerves, her focus entirely on the task.
Tilt the head back, pinch the nose, create an airtight seal with your mouth: After completing the cycle of compressions, Mapi tilted your head back slightly, pinched your nose shut, and positioned her mouth over yours, forming a tight seal.
Breathe twice: She administered two rescue breaths, each one deliberate and controlled, watching for any signs of chest rise. She repeated the process, her breaths firm but gentle.
Back to the chest: Returning to chest compressions, she resumed her rhythm, the pattern of her actions becoming a practiced dance of urgency and hope.
Staying Alive by the Bee Gees
Wannabe by the Spice Girls
Dancing Queen by ABBA
Respect by Aretha Franklin
Say So by Doja Cat
The SpongeBob Square Pants theme
Each song felt like a lifeline, a rhythmic mantra that guided her actions as she worked. The beats and lyrics looped in her head, a surreal juxtaposition to the gravity of the situation. Tears were streaming down her face and plopping onto your t-shirt.
With each compression, her resolve hardened. She pushed through the exhaustion and anxiety, her hands moving with determined precision. The repetition of her actions became a mantra, each push and breath a testament to her will to keep you safe. The songs in her head were a rhythm to her actions, a strange but effective way to keep her focus sharp and her movements steady.
The sounds of the stadium outside – the murmurs of the crowd, the collective gasp of concern – seemed muted, almost like they were a world away. Her world had narrowed to the urgent task of keeping you alive.
She couldn’t look up. Her body wouldn’t let her. She could hear Alexia. She could hear the sobs, raw and heart-wrenching, punctuated by the occasional choked sob or whispered plea. The sounds were a painful contrast to the clinical efficiency of the medics around her, their voices calm and professional as they continued their work.
Mapi’s vision was a blur, her gaze fixed on the ground, the grass beneath her scuffed and muddied. Her hands were still trembling, and the adrenaline that had fuelled her actions now seemed to drain away, leaving her feeling hollow and emotionally exhausted.
The medics had gently pulled her off you, their movements firm but compassionate. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, which had been a distant background noise, now seemed to echo in her ears with an almost rhythmic insistence. Beeps were good. Beeps meant there was a rhythm to trace. They were a lifeline
Ingrid’s hand appeared in front of her – a guiding light in the dimness of Mapi’s world. The familiar touch was a lifeline of its own, grounding her in a moment when everything felt as though it was spiralling out of control.
“María, min kjærlighet,” Ingrid’s voice was gentle, like talking to a wounded animal. The Norwegian words, though soothing and foreign, carried a warmth and familiarity that Mapi desperately needed. Ingrid’s presence was a comforting constant in the storm of emotions swirling around her.
Mapi looked up, her vision still blurred by tears and exhaustion. Ingrid’s face was a beacon of calm amid the chaos, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her fingers reaching out to grasp Ingrid’s hand, seeking solace in the shared strength of their bond.
“I… I didn’t know what to do,” Mapi whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought I was losing her.”
Ingrid squeezed her hand gently, her touch a reassuring anchor. “You did everything you could, María. You were incredible. They’ve got her now, and that’s what matters.”
Alexia had never felt fear quite like that. The pure, unadulterated terror that coursed through her veins was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was a raw, gnawing fear that twisted and turned inside her, threatening to overtake her entirely. She had seen her Papi die, felt the crushing weight of grief as it had changed their lives forever. The memories of that loss were seared into her heart, an enduring ache she carried with her. Now, faced with the possibility of losing you, the fear was even more intense.
The stadium, usually a place of joy and celebration, had become an arena of anguish. The sound of the crowd had faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the frantic shuffling of medical staff and the stifling, heavy silence of the waiting room. Alexia’s heart pounded in her chest; each beat a reminder of how quickly everything could be taken away
She paced back and forth, the hard tile of the hospital floor cold beneath her feet. The familiar surroundings of the waiting area – chairs arranged neatly, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead – were now a blur of sterile emptiness. She barely registered the passing time, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of memories and fears.
She was glad though, that this was a home game. The first one after the Christmas holidays. Your Mami and Alba were in the crowd. She couldn’t imagine having to make that phone call.
“Ale, mija, come sit.” Eli’s voice was rough with suppressed tears.
She moved robotically, dropping heavily onto the open chair and letting her head rest on her mother’s shoulder – mirroring Alba on the other side.
Her mind danced with memories. Your first proper laugh, a bubbly, infectious sound that had filled the room with a joy so pure it was impossible not to smile. She could still picture the way your eyes had sparkled with delight, a tiny beacon of happiness that had made her heart swell with love. She squeezed you a little tighter as she rested on the couch, your back propped against her thighs as she tickled your tummy.
Your first steps, a wobbly but determined series of movements that had marked the beginning of your journey toward independence. Alexia remembered how she had clapped and cheered, her heart swelling with pride as you took those tentative steps towards her, each one a testament to your growing strength and confidence.
Your first birthday had been a celebration of milestones and new beginnings. The cake, with its bright, colourful frosting, had been a highlight of the day. The way you had looked at the cake, your tiny hands reaching out with curiosity and delight, was a moment she treasured before you stuck a sticky, messy fistful towards her as she sat in a seat next to you. The room had been filled with laughter, presents, and the warmth of family gathered to celebrate your first year of life.
She couldn’t do this without you. The very thought of continuing without your presence was unbearable. She would retire, leave behind the game she had devoted her life to. The idea of walking away from everything she had worked for, of going into hiding and never showing her face again, seemed like a small price to pay if it meant keeping you by her side.
As she sat there, the weight of the situation pressing down on her, she didn’t notice the tears trailing steadily down her cheeks. They fell in silent tracks. Her hands trembled slightly, the fingers gripping the edge of her chair as if they could somehow anchor her to reality.
The room was filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the occasional footsteps of hospital staff and the muffled conversations of other waiting families. It was a surreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere, where time seemed to stretch endlessly. Alexia's eyes remained fixed on the door leading to the treatment area, her gaze unwavering as if willing it to open with news of recovery.
“Putellas Segura?” a young man—barely twenty-five with slight stubble and unkempt hair—appeared in front of them. His face was tense, a mixture of youthful anxiety and professional seriousness.
“Sí, sí.” Eli’s voice was a desperate whisper, her eyes searching his face for any sign of good news. She rose from her seat, her heart pounding, her breath shallow.
The young man glanced around the waiting area, his gaze landing on Alexia. “I’m Dr. Ruiz, one of the attending physicians. I have an update.”
Alexia’s heart leaped into her throat, and she squeezed her mother’s hand for support. The tension in the room seemed to coalesce around Dr. Ruiz, his presence a focal point of hope and fear.
“Is she…?” Alexia started, her voice trembling with the weight of the question she needed answered.
Dr. Ruiz took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly as he continued. “She’s stable now. We’ve managed to get her heart rate under control, and she’s responsive. We’re continuing to monitor her closely, but for the moment, she’s out of immediate danger.”
Relief washed over Alexia like a tide, the knot of worry in her chest beginning to unravel. Her knees felt weak, and she leaned heavily back on her chair The room’s oppressive silence seemed to lift, replaced by a collective exhale of relief.
“Can we see her?” Eli’s voice cut through the stillness, urgent and pleading.
Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Yes, you can. I’ll take you to her. She’s in recovery now, and we’ll need to keep monitoring her, but you can see her for a few minutes. Follow me, please.”
The room was dimly lit, with the soft beeping of medical equipment providing a steady, comforting rhythm. Alexia stepped inside, her heart in her throat as she finally saw you lying in the hospital bed.
You were pale but alive, your chest rising and falling with each breath. The sight of you – though still connected to various monitors and IV drips – was a balm to Alexia’s frayed nerves. She approached the bedside, her steps tentative but determined.
“Frijolita,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She reached out to gently take your hand, her tears falling freely now. The sight of you, still and vulnerable, made her heart ache. But seeing you breathing, with the beeping of the monitor steady and rhythmic, filled her with a profound sense of relief.
Mapi and Ingrid stood nearby, their faces reflecting the same mixture of concern and hope. Ingrid’s eyes were wet with tears, and she looked at Alexia with a look of shared gratitude.
Dr. Ruiz cleared his throat softly, drawing Alexia’s attention back to him. “She’s been through a lot, and we’ll need to monitor her closely for the next few hours. But the immediate danger has passed, and she’s responding well.”
Alexia nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from you. She gently squeezed your hand, whispering softly, “You’re going to be okay. We’re all here for you. We’ll get through this together.”
I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3
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arminsumi · 11 months
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SANCTUARY
💗 GOJO さとる
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warnings : angst, some fluff (?), satoru is such an asshole on the exterior 🥹, not proofread
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the strongest... falling in love with the weakest. he's bullied n teased u about being the weakest, a weakling; "how did they let someone like you into jujutsu tech?"
he's so mean and condescending. he trails alongside u on missions. he asks "hey, bet you missed me" when he intrudes on missions that you very nearly had under control. he watches you from the bleachers as you hopelessly practice martial arts with suguru. he steals your quiz papers when the teacher isn't looking.
but of course... he has ulterior motives. his exterior is just a big act, he's really just a teenager who belongs in the drama club.
he's sticking to ur side during missions to protect ur "stupid weak ass". he's always popping his face into a scene to make sure that curse doesn't escape, cuz otherwise he has to listen to you getting another reprimanding from yaga. satoru's the one who asked suguru to teach you martial arts every day, encouraging his best friend to grill the movements into your brain. and he steals your quiz papers to quickly rub out all the wrong answers you filled in, and correct them so that tomorrow you're met with a baffling A* grade.
he's doing everything he can to keep you from being expelled.
yet he stands in front of you, hands lazing in his pockets, taunting you about being a shorty who can't fight for shit. "you're one of those fucking weaklings i have to protect..." he says bitterly, through gritted teeth... but he doesn't mean it how you interpret it. he's so upset with the world, and how he has to work hard to protect someone who deserves to be born into an idyllic paradise.
when you're making that defeated frown, looking helpless on the floor after losing to a curse, he glares over and yells "what are you doing... get up." and he forces you to get on your feet.
he's confusing, isn't he? how he tells you in the school corridors on hot summer days, "you're too weak to fight for yourself." and then when you're unconscious after encountering a special-grade, he clutches your body protectively and sobs, "are you crazy? why wouldn't you call me... hey, keep your eyes open..." he's furrowing his brows at you, expression angry not because you're weak... but because this world treats frail people terribly and he hates it with all his soul. he doesn't want to see you fighting. he doesn't want to see you practicing jujutsu. he doesn't want you to ever see another curse's morbid face again.
he's determined to turn the world into a sanctuary for you. that's what he puts in his wedding vows to you, when the two of you reach the age of 25. and he doesn't break it, he doesn't falter, he always keeps good pace and drains and exhausts himself in order to mold the shape of the world to fit someone as soft as you.
"i can't believe something as soft as you was given to me from such a hard world."
i'm gonna make it better, baby. i'm gonna build a new world for you. one that doesn't try to hurt us. until i can achieve that goal, i hope my embrace can act as your sanctuary.
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 5 months
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❤ Yandere Lawyer ❤
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▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Obsession; Misogyny; slight Power Abuse.
This idea credit goes to @d-lioncourt cause she's the one that motivated me for this idea. Hope you like this :)
--
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who works in the top law firm of the country. He’s cold, determinate and calculative. Always thinking 10 steps ahead of everyone, carefully considering all possibilities and creating extensive back-up plans. 
His job relies on his capacities and he always aims for the top. If he’s not recognized as the best lawyer available, then he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing so far. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who doesn't care about how things are done as long as he wins the case in the end. Who said lawyers are saints?
He may be an advocate of the law but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t bend it to his will, finding sneaky gaps to reach his goal: win. 
Isn’t that what makes him such a requested lawyer? Isn’t that what causes every big corporate company to try to sign him up, to offer several millions for him to represent them in court? Because everyone knows that he wins.
No matter what happens during the trials or how badly the opposite side tries, he wins. It’s an irrefutable truth and anyone that tries to contradict it is a complete and utter fool. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who is upset enough when he’s informed that he’s gonna have to take a Pro Bono case for a random civilian. It’s frustrating to spend his precious time and expensive resources on a worthless someone.
It’s stupid and he'd immediately refuse it if it wasn’t for the strict order he receives from the higher ups.  
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who rattles you up, insisting on long sessions so he can know your side of the story.
His questions feel like accusations and you hate spending long hours answering him. Makes you feel like you’ve actually committed a crime of sorts when the reality is none of that. 
He knows you’re bothered by the way he pays attention to each of your words, taking mental notes of every minuscule detail so he can bring it up later.
He’s highly aware of how unnerving he can get and it’s fun to see you get so quiet and shy over it. 
He loves it when people get intimidated by him and it’s particularly pleasant when a pretty thing like yourself gets too timid to spare him a few words. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who drags the case much longer than it needs to. He could definitely end it in a blink of eyes, it would be so easy for him. A piece of cake. 
But he doesn’t. 
It’s exciting to see you on court, a helpless expression covering your whole face and your eyes at the verge of tears as your future lays on his hands.  
So pathetically weak. You can’t even defend yourself, you need him to do that for you. To defend your honor, to protect you. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who makes sure you know that despite it being a Pro Bono case, you owe him. He wants you to know that he’s winning this case for you, wasting his valuable time just to save your pathetic ass from those embezzlement charges. 
That he’s the one saving you from going to prison - despite the very evident fact that you have such a weak personality that it’s practically impossible that you’d steal money from your boss. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who takes every chance to hurt your feelings with snide remarks.
You look prettier when you cry, something so enticing about those shiny diamond-like tears that glow in your eyes and the miserable way you furiously blink to keep them at bay - to which you fail. 
You’re crying because of him. That’s enough to make him buzz with a twisted sense of possession and control. He holds that much power over you. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer whose mind wanders over the tempting fantasies of returning home to you. You’d do a submissive girlfriend, he’s so sure of that. If he gave you a nasty slap and a few harsh words, you’d bend to his will so fast - like a obedient girlfriend should. 
It would be so easy to control your life.
Order you to move in with him. Command you to become his stay-at-home girlfriend. Push you to cut off friends and family until only he remains. 
Those misogynistic ideas keep him thinking about you longer than he should. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who isn’t afraid to act upon his wishes and so he does. After a triumphing win on court, he leaves.
Storms off without even looking at you and you don’t even have the chance to thank him, but you forget about that quickly. 
You have more pressing issues to focus on, such as rebuilding your life all again. Celebrate your win. Find a new job. Move on with your life the best as you can. 
Your peace lasts exactly one week. And then everything comes down in rubbles.
Because then he comes to retrieve his payment. 
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hanafubukki · 1 year
Text
Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic (after some time has passed that is) or can be read as a stand-alone.
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“Leave me alone human!”
“For someone who is chained to the ground and gravely injured, you’re pretty loud.”
“I’ll rip you from limb to limb.”
“Why don’t you get better first before we get there hmm?”
General Lilia Vanrouge screeched at you in the fae language, some of which you knew were curses. Ah yes, you can’t wait to make fun of your Lilia when you get back to your time. His cursing while playing video games had you easily recognizing some of them now.
Luckily for you and your ears, the General wore himself out. The wounds from the iron and those of the battles weakened him.
It didn’t help that he also had a fever as a result. You were put in this cell to help him recover. Humpty Dumpty- well, King Henrik, implied it was the least you could do.
A random human that was pick up by his men, who was using valuable resources that could go to his soldiers instead. Never mind the fact that you helped treat said soldiers and gather said resources.
The Knight of Dawn had clenched his fist, about to speak up on your behalf. But you simply grabbed his hand and shook your head. It wasn’t worth it. King Henrik would just make his life harder for talking back, and you didn’t want that. The Knight of Dawn dealt with enough, you didn’t want to add onto his troubles.
…But you also didn’t realize that meant staying locked up in this cell with General Lilia Vanrouge either.
The General wasn’t exactly happy when he first met you, and you couldn’t blame him. You just weren’t used to the open hatred from familiar eyes you would see everyday. Eyes that were always friendly to you, now burned you.
The first time you tried to provide him treatment, he had fought back until his wounds weakened him to an unconscious state. You had silently treated him then. Not a soul a witness to your tears.
As the weeks passed, the General gradually stopped fighting back, probably due to his weakening state…it didn’t shut his mouth though funny enough.
You were only let out for a change of clothes, a bath, a proper meal, and a bed to sleep in every few days. Even then, King Henrik made it seem as if that was too good for you.
You later found out it was due to the Knight of Dawn’s request that you were even allowed such accommodations. Your heart ached at the idea of what he must have gone through to get you this, as you knew King Henrik did not treat him well.
You breathed softly, you wished you could return home soon.
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You were dressing a wound on Lilia when you felt him stir.
“Melea…Le…B…”
You took a wet cloth and wiped his forehead.
He must be dreaming about his family.
You knew all would be well in the future, but that didn’t mean current events didn’t affect you.
It hurt you to see so many struggle in a useless war, due to greed from one man.
Lilia clutched at his stomach, his sharp claw like nails reopening the wounds you had painstakingly bandaged.
You quickly grabbed his hands and sucked in a breath of pain. His nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. His grip could break your bones to tiny, incomprehensible pieces, but you held on.
You knew he wanted to be free and return home, to protect his loved ones. You were determined to heal him for that very reason.
“Damn it Lilia Vanrouge! You will get through this! You have so much to look forward to. So many people who love you! Now, stop being a prick and let me go so I can treat you!”
Surprisingly, he let you go. You ignored your bleeding, aching hands in order to reseal his wound.
“…will you be in that future?”
You froze, turning and looking into feverish eyes.
“Yes.”
General Lilia Vanrouge fell into a deep sleep for the next 10 days.
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You were returning to Lilia’s cell when a knife was held to your neck.
“Human, where is the fae you captured?”
Ah, it seems rescue finally arrived for Lilia. It took them long enough.
You looked up into hardened, familiar eyes. Baul Zigvolt would have been a sight for sore eyes if he didn’t, you know, have a knife to your throat.
“I would gladly show you if you take that knife away.”
“You-”
“Besides, I was heading right in that direction. If you don’t want to be caught, you better hurry.”
You continued walking, listening to Baul grumble about frustrating humans. You couldn’t help the slight smile on your face as you remembered similar words said by his grandson.
You led Baul quickly and quietly to the cell that practically became a second home to you. No one in sight. You had noticed, unlike the men that the Knight of Dawn commanded, the men directly under King Henrik were…well, just like him: sleazy and lazy.
They let their guards down thinking The Right General of the Fae was too weak and couldn’t take any of them on. They even implied you were nothing but a sacrificial lamb should said Fae get angry, but of course, they would rescue you at a price.
It took you all you could not to spit in their faces or smash their heads on the wall. The self defense lessons Silver and Sebek taught you provided security that you would forever be grateful for.
It was due to this fatal thinking that Baul was able to infiltrate the base, as the men went to seek entertainment elsewhere.
When you arrived, you opened the cell door quietly so as to not hurt sensitive ears. The sun was high enough for the cell to be well lit.
You heard Baul hiss in anger before rushing to his general’s side. Lilia didn’t seem surprised to see him, telling you how he must have always known rescue would come for him.
“General!”
“Careful! You’ll-”
Baul recoiled from the burns the iron chains struck at him.
“I tried to warn you.” You shook your head. You sat next to Lilia, taking his hand in yours. From the corner of your eye, you could see Baul tense but Lilia motioned for him to remain calm.
You picked at the lock. Another thing to be thankful for, your lock picking skills, which you learned quickly from days you were locked outside of Ramshackle Dorm because Grim forgot the key or the door just wouldn’t open.
“You got it in one go this time.”
“I told you I had surprises up my sleeves. I just needed the right tools.”
“Hmm, so you say.”
Baul looked at both of you as if you both at grown two heads each. Lilia noticed his look and waved towards his feet. Where chains that should have been locked were open.
“Any longer, Baul, and I would have rescued myself.”
Baul stammered before apologizing. You turned away to hide your smile.
Within moments, the atmosphere changed. General Lilia Vanrouge had to escape and return to his men.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“You have to leave. You need to return to your troops."
Lilia clenched his jaw, looking at you. You couldn't return with him; you both knew that. It didn't stop him from trying, but you shook your head before he could even open his mouth.
"I can't go with you."
A human amongst the fae would not last long, at least not now. There was too much hatred.
You took the cuffs that had been his tormentor for so long and locked them around your hands. You chose to ignore the angry growl Lilia tried to hide at the sight of the cuffs now imprisoning you.
"I'll make it look like you escaped, now go."
"They'll hurt you."
You shook your head.
"The Knight of Dawn would never let that happen."
He knew you were right. The Knight of Dawn had visited several times, helping you treat his wounds and restrain him when the fever would have him lash out at you.
The Knight of Dawn had honor, as a fellow general and soldier, Lilia respected him for it. Lilia pulled one of his magic stones off his belt before offering it to you.
"Take this. Smash it to the ground if you need help, I'll find you."
You agreed and watched the two soldiers turn to leave. General Lilia Vanrouge hesitated before speaking, "You told me you would be in my future."
"I will be."
"You better keep that promise, YN."
"I will."
General Lilia Vanrouge and Baul Zigvolt vanished from your sight.
I'll see you both soon.
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Part 3 (each part takes place after some time has passed) or can be read as a stand-alone.
Author’s Notes: I can’t believe this became a 1.5k fic, the way this bat fae drives me crazy. 😂💞🌺
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wholoveseggs · 5 months
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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thedarkdisgrace · 6 months
Text
Random thread from twitter I made about Chuuya, who he is, with quotes from Storm Bringer:
“Don’t act like you’re the good guy here, Verlaine. Yeah, this researcher’s a piece of shit, but you’re the one who killed my friends.” Chuuya smacked himself in the chest. “I can feel their lives burning right here inside me and till those flames die down, I can’t just do whatever I want. I’m gonna do what I need to do. That’s who I am.”
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….
“The light in his eyes was determination. It was the powerful brilliance of humankind, something gained only through encounters and partings with other people.”
“You’ve been completely wrong from the very start,” Chuuya spat in disgust. “‘Being born was a mistake’? Sounds like the kind of garbage Dazai would spew, and no way in hell am I ever gonna think the way he does!”
Chuuya being brutally tortured by N only minutes before the above quotes take place but all he cares about is avenging his friends.
Chuuya doesn’t let Verlaine push his views onto him. Chuuya knows who he is & he’ll suffer anything to protect those he cares about & he believes people are *worth it all*.
Also Chuuya sacrificing his last chance to confirm he’s human (which we know he is human by the epilogue) to save the city without even giving it that much thought when even *Dazai* thought it was important to consider. Dazai was willing to sacrifice the city if Chuuya chose to find out if he’s human. But it took Chuuya less than 30 seconds to sacrifice his own wants to activate corruption for the first time & save the city.
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“Right as he had made his way down three steps, he heard a refreshing clank from behind. It sounded like someone had just leaped off a metal plank. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, he looked back in surprise. There was nobody on top of the platform anymore.
After staring in mute amazement for a brief moment, his lips eased into a smile.
‘Show-off.’ ”
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Chuuya also saved the city again in Dead Apple without any real guarantees (aside the skk soulmateism bond and mind reading) that Dazai wasn’t dead & would be able to nullify corruption. But he used corruption and fought that dragon without a second thought to save the city & Dazai yet again.
He’s also the one who saved the ADA initially from the Hunting Dogs (on orders of course but still) and is the only reason Dazai survived Meursault.
Chuuya will always suffer for & sacrifice himself for the people he cares about & the city he wants to protect.
That’s who he is & I love him for that intense passion, love & care. He deserves nothing less than the same care in return. I love Chuuya Nakahara
(Oh, friendly reminder Chuuya was 16 in Storm Bringer when he went through all that 🙃)
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luvvixu · 3 months
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mind over matter pt. 5
synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.
content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, mention of drugs, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk
a/n: I MISS Y'ALL MWAMWAMWA!! anw, here's a 4k wc for this update and for those who are wondering, "where tf is the special chapter for 'the end'?" and imma tell u...the file went corrupted for absolute no reason...and i have to rewrite the whole story bcoz of that...k bye im gonna kms (kidding) HUHUHUHUHUHU IM STILL CRYING ABOUT IT!
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previous / masterlist / next
it was late at night and you're exhausted but happy after your first visit with kazuki. currently, you're in a nice deep sleep back in your room and satoru is still wide awake as he watches you sleep.
his body was situated on the chair and he decided to remove his blindfold just to observe your peaceful sleeping face with the blue moonlight shining upon you. you're beautiful even if you're pale.
a silent deep sigh escalated on his lips, he was still stuck in his deep thoughts about you and your son. satoru couldn't erase your happy face and the sensation of kazuki's small fingertips away from his mind, it all felt so…surreal.
a ringtone exploded on his phone. upon seeing the name, he sucked up a breath and decided to go outside your room for a moment just to call the name on his phone.
“i told you to stop communicating with me anymore.” there's a hint of venom in his voice the moment the other line was picked up.
satoru only hears a slight shuffling but he knew she was there because he can also hear some shaky breaths. “yukie…please know that you and i are now over.”
yukie, not many people know this female since her rank was only at grade 3 but to satoru—she’s the third party, or in simplest words, his mistress. yukie michiga is a beautiful woman with a nice body and a head-turning face. her life was average since she didn't have enough strength yet to rise her rank and get more missions to gain salary but it was enough to sustain her family of six.
she also grew up in a well-oriented family. she was the oldest among her three other younger siblings and she's a very responsible daughter, sister, and as a sorcerer. everyone in her little village adores her and even supports her when she flies to kyoto just to become a sorcerer.
to say the best, she's a woman of all. yukie was beautiful, kind, dependent, and very hardworking.
she and satoru met during his mission when yukie was seen killing some lower grade curses to protect some civilians in an abandoned park. satoru was amazed by her braveness and determination to save those souls despite not being paid enough. but what caught his attention the most was her alluring figure and that angelic face card.
after finishing his mission, he approached the girl who immediately recognized him because of his reputable name. they both introduced their names and even went on a date to get to know each other. and that moment they knew, they were attracted to each other. she even couldn't believe that she was seeing the strongest sorcerer in this current generation.
however, yukie had soon found out that satoru has a wife after their fifth date when she saw a wedding photo on his phone and your contact number literally named ‘wife’. she may be attracted to the guy but she values her dignity and she respects you as a woman even though she hadn't even meet you properly.
despite being heartbroken, she confronted satoru about it and demanded they should stop seeing each other despite her growing love towards him, because yukie would rather be alone than to be hidden behind someone's husband. but satoru did not allow her because he's too caught up in a moment and he finds his needs on the girl.
after some crying and begging, yukie finds herself being ruled by love and lets herself stoop so low just to be with satoru. she was convinced by his charm and now she's so drunk in love. yukie already destroyed herself by having an affair with a married man, so her fighting him to be complete hers will no longer do damage for what's already done.
“let's just forget everything that happened between us.” now what? after what yukie had sacrificed for this affair, he's now letting her go?
a scoffing was received and then followed by a shaky chuckle. “that easily? you're letting me go that easily after you literally just devoted yourself to me two weeks ago?” yukie was trying her best not to snap yet, it's too early for that.
satoru ran a hand on his face. “i'm sorry, but this is not right anymore.”
“oh so you've just realized it just now? after what? after you've finally decided to be a oh-so-good husband and think that you could've fixed everything? you're making me cry by laughing.” the woman did not even realize that she was gripping her phone so hard that her knuckles turned white.
“just say what you want.”
“you. i want you, satoru. i couldn't bear the fact that you're just leaving me so easily after what you had promised me last year.”
“but yukie, you know i'm still married and—”
“then divorce her just like you said before!” tears started to pool on her eyes as yukie was getting and sounded more desperate to save her relationship with the man.
“...i can't,” satoru whispered quietly.
“why?! because you're becoming a coward of the higher up—”
”because i don't want to anymore! i am aware that i'm such a bad person to my wife and i cannot change the past anymore. but i'm very willing to change for the present and the future, just for the sake of my family.” his words cause her to feel like everything stops, that specifically includes her heavy and enraged breathing.
what did he just say? fucking ridiculous.
“look yukie, i'm so sorry for cutting you off like this and thank you for everything that you have done to me. but please, let's just end it here.” satoru continued.
on the other line, yukie was sitting on her bed with tears completely spilling down on her eyes and her emotions were overflowing. their memories together keeps on flooding in her mind as the female tries to collect herself so she could find a quick answer to save this illicit affair.
“satoru, you're such a fucking dick for playing with many women's heart just so you can satisfy yourself. and then what happened to us that you once played with? what happened to those who got us wrapped around your finger? fucking nothing! you left us all hanging!” her voice started from low and went up to loud. satoru would've never understood a woman's rage because their rages are a good disguise of just being angry.
if only he knew what the current scenario is playing in her head, it can make the strongest shiver.
“yukie…i'm sorry but it's not like that—”
“it is! and here i thought i was special among all of the women you slept with. i thought i could be a better partner for you. i even lowered my dignity just to be with a married person!” for once, she finally felt pity for what she had become. if she could ever face her former self, she would hug her tight and say, ‘there is no turning back’.
and that is the reason why she said, “take responsibility for this.”
“w-what?”
“i said take responsibility for this! you made me crazy over you and i cannot let you go! so be responsible and leave your wife—”
“no!” satoru could not help but to yell back. he wanted nothing in this relationship anymore. he swore to himself that he is going to try his best to fix this marriage and that starts with him and his mistress, yukie.
meanwhile, yukie could feel the churching effect of rage deep down on her stomach when she realized that he is serious about cutting her off. he finally decided to stop being a pathetic dickhead and started to devote himself into your circle.
“fine! if you don't want to, then i’ll make you.”
the strongest eyes widened as he could smell danger at her literal threat. he also felt like a cold water bucket being showered on his body when he thought of any unpleasant possibilities that she could execute on you and his child.
“o-oh no you're not.” he gritted his teeth.
yukie laughed crazily, her eyes twitching in the process. “i will. you made me like this, satoru. so face the consequences and be accountable for the person you've made me.”
“yukie—”
“i am going to be your karma and you cannot run away or hide from me. don't you ever try to run away because i’ll make sure of it.” with a final hostile, the woman ended the call, making satoru almost lose his sanity.
“yukie?! h-hello…?! yukie? fuck!”
satoru was on the verge of throwing his phone across the hallway. he felt enraged, scared, devastated, and all. he knew what are the capabilities of yukie—like he literally witness his mistress beat the shit out of that other woman he once mingle with before her just because she's getting jealous.
what more could she do to his wife…and worse, his child?!
his body almost launched itself on the nearest wall due to his knees feeling weak. satoru was not scared of what yukie had planned for himself because he could literally take her even in his sleep, yukie was practically defenseless against him. but if his family was involved? it's gonna be the literal end of him.
he's the superman and his family is the kryptonite—his weakness.
“fuck. what did i get myself into…” satoru hopelessly buried his face into his shaky hands. he's afraid that he had done another unforgivable sin that you would probably not be going to spare him anymore.
but, you wouldn't have done that if you didn't know. so, guess who needs to keep their mouth shut? everyone.
the night had passed and satoru didn't even sleep a single wink. his conversation with yukie just kept on ringing into his head and deprived him from the attention. like right now, you have been calling him three times in a row but he's too busy to look at an empty space below. you reach for his arm to give him a gentle shake. satoru could feel someone nudging him and he knew it was you.
“sorry, what were you saying again?” he sighs deeply before forcing himself to give you a not-so forced smile.
a worried frown appears in your face. “you should go back to the jujutsu high. you really need to rest, i’ll be fine in here.”
“i can still manage this. don't worry.” satoru assured you, and you didn't buy it of course. “i'm not asking you if you can or not. i just said you should head back at least for now.” you said.
“but—”
“satoru, don't be stubborn.” your expression becomes more serious, making satoru fall quietly because he knew that he would eventually listen to you.
“it has been three days since and you hadn't even met your students properly. just go, satoru. you can always come back here during your free time. kazuki and i can wait for you.” you added.
“a-are you sure?”
you nodded and just gave him an assuring pat on his arm. “very. now go and do your thing.”
satoru was left with no choice but to obey, in which he did. he also thinks that this could also be an appropriate moment to confront the threat, by the threat means, his mistress.
“i’ll just leave after lunch. i need to make sure you are well fed.”
“alright.”
the rest of the morning was normally fine. you've watched something on your phone to keep yourself entertained while satoru was dozing off in his seat. his head keeps on uncomfortably dropping, so you decide to offer him a space in your bed in which he hesitantly agrees after you've persuaded him enough.
and now, he's currently sleeping quietly beside you while you are seated and continue watching your show. you would also occasionally steal a glance at him because he's really odd today, like something was bothering him. you know it's not because he's lack of sleep, but it was something else and that itches you to ask him.
then lunch came. satoru was still sleeping so you took this cue to get food yourself by ordering some healthy options available on the app, and sooner, the food came just right by your doorstep. you thanked the delivery man who really made an effort to travel up until here to your room. so, you also give him a nice tip, in which he smiles happily in return.
stealing another peak at your sleeping husband, you've decided to quietly remove yourself from the bed just to prepare the food on the table.
meanwhile, satoru stirred up in his sleep after sensing a weight suddenly vanished from the comfort of the bed. slowly opening his blue powerful eyes, he saw you standing not so far away from the bed and was busy unboxing the ordered food.
he looked at the wall clock across the room and it showed its way past lunch. that alone made him jerk up his body because he slept and you had to do the food by yourself.
“you ordered some food?” you replied to him with a hum and continued doing your work.
“you should've woken me up.” satoru frowns but you just shrugged it off.
“it's okay. you were resting and you need it obviously. besides, the delivery man was very kind to deliver it here if you're worried about me moving too much.”
satoru let this one slide and sat on the bed as he watched you hand him his food as he eats on the bed while you take a seat and eat on the small table. even in different settings, you two still don't share a table for a meal together. it's not like it matters that much, but it finally bothers him.
“what are your plans this afternoon?” satoru asked you after he took a spoonful of bite.
“visit kazuki, of course.” you simply answered.
a little bit of awkward silence engulfed the two of you. satoru was finding a way to crack up a long conversation with you, while you're still itching to ask him a question about what's bothering him. but to clarify things up, you actually don't care about what could be the reason behind it. you're just bothered because he looks bothered and it's bothering you!
“do you want me to send shoko so you can keep company?”
you immediately shook your head at his suggestion. “no, no. shoko is a busy person and has a lot more important things to do. and besides, kazuki could keep me company. i also need to walk his birth papers as suggested by the doctor.”
“about that, do you want me to—”
“it’s okay, satoru. i can manage doing it alone.” you don't mean to sound like you're stripping his rights from your son, but you really wanted to do this on your own. the two of you are still working on an unspoken term and you don't want your broken marriage to affect your baby's pre-life even by the simple act.
actually, you've noticed to yourself that you're becoming a little too soft on satoru. so, you would always remind yourself about the things he had done but also to remind yourself to be less harsh towards the man because at the end of the day, you are forced to be the leading mature in this circle.
you had to subside some of your emotion now that a baby has entered the scene and you would give everything just to have kazuki a bestest life he could live in. and that includes swallowing your pride and being with satoru a little longer than what should have been expected.
“i have a small favor, by the way.” satoru perk up at your words.
“go on.” he said and paid utmost attention to you. you've rarely made a request to him so he needs to make sure he got everything covered.
“nanami…if you ever saw him, tell him to come and visit me.”
nanami?
satoru tries not to frown when you suddenly look for him. it's not like he feels weird or anything since you two are good old friends, but rather why you can't just text him. anyway, he didn't ask you and just kept your little favor in his mind.
“sure, i will.”
and with that, the whole lunch for the day comes to an end and satoru goes back to the jujutsu high and tries to do his usual teaching activities.
satoru did what you said, he told nanami to visit you but he disobeyed when you said to do his daily task as a teacher and a sorcerer. to clarify some things, he did meet up with his students but that's it. he didn't teach nor oversee them on their training. he just told them that principal yaga will continue to handle them for the meantime then flew off the scene.
and guess where he's off to? yeah, his mistress.
a harsh knock surfaced on the wood as satoru continues to call out a specific name who won't even show a sign of response. he knows yukie was there due to him being able to detect her cursed energy but she didn't even acknowledge his presence.
“yukie please, let's talk this out and stay away from my family.” he hates to do this but he implies a pleading and desperation in his voice just for the sake of avoiding the rotten aftermath.
on the other side, yukie was seated on her sofa while still pretending that the consistent knocking or visitor didn't even exist. she'll only entertain the man and let him in if he would approach her as the satoru gojo who she willing to throw her life away just to be with him, not satoru gojo who would throw her life away just to be with you.
“yukie, please…open this door. let me talk to you.” biting her lower lip in despair, yukie swore that she really tried her best to stay strong and wouldn't just crumble over the sound of a pleading man, but guess she just was just making a fool out of herself.
“fuck it.” with a one swore, the woman finally found herself opening the door and revealed the white haired man she's been dying to see. yukie couldn't contain herself anymore, so as soon as her eyes landed on her most prized possession, she pulled him into a messy kiss as she pulled him inside.
but to her melancholia, she was dumb to think that he's going to reply to her with the same passion and love over the kiss. satoru pulled her away from him and didn't even kiss her back!
something inside yukie cracked as she looked at satoru with a broken heart. tears are pooling on her eyes but satoru wouldn't even bat an eye on her now pleading figure.
from his point of view, satoru wiped his lips in disgust as he could smell and taste alcohol in her breath. she's clearly drunk and wasted but still in the right place to talk.
“is our conversation on the phone not enough? when are you going to plant it on your head that i'm not planning to let you go?” yukie whispers as she buries her face into his chest, hoping that he would at least soften his heart and come back to her.
“you have to, yukie. it's time for us to correct the mistakes we both made.” satoru wrapped his arms around her waist, maybe this would calm her down and the conversation would at least become less aggressive.
“your mistake, satoru, not mine.” satoru went silent and yukie knew she was right. she thinks it's only his fault that led her this way, it could've also been avoided when yukie once confronted satoru about you but he's too imbecile to see the aftermath. now look where we are, there's no turning back now.
“is your wife now aware of this, huh?” satoru shook his head, there's no way he's gonna let you know about this. his space in your heart is now barely surviving, he doesn't want to take the risk yet.
“just tell me, what do you want me to do so you can let me go?”
yukie smiled lovesick-ly. “nothing. i told you, i am going to make you mine, and i'm gonna show you how i'm gonna do it.”
shit. this is bad. i’m really doomed.
satoru shoved away with terror and anger in his blue hue orbs. “yukie, don't make me break the rules. you stay out of my family's life.” he pointed a finger towards the female.
clearly, she doesn't give a fuck.
then suddenly, yukie pulled him towards the couch and kissed him aggressively and against his will. satoru knew he would be dead, dead by his guilt that he kissed those lips that he swore he wouldn't touch again.
“yukie, stop—! mmph!” satoru, being literally the strongest, tried his best but it's too late. his eyes could see black spots dancing around his vision, but before it totally went dark, he saw a devilish smile on yukie’s face and then everything suddenly vanished.
turns out, when yukie pulled him into a second kiss, she forcefully put a pill of drug into his mouth and made him swallow unwillingly. satoru may be immune to dark curses but he's no exemption to curse of love.
satoru was unable to move, and yukie, she was smiling ever so widely with hearts in her eyes as she started lovingly at the love of her life.
“fuck, you belong to no one else but mine.”
yukie was overly and beyond happy, that's the fact. she finally has him in his arms, she's so proud that she got the literally the strongest in her embrace—what could possibly be wrong?
yukie michiga, the one who participated in adultery, was about to drag satoru gojo, the one who initiated adultery, while she laughed to herself as she thought about things on her bucket list when she finally made him hers.
but then suddenly, the front door blasted as debris and dust floated around the air and served as a blanket to the destroyer.
“what the fuck?!” yukie hugged satoru's unconscious body possessively while coughing due to the wall dust she's inhaling. she couldn't pinpoint who would do such a thing at her precious house because of the fog.
but when it lifted up, it revealed someone, the one who is the victim of adultery, along with somebody, the one who hates adultery. both were wearing the deadliest expression you could ever see, it is raging with anger, especially someone.
“yeah, what the fuck?!” someone mocked her little curse a while ago making yukie freeze in horror. she knows that person well—very, very well. who wouldn't know her when she's the reason why she keeps on hiding in the depths of their shadow.
yukie's wavering eyes met the other pair of eyes. it was sharp, filled with dagger—those eyes were skinning her alive.
“what the fuck are you doing to my husband, yukie michiga?”
PLS READ THIS, THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT AND IS PART OF THE MIND OVER MATTER
[part 6 will be posted soon — ©luvvixu2024]
taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @aish777 @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @labelt-san @shinruo @testrella @sad-darksoul @kurookinnie @mountvesuvu @chwesuh-imnida @cole-silas @elernity @maddie-jayne @yozora7154 @kawaiivillainess98 @forourpoets @aishies-stuff @numblytemporary @souyasplushie @catarinemirandax @aerithsthingss @h1gh4ru @ssetsuka @jskodn @khoiyyu @the2ndl @vebbiewuzhere @kouyoumarryme @dreamyescapesfromreality @local-mr-frog @haesify @blkmystery @babybarbs12 @bleppt @leavem3alon3 @arminloverlol @megumisthirdog @shirabane @sheismaryy @tragicgirl444 @vampsins @miizuzu @kurobo @anxious-chick @p1nkliquor @mshitachin @chxvr @lolsasuke @username23345 @neteyxms @lvstru @roscpctals99 @buttermilktea99 @berevenstarzetaestelar @jiupark @hotsauce247 @veryverysadauthor @skepticalleo @openthenyoor01 @slowlyshycomputer @thickemadame @yaninnaacu @foggypostshark @redbirdeagle @lemonintrovert01 @michelleeveline @anniegojo @spencerrxids
a/n: can y'all still keep up with the plot? ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months
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Various HH characters x autistic!reader
Prize 1/5 for @coldsushisworld ! I hope you enjoy!
This post includes: charlie, vaggie, alastor, Lucifer, adam, and lute
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CHARLIE
Honestly I can see Charlie herself being somewhere on the spectrum! So she can relate to you in some way when you're having some struggles. Shes so so accommodating when it comes to your needs, quite literally bending over backwards to make sure the hotel is a safe space for you. Theres likely a sensory room somewhere in the hotel, where you (or really anyone!) Can go to unwind and just vibe. Protective of you, as she is with everyone else she cares about. You.. may have to get her to cool it if things get a little too heated. Warm and smells like apple pie, and I dont know about you guys but that's possibly one of the most pleasing and calming combos
VAGGIE
Very quick to shut things down if someone tries to get on your case for your needs for whatever reason, same goes for anyone who does it without intending to be harmful/doing it unknowingly. Shes your guard dog, and shes going to make sure you're safe mentally and physically. Likely stands trying to choose between different fidgets to pack for an outing trying to determine which one might come more in handy. Packs both. Actually she definitely has a pack somewhere for you that has a bunch of items to carry on you to help you out (water, headphones, ect ect). Despite that she does think you're capable and will step back if her worries cause her to overstep and make you feel bad. Vaggie does tend to have trouble gauging how much effort and feeling into things
ALASTOR
In the nicest way possible, he does not care. Obviously he doesn't care in the "I dont care that you're ND and I'm not going to avoid doing things that trigger you", it's a "I dont care because it is what it is", and besides hes got manners! Sometimes the static ambience around him can be comforting, like white noise.. sometimes he hums or softly plays music if you need something to focus on during an overwhelming moment. However if it makes things worse it's getting cut the second you say something. You're the only person allowed into his radio tower, if you need an escape
LUCIFER
As stated above I headcanon that Charlie is somewhere in the spectrum so he already has an idea of what to do to make things easier and more welcoming for you! Thankfully his home isnt too chaotic and he doesnt usually switch up his routine so if routines mean a lot for you Lucifer is your man! Puts his crafting skills to good use and makes you personalized fidget toys! He loves talking to you but if you need him to be quiet for a while he'll be understanding and work quietly on his ducks. Similarly to his daughter he doesnt let anyone try to make you feel bad for trying to tend to your needs. Though hes less of a pushover/holds his temper a little easier than charlie, but hes still quick to shut anything down
ADAM
In the beginning he can be a little.... how does one say this nicely? Not the best.. hes not at all educated so you're probably going to have to sit him down and find a way to get him to listen. Hes a little misguided when it comes to helping you moving forward but there is a new added effort in there. Takes you away from environments that are too overwhelming for you, or tells everyone to shut the hell up.. which might make things worse thanks to his shouting. He's got the spirit but his methods are not the best. His wings are soft and as long as you dont pluck anything out, he let's you run your fingers through his feathers. Would get sucked into those sensory and/or asmr videos with you
LUTE
I can see her being on the spectrum too tbh but I dont think shes aware, so anytime you try to bring up the possibility of her being ND she kind of just dismisses it. "Everyone does that," mindset. While she doesnt totally understand all of your habits and needs, she still does her best to make sure you're satisfied. She can be callous with others, often causing conflict to those who choose not to listen to an exterminator.. though to heavens citizens what status to exterminators have..? Shrugs. Shes a little.. tense? Harsh? No harsh sounds mean. Shes not used to being tender for someone else, so this is all a learning process for her.. its going to take a while before she grows accustomed to you autism or not.. but shes trying, because she does love you even if shes not used to these feelings!
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thewulf · 4 months
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A Realm Reborn || Eris Vanserra
Summary: Request - I know there aren’t many Eris fics out there, especially ones that dive deeper into his unexplored character, so I was wondering if you could write one? In my head, Eris is the same stoic, narcissistic male we meet in the books. His last dispute with the Night Court leave Rhys ordering Azriel to spy on him and his affairs... Read Rest Here
A/N: Sorry for the delay! My mom came into town this weekend so spent my time with her :) I LOVED WRITING THIS. Cheeky Rhys is my favorite and a different side to Eris is always welcomed. Thank you SO much for the request @talesofadragon
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Female Reader (Mate)
Word Count: 6.2k +
TW: Pregnant Mate, coup, coup success (no direct talk of actual death)
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In the dense shadows cast by the towering trees of the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra's thoughts were troubled. Despite his position as Beron's son, he found himself increasingly ensnared by the labyrinth of court politic. A dangerous game where your involvement could mean your undoing. As his feelings for you deepened so too did his fear for your safety.
It was during a whispered conversation that was hidden away in the less frequented corridors of his father's estate that Eris's resolve hardened. "The Autumn Court is no place for you," he told you. His voice a mix of determination and despair. "Not while it's a chessboard for power and you could become a pawn my love."
Eris knew that secrecy was your best shield. For that he turned to Thesan, the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Known for his benevolence and discrete nature Thesan was a stark contrast to Beron. Eris met with Thesan under the veil of night at a secluded crossroads where the borders of their realms brushed against each other.
Eris approached Thesan with a heavy heart. His steps echoing through the quiet, ornate halls of the Dawn Court. The tranquil beauty of his surroundings did little to soothe his frayed nerves. He had spent countless nights planning his approach, and now, standing before the High Lord of the Dawn Court his usual stoic mask softened revealing the urgency and desperation he felt.
"I come seeking your aid but not for myself. For someone very dear to me," Eris began. His voice trembling slightly despite his best efforts to remain composed. Thesan, who was ever observant, noted the uncharacteristic vulnerability in Eris's eyes and inclined his head signaling for him to continue.
Eris took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "The Autumn Court is a place of shadows and intrigue. A web of danger that ensnares even the most cautious as you know. My mate, she... she is from the Dawn Court and the light and peace here are what she needs to remain safe. Safe in her home. The Autumn Court's cruelty... it's no place for her especially now that she carries our child."
Thesan's eyes widened slightly at this revelation, but he remained silent allowing Eris to continue.
"I beg of you, Thesan," Eris nearly whispered as his voice was raw with emotion. "Grant her sanctuary here, within the safety and serenity of your court. Of her old home. I cannot bear the thought of her, or our unborn child being exposed to the darkness that pervades my father's realm. She needs a place where the shadows of the Autumn Court cannot reach. Where she can live without fear."
The plea in Eris's voice was palpable. Each word weighted with the love and desperation he felt. Thesan regarded him for a moment seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the genuine fear for his loved one's safety.
After a long pause Thesan nodded, his decision made. "The Dawn Court values peace and protection above all else. Your mate will find sanctuary here, Eris. She will be safe within our borders hidden from those who would seek to harm her."
Relief washed over Eris. His shoulders sagging slightly as the burden he had carried for so long began to lift. "Thank you," he breathed with his gratitude profound. "You have no idea what this means to me, to us."
Thesan offered a reassuring smile. "I do, Eris. Go with the knowledge that she will be well protected. And when the time comes I hope your court can find the light it so desperately needs." With a final nod Eris turned to leave, his heart lighter but his resolve stronger than ever. He would do everything in his power to ensure that you and your child would live in safety and peace as far away from the shadows of the Autumn Court as he could find.
Grateful for Thesan's understanding Eris arranged for your discreet relocation. Under the cover of darkness, you were spirited away to a hidden cottage deep within the Dawn Court's lush forests. It was a haven crafted from silence and secrecy surrounded by nature's untouched beauty where the only shadows were those cast by the leaves.
Eris visited as often as his duties allowed. Each departure from the Autumn Court a carefully orchestrated affair to avoid drawing attention. To the world he remained the calculating, distant son of Beron. But with you, he allowed his true self to surface—tender and fiercely protective.
"You must stay hidden, just a little longer," Eris would say during his visits. His hands cupping your face, eyes searching yours for any sign of weariness. "For now, this is where you are safest. One day I hope to bring you back with me. And not as a secret to be kept but as my queen to be celebrated."
In your hidden sanctuary under Thesan's subtle protection, you found a semblance of peace. The Dawn Court became your home again. A place where you could breathe away from the oppressive intrigues of the Autumn Court. Though your heart longed for the day you and Eris could be openly together you understood the necessity of the present shadows. Within them, you grew strong, waiting for the day the dawn could truly be yours.
You often linger in the quiet serenity of dawn's light patiently awaiting the gentle tap at your window that heralds his arrival. Eris, burdened with the obligations of being Beron’s son and a key figure in the Autumn Court manages to carve out stolen moments to visit you. Each time he appears there’s a softening in his eyes. A tenderness reserved just for you that no one back at his court ever gets to see. “I wish I could be here more,” he murmurs apologetically. His fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The touch contrasting starkly with his usual guarded nature. He repeats this apology with every visit, each word heavy with the longing for a simpler life one that was far removed from the intricate dances of court politics. You understand, of course. You always do. The stakes are high, and the secrecy of your relationship weighs heavily on both of your hearts.
Within the walls of the Autumn Court Eris embodies stoicism. His face is a mask of composure. His decisions and demeanor shaped by necessity and surveillance. Here, he is not just Beron's son but a pivotal player in the court's machinations. He was always under the watchful eyes of those who would see him falter. The warmth and smiles he shares with you are absent in his home instead replaced by the cold, calculating guise required of him.
Meanwhile, Rhysand senses an undercurrent of discrepancy in Eris’s pattern of behavior. Accustomed to the complexities of leadership and the personal sacrifices it demands Rhysand detects a shift that is hard to ignore. With a furrowed brow he calls upon Azriel, his master of spies. "Watch Eris closely," he instructs. His voice imbued with the gravity of his concern. "There’s a chance he’s entangled in something perilous. Or perhaps embroiled in a plot that could endanger us all."
Azriel nods, his presence already fading into the gathering shadows. Azriel was prepared to delve into the night. His task is to monitor Eris discreetly. To trace his secretive steps and to uncover any truths that might threaten the precarious balance between their realms. As Azriel disappears, a silent storm seems to brew on the horizon. The weight of potential betrayals and hidden agendas casting a long shadow over the Night Court.
Back in the secluded embrace of the Dawn Court where you await his next visit you remain blissfully unaware of the watchful eyes now turned towards your secret refuge. The moments you share with Eris are fleeting yet filled with an intensity that speaks of a profound connection, each whispered promise and shared dream a defiance of the roles and duties that seek to keep you apart.
As the Shadowsinger, Azriel had honed his skills to near perfection, blending seamlessly into the night as he monitored the borders of the Night Court. His task was to unravel the threads of a mystery that had intrigued Rhysand: the secretive movements of Eris Vanserra. Despite Azriel's expertise Eris had proven to be a challenging subject. He was lways cautious, always covered in a cloak of meticulous precision.
Night after night, Azriel's shadows whispered back fragments of routines, patterns that spoke of careful planning and discreet travels. Yet, nothing conclusive presented itself. No proof of wrongdoing or secret alliances—until that unexpected storm brewed over the Dawn Court.
Under the cover of an enveloping storm in the Dawn Court Eris Vanserra attempted to maneuver back to the Autumn Court with his usual stealth. The violent weather, however, disrupted his precise timings, extending his stay unexpectedly and playing havoc with his meticulously laid plans. This deviation caught the attention of Azriel who had been tracking the faintest traces of inconsistency in Eris’s movements for weeks.
That night as the storm raged Azriel’s shadows grew more potent, swirling with the tempest, mirroring the chaos of the natural world. They led him directly to a secluded path where Eris, cloaked against the elements and made his late departure from a hidden cottage tucked away in the lush foliage of the Dawn Court.
Azriel was drenched but determined. He confronted Eris on the storm-laden path. "Eris," Azriel called out sharply, his voice cutting through the howling wind, "the storm may shield you from others but not from the shadows."
Eris stopped, his silhouette tense. Azriel stepped forward as his presence was unmistakable. He was a shadow among shadows. "What secrets do you hide that necessitate such risks, even in such perilous weather?" Azriel demanded. This time his tone sharper, more pressing than before.
Seeing no immediate reply Azriel took a calculated step towards the cottage hinting at his intent to discover the truth himself. It was then that he saw it—fear, genuine and stark, flit across Eris’s features. A rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.
"Wait!" Eris’s voice broke through the storm immediately halting Azriel's advance. The urgency and fear in his tone were palpable. "There is someone... someone very important to me inside. It’s not just my safety at stake. I implore you, for their safety, let us not draw any unwanted attention here."
Azriel paused as he evaluated Eris's plea, the sincerity in his voice resonating even amidst the tumult of the storm. "Who are you protecting, Eris?" Azriel asked. His stance unyielding yet not advancing further.
With the storm as their only witness, Eris's resolve crumbled. "I am to be a father," he confessed. The words heavy with a mix of fear and protective fervor. "The mother of my child, my mate, she is there in the cottage. The Autumn Court is no place for her Not with the dangers and the dark games afoot."
Azriel's expression softened ever so slightly understanding the depth of Eris’s concern. "This is a matter for Rhysand. Secrets involving cross-court movements can endanger more than just your family," he insisted though his voice carried a note of empathy.
In the aftermath of the storm that had inadvertently revealed his secret, Eris found himself following Azriel through the winding, rain-slicked paths that led back to the Night Court. The journey was tense, filled with the unsaid words and unasked questions that hung heavily between them. Azriel led the way, his figure a dark blur against the storm-dampened landscape.
Upon their arrival Rhysand awaited them in his study. The room bathed in the soft glow of floating orbs that cast long shadows across his face. The High Lord of the Night Court regarded Eris with a mix of curiosity and sternness. His expression a masterful blend of intrigue and authority.
"Eris," Rhysand began. His voice smooth and deceptively light, "Azriel has been quite entertained tracking your nocturnal adventures. It’s not every day we catch a son of Autumn dancing with the dawn. So, tell me, what drives you to seek refuge in the light while your own court dwells in shadow?"
Eris with his usual composure battling with the raw urgency of his situation took a deep breath before speaking. "It's a matter of the heart and of life," he confessed. The gravity of his words reflecting the seriousness of his plight. "I have my mate in the Dawn Court. She is with child. The Autumn Court is a place of machinations and malice. No place to raise a family or to cherish life."
Rhysand leaned back in his chair. A slow smile spreading across his face, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of unfolding secrets. "A clandestine love and an unborn child," he mused. His tone both amused and considerate. "You do know how to weave a compelling tale, Eris. But such secrets could tip the scales of power. They need... managing."
Standing up, Rhysand circled his desk, coming to lean against it as he faced Eris squarely. "Here’s my offer—a bargain if you will. I ensure your family's safety. We will shield them from the shadows of your father’s reach. In return, you pledge your loyalty to me. Provide me with insight into Autumn, help me understand its inner workings. Together, we might just find a way to bring a little more light into your court."
Eris's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the proposal. "You're asking me to betray my court Rhysand."
Rhysand's grin widened with playful glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this far too much. "Not betrayal, Eris. Think of it as... strategic realignment. Besides, isn't it high time Autumn had a leader who values life and love over power and fear?"
Eris let out a short, humorless laugh. "You make it sound so noble, Rhysand. But we both know it's about leverage. You want eyes and ears in Autumn, and I need my family safe."
Rhysand shrugged, unfazed. "Call it what you like. Leverage, nobility, practicality. The fact remains that we both get what we need. And honestly Eris, who else are you going to trust with this? Beron? One of your brothers?"
Eris's gaze hardened. "Watch your tongue, Rhysand. My family may be fractured but they are still my blood."
Rhysand raised his hands in mock surrender. His smile never faltering. "Peace, Eris. I'm merely stating the obvious. Your loyalty to them is admirable but it's misplaced if it endangers your mate and child."
Eris felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him. The safety of his mate and future child was paramount and he knew this was the only way to secure it. With a heavy heart, he made his choice, knowing his true loyalty now lay with you and the life growing within you.
“You have a deal then Rhysand,” Eris agreed. His voice resolute yet tinged with regret. “I accept your bargain.”
Rhysand extended his hand with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Welcome to the family, Eris. Let’s hope this is the start of a fruitful partnership.”
Eris scoffed at the word "family," the irony not lost on him. "Family," he repeated, his tone filled with bitterness. This only drew a wider smile from Rhysand, who seemed to relish the complexity of the situation. Eris shook Rhysand’s hand firmly making sure to seal the pact with a mixture of determination and resignation. “Indeed. For both our sakes.”
Rhysand’s grin widened very pleased with the agreement. "Excellent," he replied, his tone rich with satisfaction. "I do enjoy a good bargain. Especially when it’s sealed under such... dramatic circumstances."
As Eris left the study the weight of the bargain settled around him. He was entwined now in the intricate dance of court politics in ways he had never anticipated. Yet, there was a flicker of hope. A chance that through this bargain his mate and child might live free from fear.
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In the serene twilight of the Dawn Court the air was filled with the gentle scent of blooming night flowers casting a tranquil spell over the hidden cottage that had become your sanctuary. Eris had arrived under the cover of dusk, his presence a comforting shadow in the doorway. His eyes looked for yours with a mixture of longing and solemnity.
As he stepped inside the softness in his gaze was solely for you. The harshness of his other life momentarily stripped away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His touch speaking of missed moments and cherished returns.
“You’re looking more beautiful every day,” Eris murmured with his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. His hand gently caressed your swollen belly. The life within a testament to your shared love hidden away from the world’s prying eyes. “Not long now,” he whispered. A trace of both excitement and anxiety threading his voice.
Eris knelt before you. His fingers tracing the curve of your belly with reverence. “Just hold on for a little longer, my love,” he said softly addressing both you and the unborn child. “The time is near, and soon, we won’t have to hide. Soon, I’ll bring you both into the light where you belong.”
He pressed his lips gently to your stomach. A silent promise passing from his lips to the child who stirred at his touch. “Your father is working on making the world a safer place for you,” he whispered as if he believed the baby could hear and understand. “A place where shadows turn into protection, not peril. Just a little longer.”
As the night deepened around you, Eris shared whispers of a plan—a strategic move that would change everything. “Rhysand and I, we’ve set things in motion,” he confided in you with his voice a low rumble filled with a blend of hope and determination. “It’s a risk, a great one, but it’s for us—for our family. For a future where our child can grow up without fear.”
In the quiet comfort of the cottage, as Eris shared the weight of his plans, you listened with a heart full of mixed emotions. Hope mingled with worry. When he finished speaking you pulled him closer, your hands framing his face gently guiding him to look directly into your eyes.
With the softest of touches, you pressed your lips to his. A kiss filled with all the love and reassurance you could muster. "Be careful, Eris," you whispered against his lips, the urgency of your plea softened by the affection in your voice. "Remember, you're not just fighting for the two of anymore. We need you, both your baby and me. We need you to come back to us."
Eris's eyes that were usually so fierce and determined softened under the sincerity of your words. He nodded as a vow passing between you two. "I will be careful," he promised, the steadiness in his voice aiming to soothe your fears. "I'll return to you, to both of you. That's a promise I intend to keep."
He held you a little longer. The silence around you blooming like the night flowers in the garden. It was a precious, fragile moment. One filled with the promise of futures both bright and uncertain.
With one last look, a lingering gaze that seemed to capture every facet of his love and commitment, Eris stepped back into the shadows of the night. Leaving behind the safety of the cottage for the dangers that awaited. You watched him disappear holding tightly to the promise sealed with a kiss. The belief in his return keeping your fears at bay as the dawn approached.
Eris's farewell to you was tender. It was filled with promises and reassurances whispered against the backdrop of a serene Dawn Court dawn. Yet, the moment he stepped out of the cottage and into the cool morning air, the weight of what was to come settled over him like armor. He glanced back once, locking away the image of you standing in the doorway. A silhouette of strength and grace against the soft morning light. With that final, poignant image etched in his heart he turned and disappeared into the forest where he was whisked away to the Night Court.
It was abrupt, he serene ambiance of the Dawn Court giving way to the charged atmosphere of the House of Wind. Under the shadow of the mountain and the watchful eyes of the stars, Rhysand and his Inner Circle were already assembled. The war room was alive with low conversations and the rustle of maps. Each member of the Inner Circle reviewing their roles one last time.
As Eris entered the room fell into a hushed anticipation. Rhysand looked up, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. "It's time," he simply stated acknowledging Eris's arrival as the final piece of their carefully laid plan clicking into place.
Eris nodded, the transition from loving partner to a leader poised to reclaim his court complete. He approached the table. His gaze sweeping over the maps and documents that laid out the coup in meticulous detail. His input had been critical in shaping the strategy, and now, as the dawn light began to spill over the horizon he prepared to lead the charge that would end Beron's reign.
"Let's go over this one last time," Eris said. His voice steady and commanding, drawing the group’s focus. The Inner Circle leaned in ready to absorb every last detail. In this room with these allies, Eris transformed from a partner worried for his family's safety into a general about to lead a battle for freedom and justice.
The plan was clear, each member’s role defined with precision. As they finalized their preparations the weight of responsibility was palpable but so was the sense of imminent change. They were not just planning a coup. They were setting the stage for a new era in the Autumn Court. An era that would begin as soon as Eris and his team stepped back through the portal, ready to act.
The coup unfolded with the silent ferocity of a shadow moving across a dimly lit room. Under the cloak of night, Eris, accompanied by a cadre of Night Court elites, maneuvered through the twisting corridors of the Autumn Court. Their steps were soundless. Their presence as spectral as the whispers of conspiracies that had long filled these halls. Azriel had masterfully neutralized the guards leaving Beron's defenses stripped away exposing him to the fate that awaited.
Beron, the once formidable High Lord of Autumn, was found alone in his private chambers. His usual contingent of protectors conspicuously absent thanks to Azriel. As Eris entered, the air tightened, charged with the imminent finality of what was to come. Beron turned, his face contorting with a complex mix of emotions—betrayal, fear, and a grudging acceptance of his grim fate.
"Eris," Beron began. His voice faltering under the weight of his son's cold gaze. "Is this how you claim your legacy? With treachery?"
Eris stood unwavering, his figure casting a long shadow that merged with the darkness of the room. "This isn't treachery, Father. This is justice," he replied. His voice resonating with a steely calm that belied the storm of emotions within. "For years your reign has sown fear and pain. Under your rule trust was a weakness and love a liability."
He stepped closer his eyes never leaving Beron's. "I learned from you all the ways a leader should not govern. You ruled with cruelty, believing it strength. You fostered suspicion and betrayal among your own people."
Beron's eyes that were once so commanding now flickered with the realization of his imminent demise. He tried to muster his usual authoritative tone, but it cracked, revealing his underlying despair. "You are my blood. Would you truly strike down your own father?"
Eris's expression hardened, any filial affection extinguished by years of cold indifference and calculated manipulation. "I am your son, but I am not you. I will not be a tyrant. I will be the leader that the Autumn Court deserves. One who rules with integrity, not through fear. I will undo the damage you've inflicted upon our realm."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Eris drew closer. His presence overwhelming the room. "You won't be remembered as a mighty ruler, only as a cautionary tale of the ruin that comes from such tyranny."
With that, Eris ended Beron's reign. Not with grandiose declarations or a spectacle, but in the quiet of the night. A swift and decisive action that mirrored his commitment to change. Beron slumped, a final sigh escaping him, a mixture of relief and resignation, as the terror of his own legacy finally caught up with him.
As Eris stood over his fallen father, the weight of his actions settled upon him. This was the first step toward a better future. A reign defined by compassion and fairness, the antithesis of everything Beron had stood for. In that profound and painful moment Eris vowed to reshape the Autumn Court into a place where fear no longer held sway.
It was declared the next morning that Beron had passed in his sleep. A peaceful end to a tumultuous reign that accepted without question by his brothers and even his mother who all were too aware of the need for change. The guards, their loyalty ensured through discreet negotiations by Cassian, upheld the narrative ensuring a seamless transition of power. It was either that or death.
Eris took the reins of leadership with a careful, watchful grace. The initial weeks were fraught with subtle maneuvers and delicate alliances. He addressed the Autumn Court not with grand declarations but with a quiet assertion of a new philosophy. One where fear and oppression had no place.
During this time Eris chose to keep you hidden a while longer in the Dawn Court ensuring that any remnants of his father's loyalists were fully pacified. That the court's stability was unquestionable. With the realm calm and the whispers of dissent fading into hopeful dialogues Eris finally felt the time was right to bring you home.
You were near the end of your pregnancy when Eris returned to you. His joy at seeing you so close to bringing their child into the world was mingled with a profound relief that he could now share his life openly with you. “The court is ready for you, my love,” Eris whispered as he knelt before you his hand gently caressing your belly. “And they will adore you as I do.”
With careful planning your arrival at the Autumn Court was orchestrated not as a mere introduction but as a celebration of the new life both in your womb and in the realm. When you finally appeared by Eris's side with his arm protectively around you, the court met you not with whispers of curiosity but with open arms and quiet respect.
Your presence at Eris’s side in the subsequent weeks, visibly pregnant and radiant, served as a powerful symbol of the new era in the Autumn Court. A time of transparency, renewal, and familial love. As you walked through the halls of the palace, those who met your gaze saw not just their future queen but as the hope for a new peace that Eris had promised.
With Eris's careful introduction of you to the court your grace and warmth quickly dispelled any lingering doubts. The both of you navigated this new chapter. Your partnership a public testament to the union of love and leadership that promised to guide the Autumn Court into a prosperous and open-hearted future.
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The early morning light filtered through the windows of the Autumn Court casting warm hues over the hall where a significant gathering was about to take place. The air buzzed with anticipation. Not just for the political ceremony but for the new life that had already sparked joy and hope throughout the court.
Only weeks earlier, in the quiet sanctity of the royal chambers, you had given birth to a baby boy. The event was celebrated quietly but joyously within the palace and news of the heir's arrival had already endeared the court to their new High Lord and his family even more.
The great hall of the Autumn Court buzzed with an electric anticipation. Its ancient stones echoing the soft murmurs of courtiers and the rustle of fine silks. High Lords from neighboring courts lined the room. Their expressions a mixture of curiosity and cautious respect, with Rhysand among them, his observant eyes missing nothing.
You stood beside Eris, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you held your son. The baby, swaddled snugly, peeked out with wide eyes. His tiny fingers clutching at the air. Eris, resplendent in the deep hues of autumn—gold and russet embroidered onto his ceremonial robes—looked every inch the leader reborn. He exuded a calm authority. His gestures tender yet assured as he adjusted the blanket around your son, his touch gentle yet firm.
As the moment for the ceremony approached the murmurs hushed to a reverent silence. The eldest of the courtiers, a venerable fae with silver hair flowing down his back, stepped forward. He carried the mantle of the High Lord. An ornate piece embroidered with the rich history of their people.
“Today, we witness the dawn of a new era," the elder announced. His voice resonating through the hall. "Here stands Eris Vanserra who has proven his mettle not just as a warrior but as a leader who values justice and the welfare of his people above all."
Turning to Eris he draped the mantle over his shoulders. "By the power of all and the traditions of our court and the approval of the High Lords here present, I declare you, Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court. May your reign bring peace and prosperity to our lands."
Rhysand’s gaze was steady on Eris with a small, knowing smile playing at his lips, signaling silent approval. As the mantle settled on Eris's shoulders the court erupted into applause. The sound thunderous in the enclosed space, relieved. The courtiers’ faces were alight with hope and respect. Their applause not just a formality but a heartfelt endorsement of their new leader.
Eris took a moment to let the weight of the mantle and the responsibility it symbolized sink in. Then, he turned to you and your son. His expression softening. He leaned in close, his words for you alone amidst the clamor, "We begin anew, for us and our son."
As the applause continued Eris addressed the assembly. His voice carrying the strength of his convictions. "I stand before you today, not as a ruler in isolation, but as one who seeks to lead through unity and understanding. Together we will rebuild what was lost and forge new paths toward a future filled with hope."
The promise of his words with the vision he shared, resonated deeply, not just within the walls of the great hall but through the heart of every fae present. As you looked up at him, your son cradled between you, the significance of this moment was not just in the crowning of a new High Lord but in the celebration of a family that would guide this transformation. Beneath the watchful eyes of allies and adversaries alike you stood ready to embark on this new journey. A journey that promised to reshape the world around you.
As Rhysand approached with a dignified yet warm presence, the hall's chatter faded, creating a private sphere around you, Eris, and the Night Court High Lord. Rhysand's eyes softened as he gazed at the child in your arms and his smile conveyed genuine respect and joy.
"Congratulations are certainly in order," he began. His voice gentle, addressing you directly with a warmth that felt personal and sincere. "Not only for the birth of your son but for being the cornerstone upon which a new Autumn has been reborn. Truly, a new era indeed."
You felt a flush of pride at his words recognizing the depth of the role you had played in the transformations not just within your family but across the court. "Thank you, Rhysand," you responded. Your voice steady and filled with gratitude. "It's been a journey of many challenges, but seeing the court unite and thrive under Eris's leadership. It’s a reward in itself. Our son will grow up in a realm that values peace and unity all thanks to the support from friends like you."
Rhysand nodded appreciatively at your acknowledgment before turning his attention to Eris. "Today, we celebrate not only the stability and peace that Lord Eris has brought to the Autumn Court," he continued. His voice echoing subtly through the now quieter hall. "We also mark the formal conclusion of our agreement. A pact sealed to protect and to rebuild. Seeing the prosperity it has brought here, I declare our mission accomplished."
Eris, standing tall and proud beside you, responded with a nod. His voice resonating with confidence and a touch of emotion. "The support of the Night Court was invaluable during these times of change. With our goals achieve we now stand together not just as allies but as friends in work. As High Lord of Autumn, I am committed to leading with transparency and integrity. The very same principles that this alliance has been built upon."
Eris then turned back to you. His expression gentler as he included you and your son in his gaze. "And none of this could have been possible without the strength and support of my family," he affirmed, his voice tender. "My mate and our son are the heart of all we strive for. The future we envision."
Rhysand's smile broadened. His eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and camaraderie. "The Autumn Court is indeed fortunate. To rise from shadows into such a promising dawn guided by such devoted hands," he commented. "Your son will grow up in a realm reborn. One that cherishes life and love. A true testament to both of you."
With a final nod of respect Rhysand allowed other courtiers to approach and offer their congratulations leaving you with the affirming knowledge of your family's central role in shaping a hopeful future for the Autumn Court.
The day moved into celebration. The halls of the Autumn Court ringing with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the days of Beron’s rule. As you mingled among your people Eris was always nearby. It was clear that the court was not just accepting but truly embracing this new chapter.
Your family stood later at the balcony overlooking the vibrant gardens. Your son nestled against you. Eris’s arm wrapped protectively around both of you. Below, the people of the Autumn Court looked up, their faces smiling, their cheers a promise of loyalty and hope. This was the future Eris had fought for. A legacy of love and peace for his son and it was just beginning.
As the celebrations dwindled into the soft hues of the evening, the Autumn Court, now steeped in the gentle sounds of peace and prosperity, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The corridors and gardens that were once the backdrop of clandestine plots and whispered fears now echoed with laughter and hopeful conversations.
Inside the royal quarters, Eris, you, and your son found solitude away from the remaining festivities. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun filtering through large windows and casting golden patterns on the floor. Eris stood by the window while holding your son gently in his arms, watching as his little eyes fluttered closed, succumbing to sleep after a day filled with new sensations.
Turning from the window Eris walked back to where you sat, a soft smile playing on his lips. He handed your son to you, and you cradled him close feeling the gentle rise and fall of his tiny chest. Eris sat beside you, his arm encircling your shoulders, drawing you both into his embrace.
"Today, I felt everything align my love," Eris whispered, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet room. "Seeing our people, hearing their hopes, and holding our son—I have never been more certain of our path."
You nodded, leaning into his side, your head resting against his shoulder. "It feels like we've finally stepped out of the shadows," you murmured back feeling the truth of your words resonate deep within.
Eris kissed the top of your head. His gaze lingering on the peaceful face of your son. "We did more than step out," he corrected softly, pride mingling with joy in his tone. "We dispelled them, together."
As twilight deepened, the three of you sat in silence. A family united not just by blood but by the shared trials that had tempered your spirits and bound your hearts. Outside, the last light of the day gave way to the first stars of night, a symbol of the enduring light you had brought to the Autumn Court.
Eris's earlier turmoil with the weight of leadership and legacy, seemed to dissolve instead replaced by a profound contentment. In this quiet room with his family, his court secure and thriving, he felt a happiness that was deep and genuine. A happiness that whispered of enduring peace and future filled with promise.
This moment, simple yet profound, was the true beginning for Eris, you, and your son. A beginning marked not by declarations and formalities but by quiet love and shared dreams under the watchful stars of the Autumn Court.
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animeyanderelover · 4 months
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Anon: Yandere Johnathan, Dio, Joseph, Caesar, Wammu, Jotaro, Josuke, Giorno and Jolyne Headcannons with a Female Tanjiro Reader? She’s kind, compassionate and fights to protect, save others and find a cure for her sister to turn her back into a human (She’s also a very hard working individual).
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, overprotective behavior, stalking, paranoia, manipulation, blackmail, guilt-tripping, gaslighting, isolation, abduction, death
To fit this theme better into the JoJo verse, darling’s sister is a vampire instead of a demon.
Tags: @simplydlightfuldestiny @flaming-vulpix
Darling is like Tanjiro
Jonathan Joestar
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💍Given your brave and kind personality, it is no wonder that Jonathan falls head over heels for you. Both of you fight side by side as his adopted brother Dio starts plotting his evil schemes with the new powers given to him by the stone mask. Your sister was one of the many victims that was turned by him yet somehow she retained her control and her heart as Dio didn't take over her mind. Despite Zeppeli's caution and advice that he should free your sister of her suffering, Jonathan is moved to tears as he witnesses the determination and love you have for your younger sister, solely led by his emotions as he offers to help you. After all your sister is very tame despite having been turned into a monster by Dio and hides during the day in a box you crafted for her. Both of you are trained together by Zeppeli in Hamon and join forces in order to put a stop to Dio's craving for power and to find a cure to turn your sister back into a normal human again.
💍​One would think that Jonathan should know best about your talents as he has trained together with you yet he falls fast and he falls fast, leaving him with the constant taste of fear and worry lingering on his mind and in his heart. Whenever a battle ensues, he always tries to shield you and to protect you out of fear that you might get hurt. Whenever he loses sight of you, his heart drops as paranoia quickly takes hold of him. He suffers the loss of his father and eventually the loss of Zeppeli and all of it only enforces his growing obsession as even his teacher ultimately dies, proving in his mind that even with all of your strength you can still fall during this battle. As someone who was raised to be nothing but a gentleman, it is his desire to cherish and to protect you yet he seems to overlook that his noble gestures to protect you are received as an insult from your side as you think that he is underestimating your strength. Whenever you confront him about it though, he shies away from the conflict, hating the thought of arguing with his sweetheart.
💍​Instead whenever conflict arises between you two, he tries to appease you in whatever way he can. At this point it is painfully obvious how he feels for you and Jonathan isn't even trying to hide it from you. He wants to treat you well and he does exactly that. In his mind fate must have brought you too together as both of you met, struck with tragedy inflicted upon the two of you by Dio. Sometimes his obsessive thoughts plague him and the shame comes crushing down on his heart yet more often he is prone to those delusional phases where he thinks of your meeting as destiny. The young Joestar heir has already plans to ask you for your hand in marriage as soon as both of you have won against Dio. He initially plans to ask you after peace has returned but depending on how paranoid and desperate he gets, he might even ask you beforehand if you'd do him the honor of letting him be your husband. He promises that he will worship you and do everything in his power to protect you and your sister.
Joseph Joestar
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🦾​Joseph, Caesar and you form a trio when the Pillar Men appear as you have your own motivation for fighting them. During the expedition that Speedwagon took due to the rumored existence of other Stone Masks your sister, who was part of the team that accompanied him, was transformed into a vampire and you reunite with her during your first encounter with Stroheim who kept her alongside with Speedwagon captive. You are quite different from Joseph who relies on his wits and runs away when he realises that his situation looks helpless whilst you always stand your ground to save even those who do not deserve it even if you are only inches away from death. Multiple times he has sworn to not help you if you were to get in another such tense situation yet he has never had the heart to abandon you, leaving him no choice but to return and trick his way somehow out of the danger. Joseph always wants to scold you after every stunt you pull yet you always thank him with such a sincere look on your face that he doesn't have the heart to do so.
🦾​You are sometimes really too good for your own good as well as his own good yet despite the differences between you two, Joseph finds himself growing very attached to you and he knows that. Although he tries to hide his growing feelings, to people like Caesar it is quite obvious that he has caught feelings for you. Whenever there is a fight, he seems much more willing to fight and show off somehow but only when you are watching. Not to mention that he has gotten more hostile towards Caesar as he knows that that man has to flirt with every young woman within his vicinity, including you. He comes up with the most random bullshit to annoy you two only to interfere as soon as he notices that Caesar tries to flirt with you or simply just makes soma gagging sounds to distract you from him. Caesar might as well see it as a challenge as he openly admits to Joseph that he doesn't think that he would make a good partner for you. From that day on Joseph comes up with the most ridiculous things to keep you occupied with him.
🦾​Whilst it may appear like a bit of a cheap method, the fact that Speedwagon is looking out for your sister whilst you are helping to hunt down the Pillar Men in search of a cure is something Joseph uses to his advantage. After all he is quite close with Speedwagon so he likes to brag about it if he gets the chance. Throughout the entire time you three spend together, he starts slowly resenting your determination to help others though. He wouldn't call himself inherently a bad guy but he is also not someone who would willingly risk his life for some random stranger. You are the complete opposite as you always want to save everyone, something that sometimes isn't possible. He doesn't want you to lay down your life for random people, as noble as some people may think that is. In his mind it is simply stupid so during fights he starts actively dragging you away when he realises that the threat is too much to handle. He wants to live and he wants you to live as well. It is as simple as that. You want to see your sister being turned back to a human again, right? You won't witness that if you're dead.
Caesar A. Zeppeli
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🫧​Lisa Lisa sends you as reinforcement during the earliest confrontation with the Pillar Men and whilst Joseph is initially gawking at you and wonders what you plan to add to the team, Caesar quickly shuts him up and apologises to you. Joseph truly has no manners when it comes to treating a pretty lady, plus he has utmost trust in his teacher so he has confidence in you. From the very beginning Caesar always favors you and treats you very well, although it is to be expected. As you join in the fights though and he gets to see just how much kindess and compassion you hold in your soul, his feelings deepen more and more. He truly admires your willpower and your determination to help people in need even if those people have threatened you before. Joseph, shrewd despite his sometimes stupid decisions, obviously notices the feelings of his rivals and starts teasing him about it. He goes too far when he tells you that Caesar catches feelings easily for women, something that almost ends in a fight between those two if it wouldn't have been for you stopping them.
🫧​His disdain for Joseph grows after that. How dare he even suggest to you that his feelings aren't sincere? Caesar urges you to not believe anything Joseph has told you as he swears to you that his feelings are sincere. When you three return to the island owed by Lisa Lisa, Caesar finds out about your sister that his teacher has kept safe during your absence. Initially he is very alerted as he doesn't trust your sister. She could pose a threat and harm you after all, even if she is also a lady. He knows that you would never let him harm her though as even Lisa Lisa assures him that she is different from the rest. After his wariness fades away, he can't help but wonder why you have never told him about her existence though. Do you not trust him? He immediately seeks you out to ask you about what has happened in your past and presses on even as you hesitate for a moment. When you eventually decide to tell him your tragic past, his heart starts bleeding for you. You poor thing have gone through so much...
🫧​After he has been entrusted with your path, he only starts feeling more protective about you. You are a woman too pure for everything you had to endure and it is your outstanding kindness that has him growing slowly more paranoid. He has seen terrible people in his life, people who would abuse your compassion and earnest desire to save others. He could never forgive someone if someone would stomp on your kindness and he could never forgive himself if he were to let anything happen to you. Caesar starts sticking close to you from that moment on, always paranoid when he isn't near you and can protect you. Obviously you address his smothering overprotective antics but you only get a lovesick smile in return and a kiss on your knuckles as he murmurs that he could never allow anything to harm you. In his eyes you deserve the world and nothing less after all the pain you had to go through and he intends to give the world to you. He is truly in love with you and in his eyes it is normal to protect the lady he plans to make his wife and spend his life with.
Wammu
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🌪️​You are there together with Joseph and Caesar when the Pillar Men awaken and even if Wammu is far above you when it comes to strength, you refuse to back down. Even if you stand no chance against him, you stand time and time up again and he can tell that you put your all into this battle. There is a drive behind your eyes, a determination that keeps you going even if you shouldn't be able to stand anymore. It is that fire in your eyes that has his heart skipping a few beats as he proudly proclaims you as someone truly brave and worthy and even expresses gratitude that he was able to meet someone like you as soon as he has awakened. He almost doesn't want to kill you and Joseph, who has caught wind of Wammu's fascination with you, uses that partially to convince Wammu to let him and the others live for now so that they can return stronger. Wammu takes the bait, especially because he is eager to see how much stronger you will be the next time he sees you. You have the potential and willpower after all.
🌪️​His thoughts always seem to be around you as he eagerly and almost impatiently waits for the time to come and Kars and Esidisi sense his troubled feelings. Kars just bluntly advises him to take you if he desires you but Wammu refuses to use such underhanded methods as he prides himself as a strong and honorable warrior. So he chooses to challenge you when you find your way to him again to save Caesar as the young man impulsively storms into their hideout. As soon as you see how heavily wounded Caesar is, you are instantly willing to sacrifice yourself to save him and that is when Wammu offers you a deal. If you duel him and win, he will not only let Caesar go but also give you the antidote in his lip ring, something Joseph needs if he wants to survive. If you lose, he is free to do what he wants with you. You take the offer without a doubt and put a magnificent battle, even if he ultimately bests you. Even as you are bleeding heavily, you refuse to give up though and out of respect he not only lets Caesar live but gives him the antidote but takes you with him as you still lost and you accept it without throwing a tantrum.
🌪️​He caters instantly to your wounds as soon as he has taken you with a gentleness you didn't expect from a Pillar Man. After he has bandaged all of your wounds he decides to ask you what it is that motivates you so greatly and why you were so determined to find his kind. Initially you look at him silently and just as he is about to assure you that you don't have to tell him, you decide to open up. You confess to him that your sister was turned into a vampire due to a Stone Mask and that you had heard that his kind had invented them and so you had hoped to find a cure for her. Hearing your motivation truly only manifests you as a noble and honorable human as a warm feeling of pride spreads in his chest. It is in that moment that he decides that he desires to have you as his partner, though he is aware that you two stay on different sides of this current battle. Yet he sincerely wishes to help you so he makes another suggestion. He will help you to heal your sister but in return he asks of you to stay by his side as his lover in the future and remain loyal to him and he promises in return to cherish and love you until the end of time.
Kujo Jotaro
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🚬​You join the crusaders during their long and difficult travels to reach Egypt and DIO somewhere along the way. Your first encounter with them almost ends in a big fight when your sister escapes during the night and crosses paths with Jotaro who initially mistakes her as another minion of DIO. You arrive just in time and throw yourself in front of her, fully prepared to take all of Star Platinum's punches to protect your little sibling only for his Stand to stop in the last second. When the rest of the group arrives, you find yourself able to explain the situation you are in and since you have the same goal as everyone, you decide to join them with your own respective Stand. Jotaro clarifies to you from the very beginning though that if your sister should ever turn attack them and let her instincts get the better of her, he will have to get rid of her. You manage to hold his stern gaze though and reassure him that it won't happen as your sister is different from the others.
🚬​As all of you continue their journey, Jotaro learns to value you as a member of the team. You are strong and even your sister joins the fights when there is no sunlight around. Although he will openly admit that your very idealistic goals to protect everyone are at times quite exhausting and both of you have gotten into a few fights already. Jotaro has less problems sacrificing a few people if it can't be helped and reprimands you for your silly daydreams that you will always be able to save everyone only for you to get mad at him and call him heartless in return. What you don't seem to realise is that Jotaro's harshness and rude words are born out of a growing worry he feels for you the longer you are part of the Crusaders. He won't grieve random people he couldn't save in time but you are no random stranger to him. You are someone he has learnt to value and respect and he won't just watch as you throw yourself in danger over and over again to save someone who doesn't deserve it as you even express kindness to their opponents, though only after they have been beaten.
🚬​The tension only grows the closer you get to your destination and the more you are put through. Jotaro's obsession at this point has already gotten to the point of no return and he knows that yet he hides it, clueless on how to even act on those feelings. Although they do slip out in the very unpleasant shape of growing oppression and control he starts to keep on you. He has had enough with your antics by now to the point where he even tries to remove you from the scene to prevent you from trying to play hero again. Star Platinum, his Stand, has started acting on Jotaro's obsession as well and shows the feelings the man is trying to suppress much more openly. If you are within vicinity, it will suddenly grab you and pull you instinctively closer to it, much to Jotaro's slight embarrassment as he doesn't plan to tell you of his feelings. You won't be involved in theit final battle, he already knows that you would end up sacrificing yourself for someone else. Don't worry though, he will keep his promise and find a cure for your sister. He isn't as heartless as you claim him to be after all.
DIO
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🕰️​He feels like he is seeing a ghost of someone in you he has despised so much to the point where he feels the need to eradicate even the ancestors of said person. That's right. There is a resemblance of Jonathan DIO sees in you and whether it is his own petty hatred or a dormant fear he holds against the only man who ever beat him, he perceives you as a threat. He wants you gone and all of his minions are begging him to let them take care of you yet you have caught his attention to the point where he wishes to take care of you himself. Yet one of his pawns would not listen to him and assaults you themselves nevertheless only to be beaten by you and your sister. DIO couldn't care less about their death but it is the report that a vampire fought by your side that catches his attention. He's the only one who creates vampires. How is it then that someone who should obey him is fighting side by side with you? It seems like he can't just simply kill you after all. Instead he orders his pawns to gather information about you and the vampire fighting by your side.
🕰️​It doesn't take long for his minions to find what he wants to know as they are more than eager to please him however they can. Apparently your sister was turned into a vampire by one of his pawns he can't even remember and you are searching for him to demand for a cure to turn your sister back into a human. That's his chance. DIO can barely suppress the diabolical grin on his face as he realises that he could probably break you by tormenting you by using your sister against you. If he can gain control over her and order her to attack you, he is sure that he can break you down. As soon as you reach his hideout, his minions ambush you and even though you put up a brave fight, ultimately you are captured. His presence frightens you, he can tell as much by the way your heart hammers inside your chest yet you refuse to let any of your fear show as you stare him right into his eyes as he gloats about your loss, already suggesting with an evil gron on his face what he plans to do now that he has you and your sister.
🕰️​Yet you are so stubborn and headstrong and so is your sister as he is unable to gain control of her nor can he break you. He has always taken what he has wanted yet strangely enough he doesn't find himself displeased. Instead he revels in your unwavering determination and your immunity to fall for his charm, something that has brought countless men and women to their knees. After all the harder something is to obtain, the sweeter the taste of victory will be. He finds himself desiring to break you and then to possess you and to achieve that, he commits truly horrible deeds all to trigger your mental breakdown. He may force himself sexually on your sister whilst forcing you to watch or the other way around, will blackmail and threaten you to expose your sister to the sunlight and so many other things that should tear you apart yet even through your greatest sorrow and grief, that spark in your eyes never disappears. It frightens him a bit, confuses him to why you don't give up. Why do you persist? Wouldn't it be easier for you to just drown in your misery? You really are special, aren't you?
Higashikata Josuke
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💎​Josuke is hotheaded and enjoying his life and his youth. He is quite passionate about showing his feelings which is why he has no real way to cover up his growing infatuation with you as he quickly descends down the stairs of obsession. Above all it is your kind and compassionate attitude that has won him over and he greatly admires you for the strong and forgiving person that you are. You even complimented his hair when you met for the first timw which only added fuel to the inferno. Due to his openess to express his feelings though, Josuke has no lid on his emotions which means that he has no real way to control him. He isn't even attempting to control them in the first place and this has led him to be quite volatile depending on how he feels. Whether he is euphoric or enraged, he will act on those emotions. His infatuation has made him quite clingy which is why he often follows you around and always desires to be with you as his mood is otherwise quite grumpy which means that he is quite easily angered.
💎​Okuyasu calls him one night and informs him that he has seen a strange person sneaking inside your house as he just happened to pass by and instantly Josuke is alarmed. He ignores his mother's confused questions as he rushes to your house in the middle of the night and pounds against the door, his heart hammering against his chest in fear. When you don't answer, he instantly assumes the worst and Crazy Diamond quicly destroys your door only to instantly repair it. He looks fully prepared to murder the strange woman he finds in your house but you arrive just in time to stop him and his stand from attacking her. With no ther choice left but to tell him the truth, you tell him that the person is your sister and your tragic backstory about how she was turned into a vampire and how you are desperately searching for a cure. A part of Josuke reacts quite intrigued because whilst he knows about the existence of stands, he has never known about the existence of vampires, although he also expresses his concern about your safety.
💎​When he realises how much you wish to turn your sister back into a human, his heart instantly melts and he promises to help you however he can. It is his duty as your boyfriend to make his girlfriend happy after all. You do not quite know what he is talking about, although you obviously have noticed the obvious crush he has on you. What you don't know as of now is that Josuke has gone genuinely delusional with his love for you to the point where he already thinks that both of you share the same love for each other. Even if the situation isn't pleasant for you, he sees this as his chance to shine and to make you love him even more than you already do in his mind. He starts speculating pretty soon that perhaps his own Stand Crazy Diamond could be the solution to all of your problems and the idea that he can be your hero excites him as he rambles to you about his idea. He truly feels like you two were meant to meet because what are the chances that he would have the perfect solution to turn your sister back into a normal human.
Giorno Giovanna
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🐞​You have joined the Mafia a while ago yet you have quickly risen through the ranks. You are earnest and hardworking and hate to let people down, always set on fulfilling the missions you are entrusted with. On the other hand it is also that the Don favors you that you have gained so much in such a short time and his feelings for you only seem to get stronger the longer he gets to know you. You are the kindest soul he has ever met as you do not tolerate the abuse of power by others and refuse to follow orders if they go against your own set of morales. You have gone even as far as to sometimes suggest to Giorno himself that he could do something to better the way of the Mafia and if you would have been anyone else, he wouldn't have tolerated it with a genuine smile and a promise to consider your advice. Giorno isn't oblivious to his feelings and he isn't surprised either that he fell for you as hard as you did. Your kindness and compassion resemble the rays of sunshine and he knows that he wants that warmth for himself.
🐞​You have never really elaborated on your private life even if he questioned you gently about it. You may be able to fool others but not Giorno who has dedicated so much time to observe you and memorise your every reaction and emotion you have shown around him. You are hiding something from him, something that burdens you. You deserve better than that and whilst he recognises that you probably don't wish to worry him as you probably assume that he is already busy enough with his duties as the Don, you don't seem to understand that he sees his duties in catering to your needs and every worry just as much. With connections throughout the entire country, very soon he finds out sacred information you never wanted him to know. He soothes you as soon as you figure out what he has done as you feel like he has broken your trust as he gently holds your trembling hands and promises you in a gentle tone that he only wishes to help you. He already knows everything but won't you tell him yourself?
🐞​He promises you to protect your sister and keep her identity hidden just as much as he promises you to find a cure for her. Even if he knows that he has partially broken your faith in him by invading your personal life and finding out something you don't want anything to know, he would lie if he would claim that he feels guilty. Instead he feels like he understands you even better now than he understood you before as he now knows more about your personal motives for joining Passione. Not only that but he is not above realising how much control he would hold over you by using your biggest weakness in form of your sister against you. It is quite a cheap move and he knows that yet he will do what he must do to protect you and to keep you for himself. He cares too much to lose you after all. He is genuine when he swears to you that he really plans to find a cure for your sister. You should be prepared though that he will demand something in return from you for his assistance and it'll most likely be the first step to make you his forever.
Cujoh Jolyne
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🪢​Jolyne and you meet in Green Dolphin Street as both of you were labeled as criminals. She has been betrayed by her ex who decided to blame the accident and the death of the car accident on her and you have been locked away because you have a history of breaking into rich and important people's houses, although you have never stolen something. Unfortunately you were caught and had been unfortunate enough to get caught by an especially unpleasant couple who made sure to lock you away for good. Both of you recognise that neither one of you is a bad person though and you hit it off quite well with each other. Her tough personality she likes to put on is something you learn to live with as you can kind of guess that she does this to hide her own vulnerability. You talk about all sorts of things as you spend your time together in jail as you treat her with kindness and respect. Something that makes her heart very flustered, although she doesn't want to admit it.
🪢​Jolyne has never been exposed to much kindness in her life as her own father has largely neglected her during her youth and so she is like a dry sponge who eagerly absorbs any kindness and compassion you give her. It is no wonder that you have her wrapped around your finger as quick as you do as she grows increasingly possessive and clingy. She is selfish about any kind word and any minute you can give her as she is very prone to jealousy as soon as you give your attention and sweetness to someone else but she doesn't care about such things, if she even recognises the wrongness of her feelings to begin with. she is just desperate for all of your attention and affection and doesn't shy away from beating someone up with her stand Stone Free to get rid of any unpleasant pesk who tries to get between you and her. You also join her when she plans to break out and she doesn't even have to beg you as you quickly agree. She is dear to you after all. A statement that turns her harsh facade to mush.
🪢​It is only a while later though that you confess to her that you have another reason for breaking out. You have a little sister who was turned into a vampire and you have been searching for clues how to cure her, hence why you broke into people's houses who you suspected to have something useful. Jolyne has rather mixed emotions when you tell her. On the one hand she does feel sorry for you and can understand your desire to help your sister. All of that doesn't compare to her jealousy though and even some part of her can admit that this is quite petty from her. It's your own sister after all, someone who would pose no threat as a possible rival. Jolyne's obsession goes beyond the simple jealousy of romantic rivals though. She strives to be the most important woman and person in your life and desires to have all of your attention and love for herself so your sister is still perceived as a rival as she wonders who you would choose if you had to do so. For now she has you for herself though and she tries to push the gnawing jealousy out of her mind, although she grows much more touchy as you work on breaking out of prison.
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shanastoryteller · 1 year
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Happy Pride! Can I get some trans content<3
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
He can’t be pregnant.
The curse mark on his arm tells him that he is living in this body on limited time. Eventually, he will die, the string keeping him inside Mo Xuanyu’s body snapping like a string and sending him back to wherever she summoned him from.
He’d let himself forget, a little. The body he inhabits is so different than the one he woke up in. He’s made her stronger, grown her golden core into a fearsome thing, worked and worked muscles until they swelled and hardened.
It had begun to feel like it belonged to him, liked he’d carved his body from Mo Xuanyu’s. The differences from his old body hadn’t felt important, and still don’t, it’s about how this is the body he worked for and made from the one given to him.
But Mo Xuanyu is dead and her body isn’t his to keep.
If he wants to have this baby, then he must betray Mo Xuanyu and her sacrifice. If he wants to bring Lan Zhan’s baby into the world, he cannot kill Jin Guangshan.
Completing the mission she retrieved him for will sever the connection and he will die again and so will the life he’s growing.
His only hope is that maybe, maybe the thread binding him here will hold long enough for him to both deliver this child and kill Jin Guangshan.
He looks from Jiang Yanli to Jiang Cheng, their fierceness and determination the closest he’s felt to home in a long time. He shouldn’t be letting them do this, shouldn’t be sinking into the comfort of their protectiveness when they think he’s someone he’s not, but he can’t help it. It makes him feel even sadder for Xuanyu, to think that they would have done this for her, if only she’d let them. Hadn’t Jiang Yanli reached out to him that very first day while he was a confused and terrified mess? And here she is now, offering to shield him from his husband, offering to help Mo Xuanyu choose her own path and either continue the pregnancy or have it end here.
He takes a deep breath, trying to stem the flow of his tears. Jiang Cheng’s hands on his shoulders feel like the only thing keeping him in place, like he’s pressing Wei Wuxian’s spirit into place in Xuanyu’s body.
He presses a hand against his stomach, thinking of the life shifting in his womb as the first lotuses that had sprouted from muddy mountainside. If he could grow flowers in the burial mounds, he can grow a child in a borrowed body.
But does he want to?
This isn’t what he’s here for. The best case scenario is that he leaves Lan Zhan behind to raise a child alone, the husband and child of the woman who murdered a clan leader. The worst case is he leaves Lan Zhan behind to mourn a wife and child and he dies without avenging the wrongs done against Mo Xuanyu. Or he can end this here, remove the potential child from the equation and kill Jin Guangshan as subtly as possible, something he has the time to arrange when he isn’t pushing his connection to this world to the brink. Then Lan Zhan will only be the widower rather than the husband of a murderer.
There are no good choices.
But he’s used to that.
He breathes in, holding it at the top of his lungs and letting out slowly.
A-Yuan had been the brightest light in the burial mounds. Anytime he wavered, aching for the life and the people he left behind, it wasn’t Wen Qing or Wen Ning of Granny who hardened his resolve once more, but A-Yuan.
He’d loved being a parent. He’d wished he really could grow siblings for A-Yuan like he’d grown turnips.
Wei Wuxian’s legacy is one of failure, of loss, of destruction. All those he tried to protect fell. All those he had protected turned against him. The last thing he will do on this earth is kill again, even if it is a man who has earned it.
He does not want to leave behind a legacy of only terrible things.  
It could all end horribly. But he’s always been foolish enough to hope for better than he has.
He finally meets Jiang Cheng’s steady gaze.
“I’ll talk to Wangji.”
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astrologysh · 7 months
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angel hours 👼
00:00 - by showing the hour 00:00 on the clock, your guardian angel lets you know that you’re making the right decisions and heading in the right direction.
01:01 - if you check your watch at 01:01, this means a call from your guardian angel to deal with your projects more decisively.
02:02 - If you come across with the hour of 02:02, this means that you should listen to your angel, it is possible that someone is hiding something from you. Go where your instincts take you.
03:03 - 03:03 has a very clear significance; it means anything is possible. Your dreams and plans might become reality thanks to your unwavering determination. It's not a question of magic wands, but of intended changes and success you'll achieve through hard work and determination
04:04 - 04:04 Mirror hour is worrying because it's a warning; your guardian angel is urging you to be careful of what's happening around you and to pay close attention. The guardian angels, who surround you, bring you good news, especially if you suffer from health problems
05:05 - The mirror hour 05:05 characterizes the love of life in the broadest sense of the word, that's to say; fun, sexuality, adaptability, humor, daring, and independence. The vibration of the 05:05 double hour speaks to us of unpredictable changes, excesses, and challenges.
06:06 - Through the mirror hour, 06:06, your angel tells you that you are not alone, that he protects you, and that he acts to reveal your inner power.
07:07 - The mirror hour 07:07 is directly related to the spirit and the inner life. It symbolizes faith, genius, psychology, and spirituality. This double hour promotes change, movement, and action. The essence of this numerical doubling is characterized by "love of life" in the broadest sense of the word.
08:08 - The mirror hour 08:08, urges you to be careful in your actions and attitudes. Here, you'll need to act with respect for others and for yourself. This double time encourages accomplishment through balance. Indeed, the message indicates that success is favored and that it is meant to be dazzling.
09:09 - 09:09 warns you against withdrawal and isolation because a new cycle is coming. This mirror hour invites you to abandon a certain material anchorage in order to be able to realize yourself fully. It delivers a message for you to work on your sociability and your humanity.
10:10 - The 10:10 angel number is a grounding number, meaning that the universe is trying to get you to see how large a role you play in this world. Showing you this number is the angels' way of getting you to see how life works.
11:11 - 1111 is an alert from the angelic energies that you are supported by forces you cannot see. You can sink into relief, celebrate, and get excited when you see 1111 — it gives you confirmation that everything is on schedule and divinely guided in your world at this time.8
12:12 - The 12:12 angel number is an indication that you are at a point in your life where you are ready to step out of your comfort zone and enter into those goals you've been putting off. If you've been contemplating trying something new, this is your sign to move forward!
13:13 - The angel number 1313 speaks of an energy shift, and this can also apply to our romantic lives and relationships. If you see this number, it could be because your soulmate is about to enter your life, so keep building positive energy in your body, mind, and soul so you can welcome the experience with ease and grace.
14:14 - The spiritual meaning of 1414 is about the power of positive thinking and how you can deepen your faith in yourself. By nurturing self-belief and trusting that the universe is working in harmony with you, can lead you to your life path and take you into a new phase of life.
15:15 - Angel number 1515 is a sign of new beginnings and opportunities coming your way. This number will keep following you until you open your heart to receive its blessings. Notice the ways in which you might be holding yourself back or resisting change. While change isn't always easy, it is necessary.
16:16 - When you notice 16:16 regularly, this marks the end of a cycle, or the end of a love story. Seeing this time can symbolize a break or a renewal. It is an obligatory passage to start again on healthier bases, on something more fulfilling.
17:17 - The angel number 1717 is concerned with good fortune, and new beginnings, and encourages you to finally take that leap of faith and follow your heart. This number calls on the energy of the number 1 and the energy of the number 7 and doubles its power.
18:18 - Change and prosperity are the meaning behind the angel number 1818. For those who keep seeing this number show up, take it as a positive sign from your guardian angels that something is about the shift and that positive energies are working in your favor to ensure you the best success is coming.
19:19 - 19:19 Mirror hour meaning: An invitation to be patient. Doors open and you want to go through them. However, if you see the time 19:19, it means you have to be patient. Whatever is getting in your way will disappear, but you need to have a plan.
20:20 - In love, the frequent appearance of 20:20 heralds the reversal of situations for both those in a relationship and singles. It indicates that your relationship life will soon be turned upside down. If you're currently in a relationship, this mirror hour reveals that you may be in a bad relationship.
21:21 - Sentimentally, 21:21 means fulfillment. In other words, it may mean formalizing a union, building a home, having a child. For single people, this time symbolizes the realization of a wish, the announcement of a beautiful meeting or some good news.
22:22 - The number 22:22 is an angel number, which represents harmony and serenity,” Zee explains. She continues: “It holds a very strong message that you must find balance in your life and that you need to gain clarity on what you want to desire and co-create with the universe to take aligned action.
23:23 - The spiritual interpretation of the double hour, 23:23, indicates that you will be successful in all your endeavors. The news is rather good, nevertheless to keep it that way, you will have to control a tendency to impulsiveness and instability.
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aayakashii · 2 months
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I’m so glad someone sent in a SH ask I’ve been too shy to! I loved it 💕 could you do another one with the remanding Hotarubi boys and Lyca?
ofc!!! I'm happy you liked it ๑´ ³)˘ᵕ˘៸៸ I'm gonna be honest, Haku's part kinda left me giggling and kicking my feet so I hope you like it as well fkfjdkdj
Warning: sh mentioned, a bit more angst on Zenji's part
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"How did you get hurt?" Lyca says, grabbing your arms as soon as he noticed the fading scars.
You open and close your mouth, wordlessly, trying to think of ways to explain it to him. Lyca probably never heard or read about issues like yours. Would it be better to lie? Weave a story that wouldn't have him pity you?
You look at the earnest gaze he gives you, and you sigh. He deserves your honesty.
"I... I hurt myself. I'm the one who did this" you say, softly, knowing he would probably have more questions.
"Why would you do this?" he scrunched his face. "Is it a human thing?"
You hum, in thought.
"I guess you could say so." you reply, slowly, thinking of the proper words to explain it to him "Sometimes, when some humans are feeling very sad and like everything is a horrible mess, they feel like doing this gives them a sense of control. Not everyone does this. But, sometimes, some very depressed people might do it to feel some relief."
Lyca's wolf ears flatten against his head.
"I don't... really get it but... you were very depressed?" he mumbles, fingers tracing the little lines on your skin.
You shrug.
"I was in a dark place some time ago. I'm feeling better now, I promise" you say, and ruffle his hair.
Lyca lift his head up, yellow eyes gazing yours with determination.
"If you say you're okay now, I'll believe you. But promise me you won't try to hurt yourself again."
"I promi-" you begin to say, but he interrupts you.
"You can't lie! I'll know if you hurt yourself! I can smell you well, you know!" his face looks scrunched in anger, but his ears stay flattened on his head and his tail curls down.
You smile and pat his head again.
"I promise."
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"My dear, how I wish I could have kept you safe from your struggles."
Zenji's voice, usually boisterous, spoke to you in a soft tone as he looked at the scars on your thighs while you slept.
You murmured his name in your sleep, unconsciously recognizing his presence in your room (his nightly visits became a routine, after all) and you held out your hand towards him.
His hand fazed through your skin, yet he still insisted on trying to touch you and comfort you as you slept.
He sat on your bed, eyes fixed on your peaceful figure, and he knew that those were scars from battles fought long ago – battles you have won. But it still pained him that he wasn't close to you since forever, that he wasn't able to protect you when you needed him but didn't know of him.
Even if he needed to write odysseys upon odysseys, singing praises to you throughout your whole life, just so you'd never feel so lost that you had to hurt yourself to find your footing again, he would do it.
Zenji would gladly haunt you for eternity, if it meant keeping you safe from your demons, in any way he could.
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"Is this something you could tell me?" Haku squeezed your hand as he looked as the fading lines on your wrist, as you two held hands, strolling together on the beach.
You shook your head.
"There isn't a specific thing to say about it. I was in a bad place and made a choice that left these scars on me. It just... happened like that. I'm fine now, but also I don't regret them, nor do I feel ashamed. I did what I could to survive."
Haku stopped on his tracks and stared deeply into your eyes. He sighed, a faint smile gracing his face, and brought your wrist to his lips, kissing each scar.
"You're very strong. You should give me some chances to be your savior, you know? How am I ever going to look cool for you?" he said after kissing the last scar, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes shined against the twilight.
You playfully tapped his head to shush him as you giggled.
He squeezed your hand once again.
"If you ever need to fight to survive again, I want you to rely on me. Is that okay for me to ask? I'll understand if you'd rather not have me all up in your business, though."
You shook your head and brought your hand to his cheek, smiling as he leaned against your touch.
"I'll be more than happy to have you with me in any moment of my life, whether I'm struggling or not, whether I'm sad or happy."
"This sounds a lot like a marriage vow, you know?" he smirked again and winked playfully.
"Oh, shut up." you patted his cheek and walked away, with him chuckling as he hurried after you.
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coochellati · 27 days
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How many kids do you think Bruno would ideally want to have? And what kind of father do you think he’d be?
Hi!!!! Oooh, this is a super fun question!!!
Before I get into it, I just wanted to say that Maggie (@cornerfortherats) and I had a great discussion over this question, and since some of these thoughts are hers, I wanted to tag her for credit !!
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I believe Bruno would want one or two kids, probably leaning toward two. He’d want to ensure he could give equal time and attention to each child without stretching himself too thin. While I think he could handle more than two—okay, leading a team of mafiosos isn’t the same as raising kids, but the leadership skills he’s cultivated would certainly be useful in parenting—that doesn’t mean he *wants* more. And of course, he wouldn’t treat his kids the way he treats his teammates; he would give them much more love and care.
As a father, Bruno Bucciarati would be deeply involved in his children's lives. He wants to give them the kind of life he had before his parents' divorce—one filled with love and warmth.
Bruno would be the type of dad to hug his kids often because he didn’t receive much affection growing up. It can be awkward adjusting to normal levels of affection when you’re not used to it, and he wouldn’t want his kids to experience that. He wants them to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loves them.
Every night, Bruno reads to his kids the way his mother read to him. Those memories are something Bruno is no doubt fond of, and he wants his children to feel that same warmth.
Bruno spends as much time with his children as he can because he feels the best part of his life is spent with his family. He wants to be there for every moment—his children’s first words, first steps, etc. I can totally see Bruno letting his kid dress him up (maybe as a fairy princess for a tea party or something). However, he would not allow anyone to take a photo of him while in costume.
You can bet his children are getting the best education possible. As someone who never had the chance to attend a good school, he wants to make sure his children are well set up in life, and thanks to Passione, he can afford to send them anywhere.
Bruno is the type of dad who would cry when his kids are born. However, it wouldn’t be at the hospital as you might imagine, but alone with his partner and baby. It’s a mix of the usual dad joy and the relief of finally getting to rebuild the family he lost. He feels an unspoken awe and eternal gratitude towards his partner for making their baby, like a "how did you create someone so amazing?" kind of feeling. (This last part only applies if his partner is AFAB.)
He would probably try to quit being a mafioso to focus on family when his first kid is on the way. This would be difficult, especially if he’s already deeply involved, but he’d be concerned about the danger his connections could pose to his new child.
Additionally, he wants to be a role model for his children, and the best way to keep them out of a shady life is to cut ties with Passione entirely. Bruno would never allow his children to join Passione or even come close to it. He would also be very secretive about his past life as a mafioso, shielding his kids from that part of his history. (He may eventually tell them about his experience in the organization when they’re much older.) He’s determined to make sure they grow up loved and safe, ensuring they steer clear of a dangerous path.
Due to his protective nature, he might come across as a stricter parent. In his mind, enforcing order ensures safety, something he didn’t have the luxury of growing up with. Bruno shows this strict side quite often in Vento Aureo, such as when he and his team arrived at San Giorgio Maggiore. Before stepping off the boat, while his team was happily imagining what kind of food they would eat later, Bruno snapped, impatiently reminding them that they were still on a mission. He would be significantly less stern with his children than he is with his team, but still firm.
Overall, Bruno would be an amazing parent. Sure, he may be strict at times, but he doesn’t want total control over his kids—as someone who has a deep understanding of life’s perils, he wants nothing more for them to grow up safe, happy, and most of all, loved.
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thanks for the ask!! <3 ily!!
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