#when we are dead and turned into stars in the sky there will be no sexual/romantic orientations but my love for my family will still b real

[vinjinssunglasses]

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♯┆summary; With the mention of a rebellion against your lover and a third party mysteriously arising in the midst of a war, Haruto’s home life.. All piling upon themselves, worry after worry. The last thing you want is bloodshed.

♯┆ tags; established relationship, implied child abuse/neglect, canon divergence,

♯┆ w/c; 3.8k

♯┆ a/n; plot-heavy, somi park training arc 😭 help im so tired

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That night you rested in his loving arms, his hair draping over your body. No matter how gentle he were, singing you sweet lullabies when he realised you were still awake, your body simply refused all efforts to relax.

Stress has taken over your mind, and it’s as if your not the one in charge if your body. Has anything even changed? Everything you did seemed futile. Whats the point of even trying anymore?

Your turned your body more into his warm chest, and tried to forget everything. Clear all these useless thoughts, push them to the back of your head and finally let your mind relax. They crawled from the pit you banished them to and caused trouble as if to taunt you.

What did Shintaro mean that day? Rebellion. Shingen, pronounced dead? There’s a reason why he’s the leader, have they all forgotten? Deep down you know he will remain undefeated, yet the thought of him paralysed on the floor, crimson blood pouring out of his body gnaws at you. What would his last words be? Why, what, when, who — is it just impossible for you to rest easy?

Shouldn’t you tell Shingen? Sitting up, his hand draped from your waist to your thighs, and he wearily blinked awake.

“What’s the matter? Can’t sleep again?” Shingen muttered, half-asleep.

“Yeah. I’m going to go get some fresh air and a drink. You go back to sleep, alright baby?” You placed a kiss upon his forehead, and he rested against the pillow once more, taking your word.

The cold breeze of the night calmed you only a little as you walked towards the kitchen. Stars and moon alike, you watched as they formed detailed constellations upon the sky — one of a knife and a moon. That reminded you: Shingen would always call you his star, and you’d call him your moon. His favourite inanimate thing was the moon, shining brightly at night and disappearing by day. He’d say it’s represent him as youth, however not going to deeply into it. Shingen’s expression whenever it came up in conversation were.. unusually troubled. As if it haunted him and had to shut it out for years, just for it to reappear when he least expects it.

It made you wonder what happened, who made him this way? If anything, you wanted to seek revenge, and yet you couldn’t.

Rules must’ve stopped him from falling in love with you in the first place, just like how rules are stopping you now. If it wasn’t so frowned upon, you would’ve taken uo marital arts and higher education. Being born into this life stopped you from being you, stripping you from your talents to being in a uniform, dystopian society called impossible expectations that we name as the ideal life for women and those alike. Same with Gun, your only son, becoming a slave to this system.

Letting out a sigh you didn’t realise you were holding in, you carefully slided open the door, revealing the room you were so used to seeing. Leaning against the counter, taking steady small sips while sneakily opening a tablet of sleeping pills, you could only hold your head in your hand. You’d be damned if anyone realised you snuck in pills like these, yet you needed them. You hated the fact you needed them. Each time you swallowed it down your throat, it only reminded you how you were so dependent on this clan. Having your families reputation boosted this way was the only way to recover it in the first place, realising how much they’ve messed up everything.

You cursed under your breath, and a headache came upon you. It must be from all these unwanted thoughts reappearing.

“I see you’re up late.“ A familiar voice echoed in your ears and you turned to look at the tall figure, Shintaro. Worst timing. You were only wearing a small nightgown, you were dressed too informally to be met with someone of upmost authority. Undeserved authority. Rules were the only thing he cared about. Setting aside his own emotions and others morals, he made sure everyone fit into this idolised society. Its was as if it were our fault we were born and raised into this life. The way he re-enforced these problematic beliefs were like it were law, despite not abiding to the real law in the first place, resorting to violence when and whenever he pleased. His manipulative tactics made it seem as if he were a befitting leader for the clan, drawing everyone in with the whip of his fan and his smooth tone of voice. Shintaro’s undeniably astounding looks have him the upper hand, even the other ladies from other clans chattered amongst themselves when they found out weren’t married yet, flirting with him whenever the opportunity arises. As they say, ‘you should marry into power and wealth.’

It wouldn’t be wrong to say they gained and admired Shintaro more than Shingen’s leadership. Shingen may be blinded at times, yet he had the brain capacity to understand complex situations and arise new rules and regulations when change were necessary. He weighed the benefits for the people, always upholding them as first in his mind, as they were to live peacefully under his guidance. On the other hand, Shintaro twisted the rules to fit his own narrative, manipulating them as to seem Shingen made it this way, to seem as it were his fault the Yamazaki were so divided. You didn’t trust him and avoided all communication and conflict, as he’ll make them turn from you too. It was no use anyway — they already wanted your head on a pitchfork.

“Yes. My apologies for any disturbance I’ve caused, I’ll go back to my room—“

“Wait.” Shintaro started, taking slow steps towards, gazing down upon your avoidant one. The moonlight cast shadows over the room, completely still, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Every ounce of your being anticipates his next move, and your breathing stopped.

“Why won’t you rebel? Can’t you see we’re all unhappy under his rule?” His hand lifted to rest upon your shoulder, the force crushing your collarbone just enough not to break it. The knife was sitting there in its rack, and it felt as if it were staring at you, begging to picked up. If this were to go on, he may as well break your shoulder.

In one swift motion, you ripped the knife out of its rack, its sharp end reaching his lips, glistening in the moons radiance.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? Unless you want your head splattered on this floor for me to clean up, I don’t want to hear another word.” Stern, serious and strict. Underneath this facade, you were shaking. Knife trembling in your fingers, you upheld your scrutinising gaze, watching as his hand fell to his sides. Shintaro didn’t want to admit that he saw Shingen in your eyes, the same look he gave him that day. The same strength that beat him once before was in you. It dawned upon him that you may have the ability to become as strong as Shingen one day, however that was only a meaningless hunch. Someone like you is simply just a joke.

“I could make you my wife, and give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Unlike him, who only disappoints this clan. Why would you want a leader like him? Talk to the people of this clan, wouldn’t you?” Grasping onto the knife, Shintaro pointed it towards the ground gently.

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to hear another word from you?”

“One last chance. I’ll give you one, last chance.” He swerved in closer, breathe cold against your ear. Gripping onto his collar, you shivered, pulling him away.

“Get out of my sight, you hear me? Next time, I’ll delve this knife into your throat.” You growled, the thought of it all making your blood boil.

Shintaro sighed, accepting that boneless threat as an answer. “Fine, as you wish.” Yet you knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would do this. Having you in his side would make one less corpse to clean up, and an easier way to excuse the bloody murder he were scheming.

The two of you exchanged one last glance, and the tension eased as you were left alone to your own thoughts. All this time you avoided troublesome matters like this, and it finds you when you least want it. The knife rested in its holder once more, and you took a deep breath. Ignoring this won’t do you any good, yet telling your lover he may perish in cold blood doesn’t seem exactly appealing. In fact the opposite. It pains you to even think about it.

Again, you’re up until morning once more, resting in the sun’s golden rays. Taking a deep breath, you entangle your fingers in your lovers hair, eyes lingering over his facial features. He slowly winked awake and rested his hands over yours, mumbling a ‘good morning’ under his breath.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I just woke up early, that’s all.” You sighed, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Of course, you didn’t want him to worry, he must be too busy himself anyway. For years you’ve been independent, so it won’t be any different now.

“There’s no need to lie. If there’s something the matter, I promise I’ll make it right.” The gentleness in his eyes soothed you, yet not enough to let those damned words spill out of your mouth.

….,

Word has spread that Gun has taken up Aikido. That day you prepared his lunch, and decided to watch him train. The smile on his face when he saw you sitting in the side warmed you, as you enveloped him in an embrace.

“Mum, youre here.” He cheered, doing small punches in the air to show off what he’s learnt.

“Of course. I’ve just been a little busy lately. Look, I made you tteokbeokki.” You smiled. It was your favourite thing to watch him being happy, knowing it might not last long.

“My favourite!” Gun licked his lips, clasping onto your hands. “I’ll train extra hard today, okay? Watch me, watch me!” He hadn’t seen you in ages. As a young boy, he wouldn’t understand, and doesn’t need to even take notice of your situation.

“It’s time for training.” The Kojima brothers, also one of the many supporting Shintaro’s leadership. As if they’re his personal bodyguards, they spread his propaganda like major gossip. Perhaps the news about the rebellion is being tossed around as the second passes. Shigeaki passes a distasteful glare at you before diverting Gun’s attention to the task at hand.

Since Gun was only young, they decided to teach one of his nephews how to do Aikido as well. They couldn’t personally spar with him because of the height, age and experience difference, and an intelligent opponent like Haruto would be well-suited.

Similar in age, the only difference was their upbringing. Haruto was a secluded boy who was subjected to the cruel opinions that he were useless because of Gun’s existence. Instead, his mother offered reading. In her view, if he couldn’t be the best at fighting, why not intelligence?

It almost reminded you of Shingen’s and Shintaro’s situation. He was born to succeed, while the other was made to cover up after his mess. Since Shingen were the oldest, he were given privileges like fighting and only sometimes playing around. Shintaro, on the other hand, were interested in martial arts yet never got the opportunity to persue it like he did. The notion that he were to protect his brother — no, dedicate his life to him — eventually seeped through the cracks, and jealousy took over. Nobody cared what Shintaro did, whether he ran away or not, he was always in the shadows. Shintaro always presumed he never struggled, having everyone by his side supervising him, yet little did he know he did.

He didn’t know that Shingen didn’t like training for so long, knowing his only purpose being only to prosper and become the heir to the Yamazaki clan. They only praised him for his fighting abilities, nothing else. This clan only critizied his interest in artistry’s and such, To leave a peaceful life and play games with his brother were his goals, yet Shintaro only treated him with coldness. The awkward, suffocating air between them never subsided, and still persists until today.

For centuries it was like this, and old tradition that you plan to cease from existence.

Haruto used strategic methods to trick his opponent, Gun, to the floor. What the Kojima brothers didn’t know was that intelligence and usage of technique was also important in a battle. Jonggun was trained to use brute force, which was in fact also crucial, yet he didnt have the ability to predict his next moment, therefore his next attack was based off of quick thinking. The way he grabbed his arm and flipped him into the floor resonated with you, something inside made you want to learn that too.

Then again, it would be against the rules.

“Auntie, did you see that?” Haurto smiled, pulling you in to a hug. He’s just a young boy too, why can’t he also train to be the best? Why are we, as humans, so dependent on a genetic abnormality?

“I’ll beat you next round!” Gun pouted, sticking his tongue out, teasing the other. Haruto made a snarky remark back, and they quickly started getting ready to spar for another round of Aikido.

Haruto’s mother doesn’t deserve him. No, not at all. You’ve noticed how he always comes to you for his troubles, advice and support. On the outside, she seems like the perfect mother — sparing only kind words to her only son, caring for him — yet in private, what does she do? Those bruises speak for themselves; just what has he gone through? At the occasion his long sleeves that he always wears slips up, a new one appears, and he shakes it off like it’s normal, changing conversation or distracting you while he pulls it down. Guilt washes over you as you couldn’t bear to admit that his experiences would haunt him for the rest of his life. Nobody deserves that.

“Mum! Are you watching?” Gun’s voice, steady with his hands in starting position, bring you back to reality. You clap and cheer with a smile, and watch each and every step. Haruto wins once more, and Gun slumps over towards you, disappointed.

“How about you two teach me how to fight in Aikido style, and I’ll give you the tteokbokki I made. Fair trade, huh?”.

…..,

In Korea, Gapryong’s Fist Gang rests in the comfort of their calm surroundings, under the warm light of a chandelier in the midst of a cafe. Warm light crests a warm atmosphere, the coffees fumes diffusing into the warm breeze the windows let in. Idle chatter

Jinyoung’s mysteriously studying human anatomy, sneering while holding his pencil ever-so intimately. Gapryong peers over his shoulder, taking a quick peek of the monstrosities he’s been hiding recently. Strangely scientifically accurate art pieces of the human skeleton, limbs, organs and veins. His obsession with skulls were disturbing, graphically capturing every hollow, rounded and crisp surface of the cranium. Teeth. After beating his victims, he’d pull out their teeth, collecting them in jars to preserve them. Not just any tooth, the wisdom tooth were his favourite. If he could, he’d slice each finger — in fact the whole hand — and inspect each and every crevice. Teeth were easier to steal and nearly as satisfiying.

No matter how close these four men were, fighting all their battles together, none of them knew the twisted layer under his skin that were slowly taking over.

Jinyoung has suspiciously became quieter recently. Before he’d wear a smile on his face and kick up conversation like it was nothing, offering hand wrestling or the sort. Now? He’s preferably keep to himself, not saying much and focusing on that sketchbook. The scratching across the page, eyes peeled, breath becoming more dragged by the second. Insanity? He’d be the last one you’d suspect. Someone as outgoing as him would never, or so the other three members thought.

Do they even know eachother?

“So, about the Yamazaki Clan,” Gapryong starts, finger tapping against the table. “The police showed up last time, and we had to flee. What a bore.”

“That’s right. I’m sure they’re dwelling in Korea still.” Elite yawned, breaking eye contact with a grin that didn’t seem so frustrated.

“I’m sure we’ll get em next time, y’know?” Gapryong bites his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair.

Silence dawned over the atmosphere, as if someone was wanting to say something, yet left it to the next person. Elite took a sip of his tea, not lifting his eyes off of his cup while tapping his foot on the wooden floor. You could never tell what thoughts were running through his mind. Its was only obvious by his course of actions, what steps he took and what blood he shed. Actions and foreshadowed speech were the way to figuring out his intentions, it were no use to just ask him, being such the perfect liar he is. Precisely, this is the reason they didn’t predict his newest project, designed to leave thousands of corpses, particularly the three bodies he wanted. And he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Call him greedy as you may, but a guy like him has no bounds to getting what he pleased.

Maybe it’s the trust between them all, why they didn’t suspect him. All these years must’ve meant something to all of them. To Gapryong, it was true friendship — who didn’t like someone to trust and keep company? To Tom, it meant loyalty, a group you could share anything to. Nowadays it felt like that idea has went astray. To Jinyoung, — well, the Jinyoung they used to know — it was exploring the world with the people you value most, laughing all night with a couple of drinks. To Elite… What was it to Elite?

He pulled up his glasses, scanning their troubled faces that avoided the other’s eyes.

Tom sighs, taking it upon himself. “You’ve all heard about that clan recently taking over…” Elite’s breath stopped, batting his eyes in disbelief. Jinyoung paused, letting out a sigh before continuing scribbling. Gapryong frowned, running his hands through his hair, swigging his chapstick out of his pocket.

“That’s right. It’s becoming worrying. I beat down some of the lapdog’s of the organisation, yet none of them will speak, no matter how much you torture them.” Jinyoung spoke softly, voice remaining neutral, yet his heart felt like it was the end of the Fist Gang. No, it can’t be over yet. Not before his plan takes place.

“Then we’ll have to talk their boss.” Gapryong spoke, stern, completely set on the idea. Whether it meant a simple polite introduction or a brutal brawl rid of mannerisms, his determination remained intact. Gapryong wasn’t the type to give up.

“Y’know what? Let’s drink tonight, I want to meet some lovely ladies before I do.” He smirks and passes a seductive wink over to the barista standing behind the till, watching her blush and rush to cover her reddened face. “Who’s with me?”

Tom agrees and Elite pauses for a second, eventually nodding. Jinyoung sits still, despite the wait for his reply. They all expected him to cheer and boost the atmosphere.. Yet nothing passed his lips.

“You’re not coming again, eh?” Tom breaks the silence once more, trying to look in his eyes for answers but to no avail, as his overgrown hair drapes over his face. Jinyoung shakes his head.

“Hey, you’ve been slouching all this time, shouldn’t you stretch? C’mon, it must be tiring. Loosen up a litle.” Tom tried to use the enthusiasm Jinyoung always used to and reach his hand over his shoulder. However before he knew it, his hand was squeezed with a strength he had never felt before. It felt as if his grip has restricted blood flowing into his hands, making them begin to numb.

Jinyoung’s gaze finally lifted over his sketchbook, and they finally got a glimpse of his face. His twitching eyes were an unusual shade of crimson red, each vein eeringly connecting from his sclera to the inside of his lower eyelid. Jinyoung always loved applying chapstick, loving the soft and glossy feeling upon his lips, except this time, they were chapped, with open, bleeding wounds and drool edging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m fine.” Jinyoung muttered, rubbing his tired, bloodshot eyes. No one muttered a word, staring with shock. What could they even say? Their friend — their once friend, as they could barely recognise the man he’s become — is now.. insane? Insane was the first word that came to mind to all of them. And all of them knew they weren’t far off.

….,

“Shingen. Haven’t you heard about that new clan has risen recently?” You ask, while raising your fork to your lips.

“Mmm. It seems so.” Shingen’s voice trails off, taking a sip of the transparent wine provided. “Perhaps it could be a problem. Especially since the Fist Gang and our clan are still under conflict… It is a relief we wasn’t arrested last time.”

“We’ve recovered well. Although a third party seems suspicious. Someone must be backing them, not every odd gang that shows up can be that strong and popular that quick.” You mention, and now that you think about it properly, hidden forces must at play here.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, huh? It won’t be a big deal. Like any other gang, they’ll fall to the hierarchy around here.” Shingen tries to reassure, using his authoritative tone to try and distract you from the concern written all over his face. He already knows they’re wiping out other small gangs and clan, then heading for the big prize. Nobody can be certain that they’re next, therefore it’s no prediction that they’re preparing their forces.

A third force making things complicated at a time like this cannot be a coincidence. At first, Shingen figured it must’ve been that cursed man’s Fist Gang, yet it’s unlikely they would. Someone’s pulling the strings behind the scenes, however there are no leads to show so. Only mere baseless intuition.

It makes you wonder — who? Each are loyal to their own side, especially during a tense time like this. They must’ve known a huge scale war between two major clans were going own, taking this into their advantage. Your eyes look down upon the food in front of you, then to your lover sitting opposite you.

Him, as a corpse? Dead, in front of you, his body cold. His pulse not throbbing anymore, breathe not passing his lips. Blood spilling under his body gallon by gallon, at an alarming rate. You could only cry as his eyes didn’t flutter open no more.

You’re overthinking again. Just another one of your tainted daydreams.

[camillelespanayesbtch]

Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)

Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)

Chapter Content: Funeral, men being violent, fire

Word Count: 3942

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Chapter Two

The embers had long grown cold by the time you found it in yourself to lay your mother down so you could prepare her grave. It would take a while to dig the hole, but you didn’t want to rush it as the walls would cave in. You could tell the soil was good, it was dark and fluffy, worms wriggling around in the pile to the side of the hole as you add another shovel load to it. This is what your mother had wanted from you all along, to ensure that the soil that provides you with food had enough nutrition to continue providing, to not starve and sap life from the plants that called the earth their home. The earth, this soil would now be your mother’s home, and you hoped that the insects and bugs would treat her as kindly as she had them.

You wipe the sweat and tears from your face onto your sleeve, smearing the dirt that had got on your clothes onto your face. You lean back against the wall of the grave, tilting your head up to look at the night sky above. The stars were twinkling brilliantly, some even dancing across the sky and kissing the moon as they pass by. You reach your hand out, hoping to capture one of them because where there was light as bright as this, there was life, and maybe just maybe it would be enough to bring her back, but just like when you were a child trying the same thing- the stars were out of reach for they were meant to be untouched, their purpose is to be free, to guide us should we need it. A soft sigh leaves your lips, watching the way the light from the moon reflects off your nails and for a moment you could trick yourself into believing you had the stars at your fingertips.

You turn your head to look at where your mother lay, the light of the moon shining down on her made her body look silver instead of like a body from Pompeii. You plant your hands on the ground above the grave and pull yourself out, taking the shovel with you and stabbing it into the mound of dirt. There was a brief moment where you wanted to keep stabbing the soil, as if to punish it for what had transpired that day, but you had already disappointed your mother while she was living, you did not need her spirit to feel that way too. Your shoulders slump, more sobs wracking through your body, and you would have let yourself succumb to despair had you not been worried the beasts of the night would take to her body. You force yourself to turn around and go to your mother’s body, using your powers to lift her up, the tendrils of red carefully wrapping around her as you guide her into the grave. You lay her gently in the cold dark earth, leaning down to place a bouquet in her hands, hoping it would protect her like the flowers she had woven into your hair did. You stare at her a moment longer, although she no longer had her icy-blue eyes or soft features, you could still tell it was her because there were lines on her face that weren’t burnt- paths created by her healing tears as she cried for you, for herself. No one cried for you as much as she did.

You were careful piling the dirt on top of her, your last act as her caring daughter, perhaps even penance for inflicting so much suffering upon her. She had always told you to be respectful of the dead, be it an animal or human, their body should be cared for just as much as you would have cared for them while they were still alive. A proper burial is essential, each stone placed gently as to not wake the dead. Then the flowers, ones that they loved, ones that will protect them on the other side.

You scatter the last shovel of dirt on the grave before putting the shovel to the side to start placing the rocks. On the underside of each one was a rune, carved into it with your knife, and although you weren’t a protection witch like she was, there was still the possibility they did something- there is still the possibility it will stop the other members of the coven from desecrating her grave. The last stone was her headstone, you carve her symbol into it, a lotus, the representation of the cycle of life. The sound was harsh on your ears, metal scraping against hard stone shouldn’t ever happen like this, and usually it wouldn’t, would it? Nobody would willingly sit on the wet earth under the night sky and carve runes and symbols into rocks to mark a loved one’s grave, they would sooner do everything they could do to ensure their family survives than this. Why hadn’t you done that? Selfish girl. Monster.

You stand up, gathering the last of the flowers and laying them over the stones, “Everything returns to the earth with which we came,” you murmur. You wipe your face again, a terrible aching in your chest as the weight of the evening finally settles in your bones. You understood that there were people out there that lost their mother younger than you, and there was no doubt that was incredibly painful, but tonight- tonight you had lost yours. Then again, those children, those teenagers, they were not the reason their mother died, but you were. You are. Were you really burying her to protect her? Or were you doing that to assuage your own guilt? This was the most genuine thing you have done for your mother in a long, long time. Do not kid yourself, the flowers you gave her, the false apologies that left your lips as easily as milk flows from a cow’s udder, those were not sincere, those were not genuine. You are, and always will be, nothing more than a selfish, evil little girl that you heard your mother call you one meeting.

Just like it had earlier that day, the same darkness settles onto you, and while your cheeks were stained with tears, no more threatened to fall. The switch had flicked in your brain, and as you head back to the house you’d once called home, the bodies of the other witches go up in flames once more. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could hear them screaming and oh how that sent a shiver down your spine. Those women had it coming, always treating you like an outcast, a miscreant, and whispering in your mother’s ear about how you should have been left in the woods as a baby to be torn apart by wolves. You hum to yourself as you walk, your fingers moving down by your side as though you’re conducting a choir, the gesture soothing to you even as you feel the spark of magic jumping between fingertips. Maybe you should burn this town to the ground, get the few good people out with a warning sent on the wind, then sit back and watch the fireworks begin.

The front door was still open when you get back, a few leaves from outside having blown in on the breeze but other than that, there was no evidence of anyone damaging the property. You shut the door behind you, your eyes landing on the chair your mother had sat in, a few petals from flowers scattered around it, the color drained from them. You let out a bark of a laugh at that, pushing off the door then heading upstairs, each footstep hitting the floor with a heavy thud, the wooden steps groaning under the force. You didn’t know what to put in your bag, obviously you needed underwear- you had gone commando once or twice and the sensation was thoroughly unwelcome. But should you pack your laptop? Makeup? It seemed silly, really, to bring those things along with you. You couldn’t take your phone charger because you didn’t know when you’d next be in a building with a plug, maybe you could get one of those solar chargers on your adventure. You toss a few clothes into your backpack before going to your bed where you pick up the soft toy you’ve had since you were a baby, it had definitely seen better days, but it still provided you comfort. You stare at its black beady eyes, able to see your reflection in them and you looked so small in those little eyes, the black exaggerating the filth that you were covered in. Should you shower? It seemed rather pointless to wash the dirt and grime from your skin when you were about to spend lord knows how long wandering the great outdoors. You didn’t want to catch ubers to other towns as it meant waiting around for them to arrive which gave ample opportunity for the rest of the coven to lynch you.

You hug the toy close to yourself, closing your eyes as you breathe in your mother’s perfume that had been sprayed on it. The toy provided such comfort to you, your heartrate slowing down as you continue to take deep breaths, and if you let your mind wander you could almost feel your mother’s arms wrapping around you, her soft voice in your ear “You are kind. You are smart. You are my beautiful little girl. Never forget, mama loves you.” You wish you hadn’t heard that last part because how could she say she loves you then cast you aside to burn? How could she have admitted to the other members of the coven that she knew you were evil, agreeing with them when they said she should have left you in the woods then come home to you and profess her love? You didn’t understand. You grab the toys head with one hand, your other hand gripping the body and you start to twist it, the fire returning to your eyes, “If you want me to burn, then I’ll burn everything that once was mine.”

Try as you might, the threads holding the toy together did not budge, no fabric tears as the head twists three-sixty. You swear loudly, going to throw it on the ground when a glimmer catches your eye- only when you look closer could you see that the thread was gold. Of course, you think bitterly, of course. Your mother must have known from the moment you left her body that you would be an angry girl, that no amount of love she pours into you would make you calm like she was. No amount of food laced with calming herbs, nor drinks brewed with nothing but love would dull the volcano that bubbled deep within you.

You feel your hands warm up, not bothering to take deep breaths to calm the impending combustion, and soon enough you were holding the toy as it starts to burn- the flames licking up its sides, wrapping around the toy in a cloak, the smell of burning cotton hitting your nose. It was frustrating, watching it clearly on fire yet none of the fur was turning black, the beady eyes did not melt, and if you were being honest, that made it worse than actually destroying something that had once provided you such comfort all those years ago. “Why won’t you just die?” You ask it, voice barely audible over the crackling of the flames, “Just break. Break. Break.” Please.

You toss the burning toy onto your bed, gathering the last few items you wanted and stuffing them into your backpack before zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder. The smell of burning fabric fills the room along with thick black smoke, the substance staining the white walls until they too were consumed by flames. There was a strange comfort in the warmth of the fire as they lick at your skin like snake tongues, tickling what skin was available to them and threatening to further ruin your clothing. You reach out, your hand hovering above the flames, your fingers moving as though you could make the fire dance the way you want it to. The heat stung, were you anybody else, your skin would be threatening to blister, filling with liquid then bursting, or perhaps it would melt off like it did those men. Part of you hoped that it would, maybe then you would understand why your mother had begged for you to stop, why the men had screamed so loudly with the echoes of all those that had perished before them. Maybe you did deserve to burn after all.

You let out a laugh and shake your head, don’t be so foolish. You did what you had to do, didn’t you? So what if a few men got hurt in the process, how many thousands of women have been hurt because of them for no reason? They had it coming. They only have themselves to blame. You leave your room, humming to yourself as you make your way downstairs, the burning inferno surging after you, spilling down the steps behind you and reaching out to wrap around your feet. You and your mother were the only ones to sing this song in your coven as the elder-witch had forbidden it, claiming it had been used for centuries to lure witches to their demise. How could a song do something like that? All songs have stories to them, it didn’t make them true. Yet, whenever you hum the tune, the ballad, you could feel your magic crackling under your skin, at the tips of your fingers like electricity- whoever created it knew what they were doing, and deep down, you didn’t blame them for using it to their advantage. People hate to see a woman succeed.

“You can burn the place to the ground, but it won’t hide what you’ve done,” a gruff voice says, a husband of one of the women whom you had killed at your attempted execution. He was holding a crossbow up, the sharp tip of the arrow pointing at you, the steel reflecting the fire that was starting to creep along the ceiling towards the only exit, the beast starved for oxygen. He narrows his eyes at you when you don’t flinch, instead, holding your head up higher, your fingers twitching by your side as the tips begin to glow. “You killed my wife,” he continues, “You turned my daughter against us. There is no space in this coven for someone like you.”

You run your tongue over your teeth as a smirk tugs at your lips, shaking your head slightly you then suck in a breath, “Me?” You ask innocently, putting your hands behind your back and shifting your body slightly like a child would when trying to get out of trouble, “Little old me?” A chuckle rumbles from your chest before escaping from your mouth, quickly turning into a cackle that makes the man step back, his crossbow wavering, “It’s not my fault your daughter saw you two for the sad, weak, pathetic little witches you really are.” If you twisted the knife a little deeper, he’d soon cave in to his base instinct, all men do and that made them terribly predictable. “Heaven forbid I treat your daughter better than any man could. What? Can’t handle another maiden treating her right? Is that because you were busy the next town over fucking someone her age? Tsk, twenty-three is a bit young for you, don’t you think?”

“You little bitch!” He yells, tossing the cross-bow to the side as he storms up to you, his hands coming up to wrap around your neck like a noose. His thumbs press into the center of your throat, his fingers squeezing and cutting the flow of blood to your head. He doesn’t even realize that your eyes fill with burning flames, nor does he swat your hands away as the grip his head, his anger fueling him to keep going even as your thumbs start to press into his eyes. “You can’t kill all of us,” he growls.

Your head was starting to pound, your face growing hot as you start to feel the effect of lack of oxygen, but as that happens, the build up of energy in you only grows. Your hands were burning, leaving handprint burns on his face, the heat traveling throughout his body and starting to boil him. Only then, only when his insides start to turn to soup does his grip on you disappear, the man clawing at his clothes and stumbling back as he tries to escape his fate. “You can’t-“ He falls to the ground, writhing in pain, “You can’t- You can’t escape what you are-“

You stand over him, your chest heaving as you grapple the overwhelming magic trying to find balance in your body, “What I am?” You laugh, the sound drowning out the crackling of wood and shattering of glass from the heat. “What I am?!” You crouch down, grabbing his jaw roughly with your hand and watching his eyes grow redder as his capillaries burst, “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you murmur, a feral look on your face. You push his head away before standing up, watching as his body is engulfed by flames.

You rub your throat, hissing as your fingers press against the bruising. How long would it take for them to fade? Your mother would have healed them, the skin looking perfect once more, but she was no longer here. She wouldn’t ever return. You didn’t know how long it would take for it to naturally go away. Would it be gone tomorrow? Or would it take longer? Maybe you could Google it, although that in itself was a bad idea. You adjust your backpack then hold the straps as you walk out the front door, the house caving in as its framing yields to the hungry inferno. You had no idea where to go, but you knew you couldn’t stay here. If he found you, it wouldn’t be long before others joined.

Long after the fire had burned, leaving behind smoldering embers of the house, only then did the witch dare to step out from where she had been lurking. She took a few tentative steps, looking around to see if there were any onlookers but thankfully, for their sake more than hers, there were none. She rolls her shoulders back, tilts her chin up then saunters towards the coals, each foot placement careful because she certainly didn’t want her shoes to get dirty, and this place was a tip. Why hadn’t you tidied up a little bit, hm? Your mother would be so disappointed, and besides, it’s not like you had anything better to do with your time. Ha! Oh, she makes herself laugh. She is terribly funny, a comedienne if you will.

She uses a stick to poke around the in embers, letting out a huff every time she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. She isn’t a very patient woman, and this is certainly testing every single ounce of patience she has. She was close to giving up, even though she would never actually admit to it, when she sees a glimmer of gold, “There you are,” she murmurs, flicking her coat out as she crouches down to pick the sooty toy up. She dusts it off with a grimace, the ash falling off with ease until the toy looked normal again. The beady black eyes stare into hers, a chuckle rumbling from her chest, “Take a picture, why dontcha? Get my good side.” She turns her head before laughing, “Oh who am I kidding? Every side is my good side, you flirt.” She winks at it before making her way off the rubble, dusting herself off and letting out a sound of disgust. Why did everything involve so much fucking dirt??

The witch looks at the toy once more, she could feel the protection spell emanating from it and she, better than anyone else, knew that it comes from the purest thing out there- a mother’s love. It made her sick. How could someone claim to be a good mom and do what yours did? So what if you were a little- psychotic, all the best women are! There’s nothing wrong with a little murder every now and then, it’s what makes life more interesting. And so what if you got a little pep in your step after because their energy is intoxicating? More power to ya! She loved a little energy drink too, and she certainly isn’t talking about redbull. There she goes again, making herself laugh. Her humor never ceases to amaze her.

“Who are you?” A voice asks her, making the witch whip her head around in the direction it came from. “You’re not from here. I know the faces of all the women in our coven- Well, the ones that remain, and you’re not one of them.”

A young little thing, how sweet. A little bit too big for her britches though, brazen in asking the [Redacted] who she is. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, little girl?” She asks the young woman, her eyes running over the figure before looking at her once more. “Don’t tell me… Your mother was burnt like an over-cooked chicken wing, huh? Maybe if you add a little hot sauce she’ll come back, the little zing might just-“ she gestures with her hands like she was shocking someone, “Zing her back to life.”

“Don’t talk about my mother like that,” the young woman bites back, clenching her fists beside her. She knew the risk her mother faced because she had pleaded with her not to do it, but there are laws in covens and they need to be followed, no matter the personal cost. “You can’t be here. You need to leave.”

“Aww, did I touch a sore spot, hm? Maybe I should have called her one chicken nugget from the pack of- what, seven? Did the McDonald’s workers toss an extra one in for good luck? And where’s the sweet and sour sauce?” Her own fingers were twitching by her side, the toy now safely in her pant pocket. "What is a little thing like you gonna do about it? You’re no bigger than a French-fry.”

“Stop!” The witch screams at the unknown woman. She takes a few breaths to calm herself, letting out a sigh after, “My mother told me about witches like you. I won’t let my anger make me a victim. You’re not welcome here. You must leave before the men find you, they don’t take kindly to strangers.” She takes one more look at the mystery woman before turning and heading back to her home, she would tell her father about this if she remembered.

The mystery witch lets out a frustrated groan, stomping her foot, “Ugh!” What is it with people being taught how to regulate their emotions these days!? What was wrong with the good ol’ pure unadulterated rage!? Pathetic. She rakes her fingers through her hair, the gesture soothing her before she heads on her way, the toy heavy in her pocket. It wouldn’t take much for her to find you, just follow the ashy road. Maybe she could make a song about that- follow the ashy road. You’re off to see the- the… fuck. Who were you after? Ugh.

[tsams-is-my-hyperfixation]

◀ | ◼ | ▶

[NONVERBAL SUN AU: LUNAR]

Moon skipped around. He was finally learning how to walk! Sun watched him, smiling softly. It was after hours again, with all the kids going home. Moon stopped abruptly, looking at a barrel. He then walked over to Sun, poking his shoulder. Sun turned to look at him. "What's wrong, Moon?" the solar animatronic asked. Moon blinked. "I feel weird" Moon responded. Sun sighed, as Moon sat down. Sun got on his knees and powered him off. Then, he went into the mindscape.

Moon's mind was...peaceful. It was a nice little island, with the nighttime sky shining down on it. The light of the moon illuminated the walls of a gazebo in the middle. Then, he saw something. It was quick, but Sun noticed. It looked like Moon, but it glowed. It was smaller than Moon, about 6'7. Sun walked over to the gazebo, the midnight moon shining a light that let him see. The stars glowed softly in the night sky, so beautiful it looked unreal. Sun put a hand on the door frame as he peeked inside. He saw the glowing blue eyes. "Hello?" he asked, and his voice echoed into the vast darkness surrounding him.

"Yes?" a smaller, higher voice greeted him. He flinched, surprised, but quickly gathered himself together. "Why are you in my brother's head?" Sun asked. "Head? This is my home!" the voice responded. Sun, taken aback, responded with a sharp "This isn't your home, this is my brother's head!" in which the voice replied with a raspberry sound. Sun walked in, and when the blue eyed thing tried running, he caught it. Staring it dead in the eyes, he realized it was none other than a kid. Mentally, at least.

"Who are you." Sun asked it. "I'm Lunar!" it responded. Sun, surprised, put it down. "Lunar, eh?" he said. "Tell me, Lunar, why are you occupying my brother's mind?" "Because I was made here and I live here!" Lunar responded back sharply. Sun glared at him. He was REALLY not liking this kid. "Listen. You're gonna stop causing my brother discomfort, okay?" he said sternly. "But I'm bored!" Lunar responded with, annoyed. "I'LL GET YOU SOME GAMES, ALRIGHT?" Sun snapped, making Lunar flinch under his voice. It took him a bit to realize that the guy was tearing up. He sighed in exasperation.

"Look. Sorry for yelling. I'll get you some games, okay? But stop making Moon uncomfortable." he told Lunar. Lunar silently nodded as Sun left the mindscape. When returned, Moon was powered back on, hugging him. "I feel better, brother!!!" Moon exclaimed happily, to which Sun pat his back. "Good...that's good..." he said softly. "Sunny, we must be close in EVERY universe, right?" he said happily.

"..." Sun didn't have the heart to say that a universe probably existed where nothing was as good as now. "Yeah...probably..."

I LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH!!! The island is where Moon died originally though...

Tagging people who might like it even if we aren't mutuals: @goodolddumbbanana @noinoi999 @ikamigami @multifandomcutie13 @thekillermaretwinz @inkyucu @skyuvu123 @ryomaandgundhamkin @coffee-the-bat @sen-sational @dagh0stking @ilikescience-confession-blog @tsamsconfessions123 @silly-a-777 @nosleepygay @eddwardharrison @bloodmoon-da-idiot @lunarlovesbeanbags @mo0ndr0p @sleepy-hall @a-fucking-tornado @rayofmfsunshine1201 @darksuns-beloved-pet @letthebloodrunlikeariver @astrofairy06 @sunny-sourzii @upsidedownapple @yelesomeblue @deyisacherry @zampop2 @h-didanart and literally anyone else. Half the people on here are not my mutuals and half of them are. If you would like your tag removed, just ask me and I gladly will. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[evilminji]

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

[cuprohastes]

The humans said "We sent our very best to the stars."

Well we looked at what they sent: And thought, if that's their best, what are their worst like? They were scavengers and opportunists, fast talking con artists, barely restrained psychopaths with mayhem on their mind.

Honestly we were expecting the worst: That 'human' would be a curse word, that we'd have to root them out painfully and banish them back to their dirty heavy world.

But they cleaned up Antichor. They dredged the oceans, got the ecosystem back up, cleaned the mine lakes, remediated the sludge swamps, turned the hulks into gleaming ingots.

"We knew how. We had the experience." They said.

The humans started showing up in the weirdest places. Conflicts of all sorts... and they always had questions. "Why are you doing this? What if tehy did this. What if you did that?" And it was so odd - Within weeks of the Humans showing up, common ground would be found, or reasons to get along would appear.

"Well, we're used to it. We know how to deal with conflict." They said.

And the human liars, dressed in bedazzling clothes, singing and laughing... They spun lies! For entertainment! Of better worlds, and drama, of excitement, of adventure. Thay made such spectacles - Fire in the sky of a thousand colours - smoke and lasers, costumes and music, feats of synchronised movement the Civil Worlds had barely imagined could be performed by any being let lone these strange humans...

"We know how to have a good time!" They said.

When there was a nasty little war of expansion over on the Veran worlds, we thought we'd be barely in time to document the mass graves and the scraps of planetary genocide. Expansion wars are the worst of crimes but what can you do? The settlers who are squatting on the graves of the people who came before aren't usually the ones who ordered the invasion or carried it out. And there's always some justification that can be argued over for centuries: none of which brings the dead back.

We were horrified to find the Human fleet there. Finally proof that the Humans were the worst sort of mercenary.

But the ships had aid: Shelters and food. Medical personnel. And those that did fight did so under strange rules that allowed for surrenders and retreats in good faith.

The Verans talked of the Arnath Invasion fleet: Unstoppable, claiming thier worlds before they even landed, their leaders ranting and cursing those who lived there - But then the Humans arriving like heroes of legend, in flame clad dropships, spending their lives hard, making the Arnath throw incredible effort to get nowhere... Of the mighty Rangers, each one a hero. The Bulwark infantry who wouldn't yield a single step until the civilians had been evacuated. The Medical teams as caring as any, who'd stand and fight as hard as a soldier to protect their patients.

And even before we arrived, the Arnath were losing - Humans arriving on their world and asking "Why?". Arguing with the Archons with the skill of philosophers, litigating on behalf of the Verans with cunning arguments. The clowns and entertainers with unexpected savagery, showing the population their own "heroic" soldiers burning crops and firing on children, turning the population against thier bloody handed leaders.

The soldiers returning, not hailed as heroes, their crimes documented.

"We know these crimes. We won't stand for them." The humans said.

And we started to wonder... what else did they know?

What we know now is... you can always ask the Humans, because they always send their best.

[naffeclipse]

Charm Brought It Back Pt. 5

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

Ah, here we are! The last chapter in the Hocus Pocus AU by @jackofallrabbits and me! Once more, I'm honored and thrilled to have @deliasmilkshake's cover art for the finale! I can't say how grateful I am for everyone's support and lovely comments on this little series! There's a wedding to attend, so let's get to it <3

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, and heavy touching.

———

The coolness of the woody air, cut away from the hot and claustrophobic space of the crowded gymnasium overflowing with celebration, brushes over your skin. Half-bare in your ruined sweater, you shiver. Eclipse eases you with a soft sound. His fingertips slip under your sweater and trace over your back to soothe the goosebumps prickling your flesh. Leaning deeper into him, you clutch him tightly in your arms.

You’ve never held someone so close before.

If you don’t open your eyes now, you’ll never believe this is real. The witches. The curses. The ceremony. All of it will be a dream on one cold October night while you lie in bed alone.

So you do. Little by little, you lift your cheek from his chest and tilt your head back, and behold the unnatural man, come back from the dead, who awaits your vows. His eyes glimmer gently in rich golden hues. The sharp cuts of his sun rays remind you of the encroaching sunrise, and you realize the sky is losing its stars as the black dillutes into a dawn of dark gray.

“We will have the ceremony here.” Eclipse inclines his head around you. “It may be simple, but it is only for the time being. When there is no urgency, we will celebrate properly with food and wine and the most beautiful altar. It will be to your heart’s desire, little comet.”

You look around to find what he describes as simple, and balk softly. You are not in the high school gym set in town but a clearing filled with half-dead vines twisting around the bare ground set amid shadowy trees with whispering boughs and the last of autumn’s leaves. The starlight barely reaches you. Dozens of round, orange pumpkins litter the ground around your feet. In the center of the pumpkin patch is a beautiful black wood tree with thick, bark-cracked limbs reaching high with a canopy of bright red and yellow leaves to serve as your altar. 

Behind you, smoke not unlike from the party Eclipse just whisked you away from swirls and recedes further back into the cold night, unveiling Sun and Moon. They stand tall and expectant, their hands filled with silvery threads like spider gossamer and the veil of a bride. Sun’s yellow sun rays catch your eyes like a peacock fanning its tail. Moon’s hood lays quietly over his head and casts a calm shadow over the scarlet of his eyes. The weight of their gazes fall over you.

They are here for you too. The twitch in your limbs answers to the anticipation overflowing from your core.

You breathe in deeply. There are two people missing. Turning back to Eclipse, your lips poised to ask about your friends and how the brothers might intend to shuck their curses from them, when the smoke behind Sun and Moon continues to dissolve before it reveals just the ones heavy on your mind. 

Michael and Vanessa. 

Confusion crosses Michael’s undead face. Purple flesh upon his brow shoots up in alarm before his gaze finds you in the arms of the eldest witch. At his feet, the white rabbit raises her ears high. Vanessa’s green eyes pierce you with alarm and fright most unspeakable. 

Your heart aches at the sight of them so drenched in dark magic. Reaching out a hand in a placating motion, you start to call out to them.

“Don’t!” Michael shouts overrules yours, as fierce and protective as he has been all through the night. He charges forward. “Get away from—”

Magic spills from Sun’s and Moon’s lips in a twining harmony. Their gazes are steel while their voices lift and multiply, filling the air with gales of hot and cold air before the old leaves on the pumpkin vines shudder. Creaking and crawling across the dirt, the dark green tendrils come to life and snatch Michael’s ankles, stopping him short as he struggles to remain balanced. 

Vanessa bounds towards you. Her small body leaps over pumpkins and scurries around snares of pumpkin tendrils. She dodges a snaring vine before a second, hidden one snatches her, twisting her small little form into its clutches and holding her a few inches above the ground. Her feet kick out. Her entire body struggles as she tries violently to free herself but to no avail.

“Don’t hurt them.” You clutch Eclipse’s cloak until your knuckles turn white. Pleading with your entire being, you find his gaze. “Please. They’re my friends.”

A dryness infiltrates your mouth. Will they be better than what the villagers and witch hunters feared them to be? Can you ask them to be good for you? Your core burns with yearning, the hope of a brighter day filled with peace and joy, not more darkness. Not more pain and fear.

You don’t want to lose them.

Eclipse gently covers your fists and soothes them out until your palms relax against his chest.

“They won’t be harmed,” Eclipse nods towards his brothers. His sonorous voice lowers. “Sun and Moon understand your conditions. We have brought your friends here to give you our gifts, and to ensure there are no more interruptions.”

You nod shakily. A feeble tremble lingers throughout you, raking through your fingers and along your jawline. Your witch suitors have proven again and again their capabilities for wickedness and they continue to chase it through the midnight hours, but not here. They stand still, at your service. How they terrify you. How they enchant you.

Every single night you dreamt of someone to love, someone who would keep you warm and chase away the loneliness. 

Have you found them or are you a love-sick fool still reaching for something that is not yours? 

“Run, get away from here!” Michael struggles against the vines rooting him in place. Leaves twine tighter around his corpse-like body, forcing him to his knees and leaving him bound from his ankles all the way to his shoulders, wrapped up like a cruel gift.

One glower from Sun sends one last pumpkin vine around Michael’s flesh-rotten mouth and gags him.

Vanessa twists and writhes. Her small rabbit body struggles in the grasp of the vine snare and she sinks her teeth into it, attempting to chew through the restraint while her wide, desperate eyes flash to you.

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “Stop struggling. It’s going to be okay. Please, trust me.”

Michael stops fighting. A fear and anger so raw fills his gaze as Sun and Moon step after you. His fists clench as his jawbone wiggles, but his muffle words die behind the vine covering his teeth.

A strong sound jumps from Vanessa, caught between an animalistic cry and a human sob. She looks at you. Her wide eyes shine with dread.

Eclipse takes you by the shoulders, his eyes burning low as he turns you away from the fear of your friends. You keep your eyes on both of them.

“It’s okay,” you whisper again.

“Come, come, little comet.” Eclipse recaptures your attention with a finger hooking under your chin. “The hour is nigh. Sunrise is too near for us to wait any longer.”

“I know.” Your pulse swells in your ears, beating within you like a drum to a dance that’s too fast-paced for your feet to keep up with.

Your eyes stray from his somber expression to the black tree. Between the red and yellow leaves are dozens of spiderwebs, glimmering softly like silk streamers just for the ceremony. Gently, Eclipse releases you to stand back as Sun and Moon slip around you from both sides. 

“My poppet,” Sun’s voice is sensual and warm. “Allow me to dress you in spider gossamer for this fine occasion.”

You slowly dip your head, all too confused but too uncertain to stop him as he draws out threads of silvery silk. He gently lays them upon your shoulders. His pale eyes swim with passion. A gentle murmur of magic flows from his lips, and you become enveloped in a light and cool cascade of fabric softer than rain and lighter than feathers. You look down at yourself. 

Catching the fading shimmer of magic, you are now draped in an elegant but simple silver gown. A high neck collars you with big, flowing sleeves which cinch at your wrists with thick embroidery. The skirt falls in an A-shape and flows softly in the gentle wind of the night around your feet, almost brushing the dirt.

Your wedding attire. You touch the skirt with a delicate hand as if it may fall apart like a cobweb brushed away, but instead, you watch in silent marvel at the rippling, silk-like glimmer of the cloth.

Strangely, Sun possesses your clothes in his arms now. Your mind spins with questions but you are learning all too well that the answer is magic. With a smirk, he tosses aside the holey sweater and your dirt-stained jeans. The clothes land on the shell of a large, orange pumpkin.

“Beautiful,” Sun lowers his head in pleasure, his hand at his chest and his other arm held out in a formal bow to you. “Never was there a more lovely bride for three brothers.”

You blush fiercely. 

“It is beautiful,” you admit, clutching a fistful of the skirt. You lift it and wave it back and forth once to watch it glimmer again.

“I’m not speaking of the dress, sunshine.” Sun straightens with a grin so devious, you must wonder again if you’re giving up your soul in such a ceremony.

A cool touch falls upon your hand. Claws curl carefully over your wrist. Dropping the skirt, you twist upon your feet to face Moon.

“A veil for you.” He holds it in his other hand. The delicate and sheer gossamer flows like silver water. “Lower your head. I will crown you in it.”

You bow slightly. Moon sweeps your hair back with his cool, careful fingertips and pins the veil upon your skull like a tiara. The soft, celestial fabric falls down around you. Blinking, you stare in awe at yourself, shrouded in majestic silver. 

Moon gazes at you softly. His eyes fall from your hair and he reclaims your palm for a moment to behold you entirely.

“Exquisite.” He bows his head over your hand. “I dreamt of you since Eclipse first told us what he found in his bone scrying. I have waited for you all this time, my snowflower.”

A tremble falls over your bottom lip—not of fear, though there is still an anxious sparking within your nerves. You are washed away in his sincerity. The true intentions of a lover.

You have no words, and instead, gently squeeze his hand.

“May I add one last touch,” Eclipse says. He steps forward.

You lift your head to him as his gaze glows gently in the darkness like twin stars which circle you as his brothers step back. Eclipse sets his hand on your shoulder. Your breath slows as his touch traces your collarbone and falls down your side. You almost sway under his hand holding your hip before he sinks onto one knee to trail his palm along your thigh and all the way to your calf, touching your gown all the way down.

He speaks a gentle spell. You dare not move an inch as a gentle pulse, milky and starlight-like, falls over the cloth. You burn in the darkness like a candle. The gown stands out against the darkness like a comet streaking through the night sky.

“Oh,” is all you can say as you look down at yourself. There are no words which can contain the magnitude of what you feel towards the beauty and thought of their wedding attire for you. Though Sun, Moon, and Eclipse spark and snap like flames with their wide eyes and tall statures, you twinkle bright.

Emotion cakes your throat. Thickly, you swallow it back. 

“A little starlight.” Eclipse smiles, his eyes burning sweetly. “For you are our equal, our partner, our bride.”

You don’t feel powerful. You don’t feel important enough to be involved in magic and ceremonies and love, yet here you stand, swathed in their adoration and gifts. You take hold of your skirt once more.

“Let us begin the ceremony,” Eclipse says softly. He takes your elbow and arm in arm, he walks you through a footpath worn through the pumpkin patch to the black tree, gnarled but beautiful. A most befitting altar. 

Taking your other arm is Sun, sliding close to you with a simmering smile so close to you, you wonder if the slight heat brushing against your cheek is from his presence or the blood rush in your face. Behind you, like a pale shadow, Moon tenderly takes your skirt and follows close behind, keeping the beautiful fabric from gathering dust and pumpkin fronds.

And so you go to your wedding altar.

In times before, marriage served to form alliances between families. Parents arranged such contracts for children to benefit both parties. Most couples didn’t and couldn’t marry for love, rather they were bound for purely economic liaisons.

How beautiful is it that you could arrange yourself into a marriage most lovely?

Your grooms stop at the black tree. Eclipse slips away from your hand, and you look to him in confusion, fearing where he might wander away to. The elder witch grins as he simply looks at his brother. Sun’s hand lingers on your arm, trailing down to your wrist before he steps back, still beaming, still eager, but patient.

You turn slowly under the dusting of moonlight to face Moon. A swell rises in your heart, crashing through you until you’re sticky with emotion. His expression is soft and sweet like milk and honey. He gathers your hands between his own. Looking down, Moon draws the pads of his thumbs softly over your knuckles as if wishing to memorize the bone structure of your much smaller hands.

There is no time at all, but you keep the quiet with him, studying his mild countenance. His breaths are deep and even. A gentle scent of something late and herbal laces him, and you’re taken back to the mausoleum where he tasted you.

His eyes lift. The scarlet gleam holds you tender.

“Do you take me to be your husband?” His voice is gentle in its rasp. His eyes never leave you, drinking you in like wine. “My love is yours, for time and all eternity. I will honor you dearly, little mouse.”

A soft sound catches in your throat, somewhere between a chuckle and a weeping sound. You thought joy would be without tears, but you stand, clutching his claws tightly in your fists to steady yourself.

“I do.” The moonlight brightens as the words leave your lips. You watch in silent awe as the silver glow of the night dances over you both, and you taste midnight upon your tongue as Moon smiles.

He carefully takes your veil and lifts it over your head, allowing the silver threads to fall down your back. He leans in gently. In the way the tide is tugged by the lunar celestial body, you meet him in the small space between your bodies. The witch’s kiss presses to your mouth in a gentle yearning, pushing and pulling so long as you follow in time. You fall into him. Deepening the kiss, Moon cradles your lips against the white curve of his fangs. You sigh contently as you lose your breath in his presence, starstruck.

He releases you, though only your mouth. His hands clasp yours tightly and he softly caresses the back of your hands. Tied along his wrists are deep blue ribbons. Bells jangle softly underneath.

“I will keep you unto me forevermore.” Moon traces your digits with his claw. The soft glow of his gaze fills you with his sincerity.

You sink into his words like a pool of silver. You nod deeply.

“I will cherish you,” you promise in a trembling, choked voice. The power of the engagement drapes over you, pressing upon you the great importance of this entanglement.

“Breathe, little mouse.” He smiles. “I will keep you safe.”

You laugh quietly, too overwhelmed for words but your happiness seeps through all the same.

He kisses you once more before he lifts his head high. Following his gaze, you find Vanessa has stopped fighting. Her little rabbit nose twitches fast, afraid.

Moon offers a spell, deep and cool but releasing. His voice overlaps. A scent of sharp, pungent herbs swirls on the night breeze before he nods his head once more. Your old clothes fly off of the pumpkin they were resting on, and fall onto Vanessa still tangled in the pumpkin vines. 

A moment later, in a shrouded flash of light, vines snap and clothes stretch, and there is a woman where there was once a rabbit.

Vanessa, thankfully, wears your sweater and jeans. Her green eyes fit much better in her human face as she kneels upon the ground and lifts her hands. Long blonde hair falls down around her shoulders. Slowly, she turns over her palm and clenches her fingers. No longer trapped, she gazes up at you.

Shock shines in her eyes, but her lips form soft awe.

“Vanessa,” you smile breathlessly. Whirling back, you kiss Moon once to his slight shock. “Thank you.”

“I will answer to your every desire,” he murmurs, then releases you. 

Moon slips back from you. Before you can think of reaching for him, Sun takes you into his arms. You gasp softly at the warmth of his embrace surrounding you like you were basking near an open fire.

“Sunshine, I was beginning to fear you’ve forgotten about me.” He takes you carefully, slipping your feet onto his as he begins to spin you slowly, like a star tailspinning through the atmosphere. “You could never, could you? Not when I still vye for your kiss—and now, your vows returned.”

You hold onto his shoulders. Carefully underneath the gnarled limbs of the black tree, Sun waltzes you to an unsung song. He hums slowly with a gentle rumble in his chest. His eyes upon you are hungry in the way a candle flame clings to a wick, desperate to devour but unable to spread like a wildfire. 

“No, I couldn’t forget you, Sun,” you whisper. He has left you dizzy and stunned, racing with you upon his broom and then pinning you underneath him upon a bed. There is too much you marvel about him to forget.

He twirls you gently, the moonlight blurring around you between earth and sky before he recaptures you. The threat of dawn seems so close and yet so far away from this wild pumpkin patch.

“That is all I can ask, though you must know, I want more of you.” His grin is wide but honest. How could you expect anything less from the one who has coveted you so zealously? 

His hand rests on the small of your back. Pulling you flush against him, he holds you for one breathless moment, caught like two figurines in the apex of a lovers’ dance. 

“Do you take me to be your husband?” His voice is steady, without flirtations or sultry suggestions. An honest question from a witch. “You have simply enchanted me, dove. I am at your mercy. I am at your service. And if you will, your bedside, your mornings, and your sunsets.”

Your eyelids flutter. A gentle push of tears make their way past your eyes, and you hold his wide, pale gaze. He searches your face with held breath. He clutches your hand and presses it to his chest, bared open to you. The bells tied to the dark red ribbons on his wrists jingle softly. 

“I do.” You speak with the gentleness of certainty. The leaves overhead ruffle with a breeze that is far more fitting for summer than an incoming winter. Pressed so close, you fear he must know how your heart trembles in the wonder of knowing that he loves you, and you love him. 

His expression erupts in sheer, unadulterated joy. He spins you once more, dancing as if he were walking on air before he dips you low. You intake a deep breath as he holds you above the pumpkin patch. His grin fills your entire vision as his fingers press softly into your dress. He wastes not a moment to crush your mouth in a kiss. 

His hunger and eagerness leaves you breathless as he takes and takes before he gives just as much in return. You are captured within his affection. He is smooth and practiced, and you almost feel self conscious, but gently, he leads you. He guides your lips and teases you with his teeth. Even his tongue brushes the inside of your mouth before he softens it to a trickle after the flood of his expression. You taste a sweetness that slips down your throat like honey.

Gently, he brings you back up on your feet, though he does not release you. He kisses you again, greedily taking more. You are putty in his hands, molded by his mouth as if you were a honeycomb caught between teeth. 

“Sunny,” Eclipse murmurs once in gentle warning.

Sun draws back reluctantly as if being torn from water after days in the desert. You gasp softly, your shoulders rising and falling after the rush of his love. 

“I have devoted myself to you, my poppet,” he whispers into your ear as you rest against his chest. “My love is yours and yours alone.”

“Oh, Sun,” you clutch his shoulders tighter. “I will adore you for the rest of my days.”

“I know, sunshine.” He grins but softly kisses your cheek once in a strangely rare but precious, chaste gesture. “But I must share you or else I will keep you all night.”

He straightens, his arms still encircling you. Pale eyes sweep back and you eagerly look at Michael. He’s stopped fighting as well, no longer thrashing but watching with a strange, conflicted crinkle of his brow. Vanessa kneels close by, unmoving, still staring at her legs and arms and touching her hair. 

Your entire body aches for Michael. The curse stains his flesh and twists him into a silver-screen monster. 

Sun breathes a spell. His voice fills the air in unearthly chants that sweep over the ground and whirl the leaves on the pumpkin vines. They slowly crawl back, releasing Michael just as the same bright flash of energy and power takes hold of your dear friend.

The purple corpse recedes back and unveils the man underneath. Michael’s hair returns to its warmer shade of brown. His eyes blink and his corenas return white while his irises take hold with light and life. Rotten flesh returns to a rich tan color. His torn clothes refill with his healthy size and strength. 

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Slowly, he stumbles forward. Vanessa helps catch him before he folds entirely after being freed from the witches’ curse. 

You startle—is his leg still broken? Vanessa, however, stabilizes Michael, coaxing him to sit beside her. He folds his legs with natural ease—healed and whole.

“Michael, you’re alright,” you breathe, clutching Sun together.

He gives you a nod though in a slight daze. He opens his mouth but then decides against whatever he was going to say.

“Thank you.” You turn to Sun. “Thank you for sparing him.”

“Anything for our bride,” he simpers. With a great sigh, however, he lets go of you, his fingertips trailing over your sides before falling back beside Moon.

Under the black tree, Eclipse stands, patient but enduring.

You face him. He lifts his head but remains humble and composed before gently approaching. The light of a new day is beginning to change from deep gray to a burning orange leaking rosy pink at the edges. The sunrise is as terrifying as it is promising.

Eclipse opens his arms to you. Without hesitation, you enter his embrace as his hand finds your cheek. Tied tight around his wrist is a black ribbon with golden bells. His claws rest delicately on your hip over the silky soft fabric of your gown. Lightly, his thumb caresses your cheek. The gold of his gaze falls over you, gentle as the night. 

“Little comet,” he says, steady despite the impending light threatening to take away all. Yet, he takes his time, tasting his words before giving them to you. “Do you take me to be your husband? I have waited—”

In a heart rush, you utter, “I do.”

Eclipse stares, eyes wide. His red sun rays catch the first glance of daylight, brightening his vision as if a spotlight fell upon him. He looks towards the horizon as you do. You squint slightly against the brightness.

Lifting his hand from your face, he watches the black ribbon and bells dissolve into dark smoke, then nothing. Sun and Moon turn their wrists as the respectful dark red and deep blue ribbons fall away from them as if burned and leave not a wisp behind. 

You take Eclipse’s hand and draw it closer to you, gently kissing his knuckles before smiling.

“You’re free. You’re all free.” You flush deeply as you look to Sun and Moon and their gazes of content awe. “My husbands.”

A soft, strange sound leaves Eclipse. A breath caught between wonder and something deeper, something roiling with adoration. His gaze falls back to you, and again, he touches your cheek. 

“I did not finish my vows to you.” He cradles your face close in his palms, leaning closer as your eyes lock. “I swear to you happiness, protection, and my unending love. From this day on, you will always be warm. You will always have my hand to hold. You will never fear the darkness for I will be with you.”

He pauses, his grin spreading wide. He looks at you as if you were a dream. A living, breathing vision. 

“We are eternally bound to you, our spouse.” Eclipse leans in close. “Say my name, once more.”

Your eyelids slip close for one precious moment, warmed by the brilliant light, and the touch of Eclipse’s hands cradling you as if you were delicate. 

“Eclipse,” you whisper.

His grin is beautiful and lovely. You start as you feel a second pair of arms surround you. Sweeping you off your feet, Eclipse lifts you into his embrace. This close, he smells of gentle spice and musk. 

He strokes your cheek once before closing the distance between your lips. You feel his hunger in the echo of your own—the want to devour but gently, he tastes you. A soft whine catches in the back of your throat. Melting under his warmth, he invades you gently and his tongue brushes against your own. His kiss takes you under, and you drop breathlessly into his grasp.

He pulls and takes in soft, sweet motions. Rhythmic and powerful, he tastes you until you fear you might fall once more. But he will catch you. This much you are certain.

He pulls back gently, kissing you one last time as if in need of the strength it gives him, before his honeyed gaze settles on you.

“Your freckles are beautiful, like the stars upon the night sky,” he says. He kisses the right side of your face, then glides to the left and lingers there a moment. “You are truly staying with us, my little comet.”

You blush, and cling to him. Your hands, however, are gently tugged. You look away from Eclipse to find Moon curling his claws under your digits and lifting your hand sweetly to his mouth. Eclipse shifts you gently in his arms to rest you against his back while keeping you cradled like a bride on her wedding night—you suppose you are such a bride, Sun’s hand traces from your shoulder down your arm until he captures your hand. There, he kisses your knuckles slowly. You close your eyes, bubbling in the blissful sunlight as your husbands adore you.

A kiss like the brush of a moth wing touches your head. Eclipse hums gently against you. You make a soft, sweet sound at their tender affection.

“My husbands,” you say, then laugh a little, beaming at their gentle looks. “I’m going to have to get used to saying that.”

“You will,” Sun purrs, “And there’s so much time for us to grow used to our lovely spouse.”

“So much time,” Moon rasps gently, “You must be exhausted.” He kisses your fingertips until you shiver and blush.

“Perhaps we should take our bride home,” Eclipse suggests gently. “You can sleep in our bed and rest, and when you wake, we’ll celebrate more.”

You stir at the thought. You won’t drive back to your tiny apartment. No, instead you will stay here with your husbands, and the bed you will sleep in will be warm and filled with their bodies. 

You won’t wake up alone.

“I’d like that.” You squeeze Sun’s and Moon’s hands and turn your head back to gaze at Eclipse with a fond smile.

A quiet voice says your name. You turn your head, stunned to find Michael and Vanessa stepping towards you. Vanessa supports Michael’s arm around her shoulders as his strength seems to wane. Their eyes are mirrors of witch hunters from long ago as they behold the brothers holding their virgin bride.

Claws tighten around you. Moon flashes his sharp teeth as Sun lifts his chin high, looking down at the pair with disdain. The arms holding you off the ground squeeze in the slightest until you wriggle. Eclipse nearly keeps you away, but gingerly, he sets you back on your feet.

Michael holds your gaze, his brow crinkled in concern but restored to his natural health. 

“Are you really staying with them?” he asks quietly, his gaze darting sharply to the witches.

You smile at the slight shifting around you. The drape of Moon’s cloak almost falls over your shoulder as he takes your hand close and caresses your arm. A murmur of wishing to return them both to rabbits falls from Sun’s lips, but he merely interlocks his digits between your own. Behind you, Eclipse draws a tender hand down your back, feeling the ridges of your spine through the delicate fabric of your gown. 

“I love them.” You look at your husbands. Their faces brighten, their touches softening upon you. “I’m staying.”

“What do we do now?” Vanessa asks. Her face looks lost, and you imagined after a few centuries of only guarding the starry candle, she must be. 

You muse for a moment, and survey your husbands with a careful air. “Is your home now my home?”

“Of course,” Eclipse answers without hesitation. “Everything that is ours is yours.”

“Then I may invite my friends inside?”

Sun and Moon exchange a glance, Sun more annoyed than Moon’s mild surprise, but they both incline their heads.

“If that is your wish,” Moon gives gently.

“It is.” You squeeze their palms. “We can start a proper home, and we can learn how to forgive.”

“Forgive?” Vanessa balks. 

“Yes.” You look at her as the bright light of day touches her face. Her eyes are truly green and sharp like cut emeralds. “Let’s get out of this pumpkin patch and go home and rest. Then we can make peace.”

Michael looks down at Vanessa. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, unlike my ancestor.” His brow is set firm. To your awe, Michael does not tremble with rage or the need to fight again. Perhaps the witches are beginning to prove themselves, and Michael will give them a chance. Just one chance.

“Very well then, my poppet.” Sun turns to you and kisses you in a sudden burst of heat and passion before he releases you. Stunned, you almost sway but Eclipse wraps an arm around your waist. Sun gestures with his free arm in an open invitation. “Enter our humble abode. You are our spouse’s guests, which means you are ours.”

Vanessa glares at him. Her foot falls down on a withered vine and it cracks. 

“Charming as ever, Vanessa.” Sun flashes his teeth in a grin.

“Sun,” you chastise. 

He rubs your wrist, half apologetic. 

“I will make soup.” Moon muses. “My cauldron pot is where I left it, I hope.”

The heaviness in the air reminds you that the night has been long, and you are dreadfully exhausted. Vanessa and Michael barely hold themselves upright, but they lean on each other.

“Excellent.” Eclipse waves his hand. Smoke seeps up from the ground, swirling around your feet before you close your eyes, and lean into the pillars of your husbands for support. 

The air changes. A slight breeze, warm for October, encircles you. You inhale a gentle scent of rich earth and dust. When you open your eyes again, the brothers’ home is standing before you, same as it ever was, but entirely changed. 

Perhaps it’s only you who has changed, now hanging on to the witches. 

Michael and Vanessa are just behind you and the witches, standing on the gravel outside of the home, disgruntled about the change of scenery or perhaps the use of magic, but you hope they’ll see the possibility of goodness within the brothers as you have.

Eclipse’s hand slips under your chin to lift your head back. His expression warms with the bright new day. Sun kisses your fingertips until you shiver in delight. Moon turns your palm over to reach the delicate lines of veins along your wrist, and presses his lips to your pulse.

“We are home,” Eclipse says. He kisses the top of your head.

You are home with your husbands.

[hyperfixat]

hehe here's this 2k brain rot that @suiana's post gave me (permission proof - not a thief!)

i turned caelus into a they them not sorry. also if the formatting is odd, i’m on my pc and i usually use my phone so.

They’re back.  Again.  

March has to stifle the screams of anger she wants to let out as the shackles of stillness finally free her.  Like ice melting Caelus and Dan Heng begin to move around, continuing where they had left them stranded and abandoned, left to stay stagnant at their whim. 

The worse thing is that she can’t even complain, not for lack of desire to do so, no, no she physically cannot voice her complaints.  And March knows she isn't crazy, she’s caught the twinge of annoyance in Welt’s eyes when he unpaused; seen the ghost of a scowl on Seele’s face; even the carefully controlled hardened gaze of Dan Heng has cracked before.

The Trailblazer is the only one who hasn’t cracked, obediently stopping when they will them to do so, and ever so happy to come back at their will.  March wants to corner them and ask how and why, if they know what's going on, but alas: she must trot along with her friends at their wicked will.

Dan Heng doesn't know what you are, because surely you can’t be an Aeon.  Aeons don’t hold the powers you do, even if they did surely there would be some record of you in the archives, right?  No Aeon dead or alive has the ability to puppeteer humans, and it frightens him that there is something out there that is using him in such a way.  It embitters him, both the unknown surrounding them and the way he is treated; how his whole world is put on a pause while he remains aware.  Aware of how the breeze stills and the stars stop twinkling, how the world goes silent.  What could hold such power? 

A shudder runs down his spine as he follows the Trailblazer’s party.

Welt has witnessed a lot in his time.  Nothing quite like them, though.

Himeko has witnessed a lot in her time.  Nothing quite like them, though.

Bronya, Seele, Sampo, and Natasha have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.

Yukong, Loucha, Fu Xuan, and Jing Yuan have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.

Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.

The different paths they all walk may intervene, as their personalities and beliefs may differ but there is one truth they can all agree on.

They hate you.

Caelus doesn’t.  Rather, Caelus can’t help but love you; you gave them life and led them through their trials.  You keep them safe and armored. You help them find the words to face others when their mind goes blank. 

To Caelus you are the world.

The Aeons came to know of you when Dan Heng’s frantic searches focused on them for a little too long.  While he was scanning the records they saw you.  You were intriguing from the get go, a pretty thing, sitting comfortably as a figure in the sky. The Preservation and The Nihility, whose current forms allow for more ease with floating went as far as they could to reach you.

Yet you remain just out of reach of the Aeons.

The Abundance uses one of her many arms to steady herself as she crawls along the very fabrics of their reality to get a closer look at you.  And what a darling thing you are!  Excitement that she hasn’t felt in a long, long time, perhaps for the first time ever fills her up inside.  With a shaky hand, she motions for the other Aeons to take a closer look at you.

From there the… shall we say, worship, began.

Nanook, The Destruction, takes note of your fondness for certain characters, and what his darling likes, he likes, so when the Antimatter Legion he has blessed come across the ones you are fond of, their attacks are lighter and they lose his blessing temporarily.  Sure, he wished some of the gushing from beyond the sky was for him, but you so rarely see his face on the screen (only ever in the Simulated Universe you put that Caelus through) he can’t blame you.

IX, The Nihility, will not change in their ways, not even someone like you can shift the nihilism they embody, but, perhaps you don’t notice it, your teams deal better damage over time, don’t they?  Don’t take their blessings lightly, it took a lot to bring them there.

Yaoshi, perhaps makes it the most obvious (despite you never noticing), your favorite vessels get a wonderfully boosted health bar.  You never knew to question how Blade managed to get nine thousand hit points.

It’s hard to pinpoint who thought of it first, perhaps IX or Fuli, but the Aeons, the strongest Aeons, gathered to pull you down from beyond the sky.  Through a (top secret) ritual you find yourself being hurtled down like a meteor into the freezing snow of the Outlying Snow Plains. 

…

You wake to the kind face of Caelus, which is a bit odd because he’s not supposed to be so… high res.  Or real.

“Are you alright, My Lord?”  The title doesn’t immediately resonate with you, so you disregard hearing it.  When you don’t answer right away they frown in worry, hands moving to yours, gently covering them with their warmth.

“What happened?  Why am I here?”

“You fell from the sky, do you not remember?”

“No,” what sky would you have fallen from?  You tend to stay on the ground.

Caelus worries their bottom lip and helps you sit up.  “Oh.”  There’s a pause.  “Did you not mean to come here? I thought….”

“Hm?” You prod, gently encouraging them to talk.

“I thought you were coming to see me,” their face is tinged pink and facing down in their lap.  Caelus’ hands feel hot and you rush to reassure them.

“I’m glad to see you, but I don’t know how or why I’m here,” you pause, cringing internally.  “Caelus.”  Fuck, that is their name right?  No last minute changes?

Luckily their face lights up when you say it and you find yourself pressed into their soft chest, their arms around you in a bear hug. 

“You’re really them.”  A breathy, ecstatic phrase.  Their face buries into your hair and Caelus doesn’t loosen their hold until a knock at their door.

“Trailblazer!  Pompom here, requesting an update on Their Grace’s status.”  

Caelus gently detaches themself from you and opens the door to reveal the tiny rabbit-oid conductor.  Pompom bashfully rubs their hands together when they catch sight of you awake and looking at them.

“Hello, Your Grace, Pompom is glad to see you awake and healthy.”  

What a cute creature, you think.  “Thank you, Conductor Pompom.”

They let out a squeak at your words and nod.  “Pompom needs to go check in on the other passengers, but let Pompom know if you need anything, okay, Your Grace?”

“Oh, thank you Pompom.”  They hurry away, stubby feet padding quickly down the carpeted halls.  You turn your head to Caelus, “what was that about?”

“Hm?”  Their golden eyes meet yours, head tilting.

“Why did they call me those things, Your Grace?”  

“Because you are our God above Aeons.  Do you… were you somehow unaware of that?”

The words hit you like a freight train.  “No, I’m not.”  It’s all you can think to say.

Caelus sits next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your knee.  “Yes you are.  We can feel it.  You are the one that controls this world and gives us life.”

Controls this world… and gives them life… fuck, the game… you’ve been playing these sentient beings.  Your tummy hurts at the knowledge . 

“Oh, I’m— I’m sorry.”  Your eyes prick with tears, the gravity of what you’ve been doing; how you’ve dragged these people into battles for fun.  You couldn’t have know, but it doesn’t stop the guilt eating at you.

“No, no, what are you apologizing for?”  Caelus’ hands cup your face, a finger catching the tears that drip over the brim of your waterline.  Their voice drops to a whisper, “please don’t cry, My Lord.”

You suddenly feel very watched, like a million eyes are on you.  Caelus never closed his door.  You look up and catch sight of March 7th’s glare.  The intensity of it makes you flinch back, making Caelus look up, over to:

“March, don’t give them that look.”  They scold the girl, who turns the withering look to them.

“Why are you taking care of that monster?  We told you to leave them to freeze in the snow.”  The words make your heart sink.  Being on this side of such venomous words stings, especially from someone you never would have pegged to be so hateful.

Caelus bares thier teeth, a mix of offense and hurt on their face.  “And I told you I would do no such thing to our God.”

“That is no God.”  Her voice shakes as does her head, before turning around and walking away.

“Don’t listen to her.” Caelus shakes their head in disappointment. “She doesn’t understand what all you do for us.  Please don’t hold it against her.”

…

They, the Astral Express, do not like you.  Caelus and Pompom do, they hold you in reverence, which is better than how March, Himeko, Welt, and Dan Heng treat you.  It’s all dirty looks and only partially veiled insults.  Caelus gets into arguments with them over you.  

You hate to think that you’re harming the friendships between them, and when you brought your concern up, Caelus dismissed you saying you are worth it all.  

Yeah, there’s that.  You’ve tried to explain that you are not God, but they won’t hear you out.  :(

It’s a perfectly normal day on the Astral Express when the Aeons come. 

Nanook is the first one to descend into the Parlor Car; Caelus and Dan Heng immediately drawing their weapons, The Destruction laughs once, eyes moving to focus solely on you.

“It’s so good to see you, My darling Lord.”  His voice is low and deep, and the gold flowing freely from the wounds (?) on his arms leaves a trail on the carpet as he approaches to kneel in front of you.  From your peripheral you see Dan Heng and Caelus share a look before lowering their respective weapons.

Nanook, you recognize him from the Simulated Universe blessings screen, grabs your hand, gracing the back of your palm with a chaste kiss.  His golden eyes peek up at you from behind long lashes.

“How has the Express been treating you?  I regret not being able to welcome you to this existence, but alas the ritual took a lot out of us…”

What.

“Oh, uh,” your eyes flicker around the cabin nervously.  “I’m doing alright, th-thanks…”

“Now, now, don’t tease the poor thing,” a beautiful woman (Aeon) walks in, one with many, many arms draped in soft looking, white cloth.  Yaoshi’s eyes soften when she meets your gaze.  “Hello, Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you in the flesh.”

Caelus, Dan Heng, March, everyones’ (save for you and the two Aeons) bodies droop, posture faltering.  IX, The Nihility, has arrived.  An odd feeling, akin to that of a weighted blanket, is pushed onto your body.  It’s them, their astral, cosmic form much smaller than what should be made of their status, laying on your body like a boa.  They don’t speak, though you aren’t  sure they could in this form.

Yaoshi’s eyes flicker with amusement, and Nanook pulls himself up.  “The others were unable to make it, but,” her gaze chills and is directed at the crew of the Express.  “We all wish to make it known that disrespect, anything short of reverence toward Our Grace, will not be tolerated.”

Welt visibly shudders at the threat, and Himeko shares a look with Dan Heng.  They need to reflect on how they feel towards you, tha much is certain.

[colonelarr0w]

Just a random, domestic scenario that I thought of about Astarion and it made me soft enough to put into writing.

Picture this …

Astarion, especially after everything that he’s been through with Cazador, definitely has to re-teach himself what it means to love without primarily focusing on physical intimacy. Everything that he’s ever known about loving someone, or rather, everything that he thought that he knew about loving someone is restricted solely to sex.

Of course, his understanding of love drastically changes when you waltz into his life. You with your words of affirmation, you with your soft hands, you with the hugs and kisses that don’t necessarily lead to something more. It strikes him as odd … why is it that you saw past his body and looked at him? Really, truly looked at him.

In the beginning, it scares him. It invokes a feeling in him that he wasn’t able to define, and in truth, it scared him. It scared him that every time your arms wrapped around him or every time your lips touched his, he felt warm. For a second, for one singular split second, Astarion felt alive.

And because of that, he pushed you away. It scared him even more when you actually let him.

“We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” you’d told him one night. You were sitting up beside him, his head resting beside your thigh while his eyes stared up at the flickering night sky. “I have no problem waiting for you.”

And wait for him you did. Never once did you pressure him into anything, never once did you make him feel as if your touch was anything but comforting — you didn’t want him to revert back to the mindset that he had become so accustomed to. When he reached for you, you did the same. And if he didn’t, you never grew angry with him.

For that, he was thankful.

All of your waiting comes to a head one night at the camp’s fire. As usual, you sit at Astarion’s side, both of you sitting in a comfortable silence. His fingers itch to hold yours, but he wills himself to stay completely still — even though he wants to hold and touch you, something in him roots him to his place, preventing it.

“Astarion?” He turns at the sound of your voice, blinking away the glazed look that had pained his eyes in favor of looking at you instead. Your eyebrows pinch together, creasing the space between your eyes. “Are you alright love?”

“Fine,” he answers, voice dead and cold. You hum, nodding your head, not prying any further. Even though he certainly doesn’t want to speak about what plagues his mind, a small part of him also wished that you would pry — likely because he knew that eventually, he would crack.

But you don’t. Because you understand the possibility that he would shut himself away further, retreating back to a place where you might not be able to reach him. “Alright, but if something is bothering you, you know that I am here for you.”

“That’s what … scares me,” Astarion whispers, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the camp’s fire. You turn your head to him, gaze catching his profile, silently waiting for him to continue. “Why do you stay … knowing that what you give isn’t reciprocated?”

His question catches you off guard. Was that what was bothering him? His inability to reciprocate the love that you so easily gave to him? Your heart sinks, eyes softening as you angle yourself to look at Astarion fully. The intensity of your gaze makes him feel as if you’re looking through him — through the flirtatious facade that he had put up constantly and seeing Astarion. Seeing ‘Little Star.’

Your silence worries him; makes him feel as if what he had asked you was wrong. Your lips are pressed into a firm, thin line with your eyes focused so intently on his own. Astarion feels as if you’re analyzing him … judging him. But you’re not, and he knows that you’re not.

“Because I don’t do the things that I do expecting it to be reciprocated,” you answer easily, allowing your lips to turn upward into a soft smile. A smile that begins to melt away the iceberg of worry nestled somewhere in Astarion’s chest. You inhale deeply, holding your hand up with your palm facing Astarion. “Here, if you’re okay with it, I want you to lay your palm against mine.”

Astarion’s eyes narrow, confused. His gaze flickers between your upheld palm and your eyes, which hold no ounce of malice or ill intent. Hesitantly, and very slowly, he lifts his palm. And slowly, very slowly, he brings it towards your own, laying it flat against yours.

Shockingly, the touch doesn’t burn. It doesn’t leave behind a searing scar that he would look at with distaste. Instead, it fills him with a comfortable warmth, one that reinforces the genuine love that you feel for him. The love that extends far beyond physical intimacy, far beyond sex — far beyond anything that Astarion had ever experienced.

“Something as small as this,” you say, not moving your palm from against Astarion’s, “is enough reciprocation for everything.”

He remains silent, watching you. You smile, and as if running on autopilot, he returns it.

[aritsukemo]

Your 25th Birthday | Multiple Characters

Characters: Obanai Iguro, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyojuro Rengoku, Zenitsu Agatsuma, and Kanae Kocho

Warnings: Angsty themes ahead! Takes place after the canonical events of Demon Slayer but in an au where the characters who died survive! Reader is crippled in a few of these ( Kyojuro's s/o especially has been through hell and is heavily implied to be paralyzed from the waist down. There are also implications that she's been burned, cut up, etc. ) so read at your own risk!

Summary: It's the night before their marked!s/o's 25th birthday! How do they spend it with them? 🤔

A/N: I wrote this scenario over on Wattpad for a special and I really liked how it came out so I wanted to share some of my favorite parts over here on Tumblr! Hope you enjoy it! 😁

"Do you think we'll meet each other in every life?" The question was whispered out in the dead of night as you sat on the engawa of your estate. Obanai sat next to you, being used for both support and a source of comfort. You watched the stars twinkle in the sky, a forgone look in your eyes that he's never seen before. It was unnerving to him since it felt like he was staring at a breathing corpse..

 "Of course. If that's what you want, I'll find you in every life," He answered to which you hummed, your expression unchanging from the one of unsettling contentment.

 "What if something happens to prevent us from being together?" You muttered grimly despite the smile painted on your face. Obanai was quicker answering this time around, "Nothing would prevent me from being with you. Nothing."

 "Even if I'm a total jerk?" You questioned. He answers, "Even if you're a total jerk."

 "Even if we're on opposite sides of the world?" You continued. He answers, "Even if we're on opposite sides of the world."

 "Even if I turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat you?" And then he pauses. You giggle at him despite the bad taste the lack of answer gives you and mutter out a soft, "Sorry. That was mean of me to ask. Forget—"

 "Even.." This time, you pause. Your head bobbing back to look up at him and those marvelous mismatched eyes of his. He's already looking at you by that time. He's been doing so the entire time, never once glancing at the night sky since the two of you sat down.

He continues, "..Even if you turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat me," He says, "I can't promise that we would be together in that life, but in the afterlife, I'd do everything in my power to make you the happiest person in the world."

You hadn't realized it until he moved his hand from your waist and started rubbing at your cheeks that you had started crying. Even when you did realize it, you didn't do anything besides let the tears fall because even if you wanted to wipe away the tears, you had long lost feeling in your arms to do so.

In the end, you smother your face into his haori, not caring that you suddenly felt the cool scales of Kaburamaru as he wrapped himself snugly—but not too tightly—around your neck.

 "Thank you.." You sniveled as your tears wet his shoulder, "Thank you so much for loving me, Obanai.." 

 "Thank you for allowing me to love you, Y/n," He said back as he let you stain his shoulder with your tears.

"Awh, don't cry, pretty girl.. Not over me," You cooed as your fingers ran through the pink of Mitsuri's hair. She was hunched over on the bedside, face in your lap and her fat, wet tears dripping down her stained cheeks—passing the moles under her eyes that you love to kiss—and splashing onto your kimono.

She had worked so hard trying to mentally prepare herself for tonight, but when she entered the room and saw your tired, smiling face staring back at her, she broke down.

There was still so much she wanted to do with you! So many dates she wanted to take you on! So many foods she wanted to cook and try with you! So many firsts she still hasn't been able to take from you and so many firsts you haven't had the time to take from her! So many memories she still wanted to make with you!

Why can't she be given just a little more time with her sweetheart? She gets that this sacrifice was a necessary one and she wouldn't be here otherwise if it weren't for you pushing yourself the extra mile and saving her, but she can't help the sinking feeling of regret that drags her heart down to her stomach by a chain of sorrow at the thought of you leaving..

 "I- I'm..so sorry.." She managed to say between sobs, "I'm.. I'm sorry...I.."

 "Sorry for what, honey?' You asked her in a tender tone, "You haven't done anything wrong."

 "I.. I.." She takes a moment, unable to form a proper sentence without choking on her own sobs, "I'm sorry for being such a horrible wife!" Now, you certainly weren't expecting that out of all things..

Your brows furrow as your hand stills in her hair, "You aren't a bad wife, honey," You said, trying your best to sound firm despite the slight tremor in your voice from exhaustion.

 "Yes, I am!" She wailed, "I haven't been able to do anything for you! You.. You were always the one caring for me and I haven't been able to fulfill any of your needs or do anything you should be proud of!"

 "Hey, hey, hey," You shushed, "Look at me..please," And she listens immediately like a puppy at your beck and call. She lifts her head, her big green eyes puffy and filled to the brim with tears despite the constant stream that flows down her pink, warmed cheeks.

 "You are an amazing wife, alright? Marrying you was the best thing to ever happen to me," You told her, putting a slight pause between each word to better emphasize your statement. You used your fingers to urge her to come closer and she complies, inching closer until she's close enough so that you could cup her face.

 "You simply waking up and smiling at me everyday is enough for me. Seeing you happy and healthy is enough for me, do you understand me?" You asked, the shake in your voice getting worse, "You've done everything to satisfy me. If anything, I should apologize to you for not granting your wishes."

What are you talking about? There's no way you seriously think that, right?

 "No! Don't apologize!" Suddenly pushing herself up with her arms, her face suddenly got so close to yours that you had to move your had back so that you two didn't accidentally bump heads, "My wish was to marry someone who'd love me for me.. Wh-.. Who'd love my freakish strength and my weird hair color and my abnormal appetite and you've done that better than anyone ever could!" As she talks, her cool tears drip onto your warm hands and scatter upon contact, "You've made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and you've spoiled me at every turn! You've made my life feel like it was worth living, so please—!" She moves forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and putting her tearful face into your shoulder, "Don't downplay your hard work! I can't bear you doing that after you've given so much to me!"

And with that, she crumbles all over again on your shoulder, and to your surprise, you do too. As her grip loosens and she slides down your body, ending with her head at your lap once again and bawling into it, you felt your eyes welling up with tears.

 "Mitsuri.." Your throat began to ache from trying to keep your voice steady as your bottom lip began tremble. You tried to control yourself further by slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle a sob that threatened to slip from your lips, but your tears rolled from your eyes without your permission and down your hand, dripping onto your beloved before you could catch them with your other hand..

In the end, a particularly loud hiccup sounded your defeat and you bowed your head. Your hands sliding over your face as you cried with the former Love Hashira who you are grateful to call your spouse in this life. 

"It's been a while since I've seen that expression on your face," You said as you gazed up at the prettiest woman you've ever laid your eyes on. Her thin brows dipped and wrinkling her smooth, porcelain-like skin just like the thin line she made with her lips, which you notice twitch just a tad at your comment.

She doesn't say anything to retort what you said. Not a witty remark or sarcastic, irritated utterance or a flowery deflection leaving her pink-painted lips. She simply gazes down in silence, her polished thumb rubbing lines into the back skin of your hand in a steady motion. It causes your eyes to frown and otherwise droop as you realize that your simple attempt at relieving the tense atmosphere in the room has failed.

 "Shinobu," You call, "Can you smile for me?" And she listens, her brows lifting just like her lips as they form into that perfect smile that took her years to perfect. Just the sight of it makes you frown.

 "Not like that. I want to see a genuine smile.." You mutter and just like that, her smile drops and her brows knit together once again. This time, though, it's all brought together by the vein flexing on her forehead.

 "How am I suppose to do that when my wife is dying in front of me?" She asks, voice quiet and complimented by a vexed tone. In the past, you always hated when she got mad at you. Seeing her so visibly irked was frightening, even more so when it was directed at you..

But right now, hearing her angry tone and seeing her infuriated expression brought you nothing but comfort and caused your smile to return. She notices it and it pushes her to ask you in an exasperated tone, "How can you do that?"

You blink, confused "Do what?"

 "Smile," She tells you, "You of all people know what's about to happen, but you still smile at me.."

 "What's wrong with that? Can't I smile at the woman I fell head over heels for until I stop breathing?" You egg on and that little nudge is all she needs to be pushed over the edge and for her to explode and for tears of pure frustration to fill her eyes.

 "Stop joking around!" Her voice comes out raised and aggressive, like an angry dog ready to attack someone. She must've realized that, because she grits her teeth and sucks in a breath. Taking a few seconds to collect herself a little before continuing. Her voice was still brimming with anger, but sounding more controlled.

 "You're going to die any minute now. Don't you understand that? You're going to pass away and leave everything behind..you're going to leave me alone here.. You know all of that, yet you still smile at me without a hint of regret or sadness, and I'm sorry, but I can't stand looking at you like that!"

 "Why would I have regrets?" You ask, "I achieved all my goals and did everything I wanted to do in this lifetime. Kibutsuji is dead. There are no more demons terrorizing the innocent. And, I was able to live the rest of my years surrounded by the ones I love and cherish. I even got the bonus of becoming a Kocho and marrying the woman of my dreams," You say, rubbing at your finger as the ring on it flashes in the moonlight that shines down through the singular window in the room, "What's there to regret?"

 "What about the fact that everything is coming to an end? You won't be here to make memories with me or any of your friends or family?" As the tears fall down her cheeks, Shinobu finds herself balling her hands into fists. She despised crying, especially when in the presence of others, but she couldn't control herself. Like an immature little kid, she couldn't control her emotions and her blood boiled all the more because of it.

 "I'll always be here, even if it's not physically," You told her softly and she starts matching your tone, although the agitation in hers is still so apparent.

 "Be serious for one second, Y/n," She snapped, only for you to follow up with, "I've been serious this entire time, love."

 Then her tone raises again, "No, you haven't!" And then it falls again as she lets out an embarrassing choke, "T- There's..no way you have. How could you possibly be fine with this?"

 "Because I know that as long as the people I love are still here to remember me and value that time I spent with them, I'll never truly die.. At least..not in their eyes," You tell her, ignoring the fact that Shinobu is starting to become harder and harder to see by the second.

Shinobu sobs and chokes die down after a while. By that time, your eyelids started feeling like paper weights; unbearably heavy. You tried to play it off by blinking slowly, but your wife caught on quickly. She could tell you were hitting your limit and you thought that'd it make her anger spike again or cause her another breakdown, but neither happened. Instead she surprised you by curling her lips upwards. Her eyes were red from crying and you couldn't see it well, but the corner of her brows twitched. Her cheeks was also stained pink, likely from embarrassment of having broke down in front of someone, even if that someone was her own wife.

To put it frankly, she was a mess with a smile painted over it. But it was genuine and from the heart and that was enough to satisfy you.

The afternoon glow of the sky shone down on you as you stuck your hand, which had a handful of rice in it, out to a dog. Sanemi watched, looking like a little kid experiencing their first crush, as the dog barely hesitated to come closer and begin liking at your hand.

The scene was like a painting come to life. You were all dressed up in an expensive kimono he bought you. Your hair was styled in a way to match your attire and to frame your face, which was powdered in elegant, nice-looking makeup. And, you had a smile on your face as you gave the dog a similar look a mother would give her child while rocking them to sleep in her arms.

That thought reminded him of how he could never bring himself to make you a mother. How he feared that he wouldn't be able to bear the sight of your child, who'd undoubtedly resemble you in some kind of way, after your passing. Or, how he feared he'd accidentally end up just like his monstrous, asshole of a father and you'd stare at him with the same fright in your eyes as his mother did to his father.

He's not cut out to be a dad. Never was. And it's a shame because Sanemi knows you'd make an excellent mother. Thinking about it puts a bad taste in his mouth and in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts, he huffs out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. He can't risk thinking of something so disheartening and make himself sad. You proposed taking a walk around to clear his head of such thoughts after all and he doesn't want your efforts to go to waste.

 "Sanemi," He blinks. How long were you calling his name? He stares at you once again and this time, you're turned and staring over your shoulder at him, who's sat on the steps, your hand now running through the dog's fur. Your smile is still there, but your eyes are dimmed with concern. The sight makes him feel guilty as it dawns on him that he probably worried you.

 "Are you alright?" You asked and he responds to you quickly, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Maybe it was because of how fast he answered you, but you didn't seem convinced. You kept staring at him with a woeful, skeptical look and it broke him, so he rephrases his previous statement, "I was just..thinking about stuff."

 "What kind of stuff?" You asked, your hand leaving the dog's at last and getting up from your crouched position in front of the dog, "Want to talk about it?"

 "No," He replied, but you walked up to him and sat beside him on the steps anyways and he sighs and says, "I promise it's nothing. Today is your day, so let's do something that focuses on you."

He sees your smile widen, and he finds himself unable to keep eye contact with a work of art such as yourself. He looks away from you, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He then hears that addicting laugh of yours and he feels his heart thrumming in his chest. Gosh, you were going to be the death of him..

 "You're such a sweetheart," No he isn't, was what he wanted to say but decided against it to spare both of you an unnecessary argument. It's a known fact that he's the farthest thing from sweet. That said, when he's in your presence, he can't help but be overly gentle with you. He can't help but touch and caress you as if you were made of priceless gemstones. He can't help but pamper you like you're some kind of princess. That's probably why your perception of him is so skewed compared to others.

You are the only person alive who has that perception of him. You are the only person alive who can set his skin ablaze with something as simple as a poke of your finger. You are the only person alive who'd devote your limited time on making him feel the way you have. You are the only person alive who still saw him a kind light while whispering endearments and kissing him and feeling him years ago when many people around him saw him as a monster.

..And someone so kind, so caring, so compassionate..will no longer be in this world soon. You, who always looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world will soon perish because you disregarded your own wellbeing during the war and gave your all to bring an end to that abomination named Muzan Kibutsuji.

 "Y/n.." He calls, still not looking at you. You hum, waiting on him to continue. Certainly not expecting him to ask, "Would you be willing to waste another lifetime loving me?"

A silence grew between you two and Sanemi would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt not hearing a response from you. He expected it though.

 "I don't have much to offer you in this life and I wouldn't be surprised if the same goes for the next. I also can't promise I'll act any better. ..Tch, there's a better chance that I'll be more of a prick in my next life—"

 "I would," He grows silent, finally turning his head towards you so that he could look you in the eyes. So that he could scan your facial expression. So that he could find proof that you were lying in your statement just now. But, he doesn't find anything of the sorts and it makes him feel sick—repulsed—at how giddy he feels at the realization that you're dead serious.

 "Although, I don't think it'd be a waste of a life," You continued as an afterthought, taking mind to the way he wraps his fingers around the hand that you are leaning on and being as delicate as always as he peels it away from the ground so that he could hold it in his hand.

 "If you act even a little like you do now in your next life, I wouldn't mind spend all of eternity with you," He brings your hand up to his face, planting a kiss to the back of your hand before he presses the back of your hand to his forehead and tells you..

 "..Thank you for being kind enough..to choose me again."

"You look radiating," He told you. It didn't make your frown turn upside down or even budge as you stared at yourself, sat in a wheelchair; a thick, flowery blanket draped over your legs to keep them warm—not that you could really feel the warmth. Sometime after your 23rd birthday, you stopped feeling the lower half of your body.

 "I used to look radiating," You muttered dryly, your only functional eye moving to scrutinize every little scar and wrinkle that ruined your skin. Looking at them made your frown deepened as well as huff out a loud, long, breathy sigh; one that sounded just as tired as you looked in the mirror..

 "I don't know why you still wanted me after the war. Look at me.."

 "Okay!" Kyojuro said from behind you and just like he's told, his golden, fiery eyes give you a good, long look through the mirror. As the seconds turn into minutes, you find your face heating up. You were ashamed of yourself. Your once smooth skin was littered in painfully permanent cracks, bruises, and blemishes that were caused by mistakes against powerful demons. Your face had more wrinkles than a grandmother despite the fact that you were only in your mid-twenties. Your lips had scars so deep and dark that even the brightest-colored lipstick couldn't hide them.

To put it in simple terms, the sight of yourself made you want to barf.

 "I've did what you wanted," He finally says, "Do you know what I see?"

 "An ugly, disgusting hag?" You finish for him and you hear a gentle, warm laugh from behind you. It makes a wave of embarrassment ride through the ocean of your stomach. You were being laughed at by your husband. It was humiliating, but you didn't blame him. I mean, you were hideous in your eyes. You probably looked a thousand times worse to other people..

 "I see a woman with beautiful eyes that shine like the sun whenever she's happy or proud or upset. A woman who's personality makes me laugh and feel loved and proud. A woman with lips softer than the clouds in the sky even though the words that come out of them usually aren't nearly as fluffy. A woman who's body I always fantasize holding and protecting no matter the attire that covers it. The woman who'd kick me on my butt during a spar and then fret for hours over me getting a tiny cut from chopping vegetables.."

 "Y/n, I know that we don't see the same thing, but if I could give you my sight, I know that even you would grow flush from how absolutely breathtaking you are in my eyes."

 "Stop," You snap, your head hung low, "Stop," You repeat, but your voice sounds more fragile; like glass cracking bit by bit.

 "Stop what?" He crouches down and then slides over so that he's on his knees by your side. His smile is as bright as it was when you first met him all those years ago, "Stop praising my wife?"

 "Yes because your wife looks like a freak of nature! A- A demon! A—!"

 "—A woman who worked hard and gave her all and pushed past her limits so that me, my family, my friends, and the rest of the world could live in peace," He finishes and then continues, "A woman who sacrificed so much to make sure that no one has to suffer by the hands of a demon ever again.." As he spoke, admiration drips into his voice like sweet honey, "A woman I am honored to call my wife; you."

 "Shut up!" You said as you shattered completely, tears filling your eyes without your permission, "Shut up.. Shut up.." You wept.

 "I.. I'm not.." And in that moment, something else broke inside of you and you couldn't utter another word. Tears, snot—everything rolled violently down your face and in a pathetic attempt to hide that sight from the world, both of your hands come up to cover your face. And without missing a beat, Kyojuro, smiling from ear to ear, wraps his big, warm arms around you and encases your frail, upper half..

 "I love you, Y/n. It truly was, and is, an honor to be your husband."

"What am I going to do, Y/n?" He found himself asking as he gazed up at you from where he laid in your lap. He had been, understandably, anxious and upset all day and to prevent him from wallowing in that sadness until your inevitable demise, you asked him to lay his head down in your lap and allow you to stroke his hair.

 "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. My life was a pathetic mess before I met you.." He shamelessly admits, "I'm nothing without you.."

 "I'm positive that you'll be okay," You reassure, or at least, you try to. The look he gives you after you say that makes it clear that your words didn't make him feel better at all.

 "Zenitsu, you may find it hard to believe, but you're a strong person. Why else do you think I'm so calm right now?" You ask, and he doesn't say anything as he's unable to find the right words to refute you. It's a step in the right direction, you think.

 "I think my husband is more than able to fill my place when I'm gone. I know whatever decision he'll make without me will be from the best intentions. He'll be able to keep our family afloat, protected, and feeling loved and that's all I wish for," You continued, hoping to really drive your words into his head and ease his spirit. Alas, you should've known that Zenitsu will always find a way to be pessimistic whenever it came to himself.

 "You overestimate me. I could never replace you," He mumbles, "Compared to you, I'm- Ow!" He sucks in a sharp wince through his teeth and his hand comes up to cover the top of his head which was now in pain. You had landed a firm flick to the center top of his head and to say that it hurt like a bitch would be an understatement.

 "You underestimate yourself," You retort. Your hands peeling his away so that you could gently comb your fingers through that area of his scalp as if to nonverbally apologize. He accepts the apology quickly and his hands go back to fiddling with each other atop his stomach.

 "I just..don't get what you see in me.." He finally confesses, "I'm overjoyed that you were willing to marry me and even have my kids. It's just..I don't see why you'd do that.." And you sigh at him and he sees you shake your head.

 "Hopefully you will eventually.." You say as you lean down. Zenitsu eyes fall close involuntarily and after a moment, he feels you brush aside his hair and press your lips to his forehead. Even when you part from him, he could still feel tingles..

As you straighten your position and gaze down at your husband once again, you can't help but chuckle at the sight of him looking up at you with his face sparkling in a strawberry blush and his pupils glowing with his love for you. There's also the silly look of his bangs being pushed away to reveal the big red kiss-shaped stain in the center that really pulls the sight together.

He looked like an idiot in love, which I guess isn't too far from the truth.

 "My wish is that one day, you'll be able to look in the mirror and see what I've seen for almost an entire decade; a tough, talented, stunning man with a personality like no one I've ever seen and a heart of gold to boot."

 "How are you feeling?" Kanae asked, sitting at your bedside. The question earns a grin from you.

 "However one is supposed to feel when they're about to die," You replied and you notice your girlfriend's expression change to one of realization to a more abashed look.

 "I'm sorry, that was a pointless question.." She mumbled and your shoulders shook a little from you trying to control your laughter.

 "No, no. It's okay, love. You were just trying to make sure I was comfortable," You said before patting the bed, "Now, c'mon. I wanna lay with you one last time."

Her smile drops completely at that. One last time..right. This will be the last time you two will be able to do this..or do anything together. Her teeth grits behind her lips at the thought. She won't be able to spend anymore time with you. No more dates or little walks or tending to the garden together. When you're gone, that'll be the end of all of that..

It's hard to accept, but not accepting it would be immature and that's the last thing she is. And so, although reluctant, she gets up, crawls into bed, and lays by your side. You waste no time in pulling her closer until her chest hits yours and you're able to lean your head into her shoulder.

There's a silence for a while as you simply take the time to breathe in her scent. She always smelled so nice, like the flowers she grows in the garden. It's light, not too potent, but addictively sweet.

 "Man, this sucks," You murmur, "Dying just before the big battle.. How unlucky is that?" She seriously couldn't believe you and she couldn't help but show it on her face for a moment. You were about to die and what you're upset about..is not being able to fight against Kibutsuji? It leaves a bad taste in her mouth knowing that in the end, you're thinking of someone like him instead of..

No. Perish the thought, Kanae. Thoughts like that are selfish and infantile. As a demon slayer, you of all people should understand that feeling of discontentment.

 "Forgive me for saying this, but I'm actually glad that you'll have to opt out of this fight," She says and you hum as your interest is peaked, "And why is that? Because you don't want me to get hurt?" You ask and she nods against you.

 "Of course," She says and you huff at how dumb your question was. You then mumble out, "Right.."

Silence envelopes the room once again like an awkward hug. Neither of you knew what to say. There were things you could say, but since you were both trying to avoid sobbing into each others' arms for the rest of the night, neither of you said them aloud. On the other hand, trying to force this half-assed casual conversation doesn't feel the best..

And so, you let out a shaky breath in an attempt to quell your nerves as you whisper to her, "I'm scared, Kanae.. I don't want to die.."

And her grip around you tightens as she whispers back, "I'm scared too. But, it's okay if we're both scared because that means we can comfort each other for the rest of the night,"

You can feel her hands trembling on your thigh and you crane your neck so that you can get a full glance at her smile which poorly covered her nervous expression in the darkness. Seeing it kind of felt like a breath of fresh air..

 "I'd like that.." You said in the end, "I'd like that a lot.."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gamers

words: 800

warnings: vague descriptions of video game violence and gore, established relationship

“is it scary? i don't wanna play if it's scary.” you pout as rafe places the controller into your hand.

“ill protect you, promise.” rafe says, reaching over to flick the lamp on the side table on, that way more than just the light from the tv is illuminating the room.

“fine, but you can't get mad at me if i get your character killed.” you watch as rafe navigates the game easily, opening it up to the character customization screen, just doing default settings for himself.

“oh my god, im gonna make my girl look so cute!” you gush, taking your time to carefully choose her hair and outfit, even though none of the options are stylish, you create the best look you can out of the post apocalyptic clothing choices.

rafe doesn't care that he has to sit and wait for you to perfect your character, not when he finally got you to agree to play with him.

“okay, done.” you nod as you choose a pair of pink sneakers, practical but still cute. “so what's this game all about? just running from zombies?”

“basically.” rafe says with a light chuckle. “we gotta get to the safe house for this round. just follow me, gonna pick up some weapons.”

you pick up the hang of the controls easily, concentrating on the tv as rafe drops a knife and gun for character to use to protect yourself just in case.

“this isn't so bad.” you hum, pausing to admire the scenery in the background of the game, mountain peaks poking up into the sky. “where are all the zombies?”

“they give you a few minutes to get weapons before the storms start.” rafe says, eyes scanning the screen as you head into a building, rafe knows there's med packs in there that he will need when he sustains damage keeping your character safe.

“storms? that sounds scary rafe.” you scooch so you’re closer to your boyfriend. “and it's getting dark.”

it's already dark outside your actual window, but you can tell that it's getting darker in the game as well, the sun setting as you follow rafe down the desolate street, crashed cars and trash strewn about just like if it was a real apocalypse.

“here they come!” rafe warns, clicking the buttons quickly as his character shoots at the zombies moving slowly towards you. your eyes widen upon seeing the gore, cringing and turning to hide your face in rafes shoulder once your character is hidden behind a stopped car.

“i don't like this rafey!” you whine once the gunfire stops, peeking up to see a literal pile of dead zombies. “it's scary.”

“i know, but i kept you safe, didn't i? we are almost done with the first level, just gotta get to the safe house then we can take a break, okay?” rafe offers, keeping his eyes on the screen but turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“fine.” you groan. you like playing games with rafe, but your preference is him watching you dress your sims or decorate their houses after using a cheat to get them more money, only wanting your sims to have the best furniture.

you navigate your character to follow him down the sidewalk, occasionally stopping to kill the zombies. you even manage to shoot a couple.

“wait, baby, be careful.” rafe warns. “dont go that way.”

but his warning comes too late as a zombie jumps out of a dumpster that you’re standing directly next to, making you scream as it takes up your entire screen, not just attacking your character but also jumpscaring you.

“i got you, hold on.” rafe is pressing the sprint button as hard as he can, as if that can somehow make his character get to you faster. rafe manages to kill the zombie before it has the chance to bite you.

your chest is heaving up and down like you were the one to get attacked. “come on, the safe house is just around the corner.” rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder, using one hand on the controller until you’re both behind the barbed wire fence, the game switching to a cutscene. 

“i hate this.” you look to rafe with a pout on your face. “can we play stardew valley instead? please?”

rafe sighs. he should have known better than having you play with him. you are extremely adverse to any sort of shooting game. “yeah, sure.” rafe saves his progress, just in case he can convince you to play with him again before switching to stardew valley and handing you the main controller.

“yesss, thank you.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes cheek as your character wakes up. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“you just say that because you need me to go into the mines for you.” rafe says with a laugh.

“well, its scary!”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh

[jarofstyles]

Lullaby 2

Hey hi hello! We got vampy part 2 coming' at you now. I'm thinking this is a 5 parter, I've been chipping away at it :-) I hope you guys like him.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 180+ exclusive writings

Lullaby Masterlist

WC- 6.1k

Warnings- vampires, mention of blood, mentions of familial death etc, H is obsessive n a lil stalkery but he's a vampire so to be expected, slight manipulation on his part, invasion of her privacy, soft h, slight smutty thoughts, etc

————

The Sun setting was one of her favorite views. 

Sitting on the front porch with her book in hand, she had her feed tucked under her to the side as she looked at the blend of fiery orange, saccharine pinks, brilliant yellows and the tiniest bits of purple. The calming of the day, the chaos of lawnmowers, cars running, children giggling and squealing all blending out into a soft quiet harmonized with crickets. The new summer heat lingered but the cool breeze tickled her skin, a welcome relief from the oven of a car she had been in on the way home. Her AC had died earlier today, marking the beginning of a difficult day. 

At the end of it, though, she could always count on the sky to calm her down. The swirls of color fading into the night, twinkly stars appearing as the dotted sky darkened and the moon peaked out to say hello. 

Y/N was a dreamer. Someone with her head in the clouds a lot of the time, theorizing and poetical thinking, wondering what else was out there in the world. What had she not discovered yet? There was this tug in her soul, bone deep, that she was meant for something more. That the other shoe would drop at any moment and her life would be turned upside down. Her dreams were filled with promise, of a world that was a little darker but so much more vibrant. Smells more intense, colors more vivid, taste elevated. In her dreams a few nights prior, she could feel the hands of her lover perfectly, though she had a problem actually seeing them- just a general outline, dark hair, pale skin. Cool hands on her cheek that she nuzzled into, a deep voice drawling out words she couldn’t quite understand but somehow found comfort in. That feeling had soothed her soul, settled that ache in her bones even just for the duration of the dream. 

Her heart hurt when she arose, seeing no lover beside her. No cool fingers brushing hair from her eyes, no soft lips buttoning with her own. It hurt her to crave someone she logically knew didn’t actually exist, but she accepted it. As dreamy as she could be, her logical mind won over in this aspect and reminded her that she’d find her person one day. That her dreams were just dreams, to not mourn the loss of a lover that simply did not exist.

But still, the yearning didn’t stop. 

Her bowl of cherries beside her, she rocked on her glider as she watched people arrive home for the night. Odd? Perhaps. But Y/N enjoyed the art of people watching. Waving to her neighbors who gave her polite smiles before entering their own houses, seeing their own families.

As much as she was grateful to her grandmother for leaving her the large old home that she had many a memory in, it sometimes felt overwhelmingly lonely. There was only so much space a single young woman needed, and even if she thoroughly enjoyed using a single room for a closet, it only reminded her when she laid in the dead of night after waking up over some weird tugging feeling in her chest that bogged her down significantly. That loneliness that felt even more palpable in the way she had no one to try her test batch of cookies and no one to turn over to in bed to show a ridiculous post she saw on social media. 

Sure, she had some friends who would come over and stay the night at times but after her grandmother passed, she had no one. At least of familial relation. Her friends were as close as they could get, but it was difficult to form bonds at times when she was tugged two separate ways. Everyone always left. The want to be so close she was clingy, and the overwhelming fear something would happen and they would leave by their own accord- or not- hindered her from allowing people to get as close as she desired. 

Sometimes she wished her loved ones could have been immortal. Even though it didn’t exist- even if her grandmother told her the stories of the supernatural and paranormal bonds- she wished it did. Wished that someone would never leave her, would love her endlessly. A bond deeper than marriage, no worries of cheaters or boring of her. It may sound a bit crazy, but she wished for complete devotion. Overwhelming love that wouldn’t end.  If only something like that existed in anything but a book. Her grandmother had sort of set her up for failure by planting all those ideas of those all encompassing love stories in her mind.

Sighing to herself, she popped a cherry into her mouth to end her own pity party and went to go back to her book- but a familiar car brought her out of her focus.

Harry was back. 

He hadn’t been home for three days, she had noticed. Not that she was stalking him or anything but she had vowed to herself in her journal and her mind to make more of an effort with him, so his absence had been noted. In some ways she had been relieved to have an excuse so she wouldn’t have to fear rejection but on the other hand she was getting antsy to just get the disappointment over if it was going to happen  

Harry was, for a lack of a better term, dreamy. His voice, the bold structure of his face; the petal pink of his lips. He had the most alluring eyes, shifting between green and gold at times that she had noticed the last time they’d spoken. He was tall and built, large shoulders and tattooed arms she had seen peeks of but not enough to get a full picture. Large hands with thicker fingers and a plethora of rings that would look gaudy on anyone else but with his persona, it simply fit. Slightly mysterious, guarded in a way; but still kind. Classy in a different sort of style that she hadn’t seen from many people around here. The stylish way he dressed even represented bits and pieces of a time that she read of in her books. He was elegant in ways that she had thought of as a movie character, like he was in a different time period and brought here. The elements of vintage tied into his outfits had her thinking he must have an appreciation for history at the very least.

Her eyes took him in as he lifted a worn leather duffle bag out of the trunk of his sports car. It wasn’t the Range Rover she had usually seen, or the Audi, but a bit flashier and sleek. A new purchase, maybe? Nevertheless,  it was a way into conversation. 

“Nice car!” She called over, wincing immediately as she realized how lame that must have sounded. His head snapped over to hers, sunglasses still on his eyes even with the fading light. A tiny smile planted the well of his dimple, placing the bag on top of the now closed trunk. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Skin prickled with chills as he said her name. It sounded real damn nice coming from his mouth. “Would you like to come see it?” He asked politely. Not being able to see his eyes was a little intimidating, but she returned the smile and stood up with her cherries in hand. The least she could do was share her fruit with him if he was letting her see the car.

“Is it new?” She questioned, approaching with her sandals slapping against her feet. Mentally she set a reminder to get different ones that weren’t obnoxious. Getting closer to him she could feel the familiar tingle at the base of her spine, a slight giddiness as her heartbeat picked up the closer she got to him.

“It is, yeah. Had to fly out to drive it back.” He admitted, seemingly taller than the last time they’d talked. How much money did the man have? Surely a decent amount, as anyone in this neighborhood did, but three cars and flying out to get one seemed a bit luxurious to her. 

“Oh wow, that’s some dedication. It looks worth it though. I don’t know a ton about cars but it’s gorgeous.” She nodded, looking it over. The rambling didn’t help her cause but it was pretty much standard when she was nervous. “Oh! Uh, did you want some of my cherries?” Holding the pink ceramic bowl out to him, her eyes looked up at him and saw her reflection in the sunglasses. She wished she could see how he was looking back at her. If she would see any interest. Thankfully she could tell by the smile that he at least seemed slightly endeared. 

“Sure, thank you.” Two of his ringed fingers picked out a ripe one, pinching the small red fruit in his hands, looking down as a bit of the juice dribbled down his thumb. “Did you…”

“Yeah, I pitted them already. Sorry, I didn’t think to warn you. But you’re wearing all black so it shouldn’t stain, I don’t think.” The attempt of a joke had her groaning in her head. Could she act fucking normal? Her mind was a jumbled mess, as it usually was with him, but it seemed to be getting worse. The thought of her cherry stained fingers had come back to her, filtering through the thoughts of wanting to know more about him into a slight shame that she hadn’t thought to have warned the man of dripping cherry juice down the back of his hand. 

“It’s not a problem.” He assured, popping it into his mouth.

Perhaps she needed to get laid, but somehow watching him chew the cherry was better than porn. The slight dark red sheen on his lip, gently dripping down his chin and the clench of his jaw as he worked the flesh of the fruit through his teeth, he let out a pleased hum. 

Y/N saw the path the dribble of juice going further down and before she could think twice, she leaned up on her toes. There was little hesitation as she thumbed over his chin, wiping the juice away. It had been like second nature, invading his personal space like it was instinct.

Her hand froze as soon as reality set in, his chewing taking a pause as there was a moment of bated breath. Bright eyes widened, ripping her hand away like his touch had scorched her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I have no idea why I just did that.” She squawked, holding her hand up in front of her chest. “That was so rude of me. I swear I don’t usually just touch people like that, it was just dripping down your chin and I didn’t want it to stain more of your skin and-“

“I didn’t say it was a problem.” The vampire murmured, swallowing the sweet fruit. “I didn’t mind at all.” His own thumb came up to brush over the path her digit had taken. It still thrummed with warmth from the human’s touch, his body perking up as he ached to take a step closer. Her scent made a lot of sense considering he had seen her more often than not with bowls of fruit on her porch. Fresh cut strawberries in sugar, watermelon, mango sliced into wedges, grapes, but most frequent were the cherries. It reflected in her sweet scent, sugary but not in a sickly way. Fresh, sweet, ripe like fruit. 

He was glad he wore his glasses because the thought moved towards how sweet she would taste right now. If he were able to just take her gaze and use his slow, deep words and locked eyes to compel her to move the hair off of her neck and tilt it for him, lift her to sit on the hood of the car and let his teeth sink into the throbbing artery in her throat. How the sugary taste would tinge the metallic aftertaste. She’d writhe in his hold and spread her legs for him, give him the option of burying his tongue to lap up the only substance that would be able to compete with the obsession he would surely have with her blood. Maybe even take a bite at the junction of her thigh, leave marks all over her. Punctures to visibly show it and his scent to claim the little human as his own. 

If the glasses weren’t on, it was sure that she’d see the flash of red in his iris. 

“Still.” She said sheepishly. “We are friends but I don’t know how you are with touch and everything and I didn’t have permission, so I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled at that. The little peach, his little cherry, so considerate of other people. She had no idea how he had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from grabbing her and hauling her into him so he could suck off the slight stain on her lips. Bury his face in her throat and inhale her dangerous temptation. 

“I promise, it’s quite alright. You can touch me anytime you’d like.” He took a risk in placing one of his hands on her shoulder, letting some more of her warmth infiltrate his system. The words had been loaded, sure, but he remembered vividly how her journal entry had written about wanting to see more of him. It was his fault, spending so much time with her even if she was asleep. Her body was going to crave him just as much as he craved her. “If you would like, I would be more than willing to take you on a drive sometime.”

This was something of an excuse to see her again, but the creature was overwhelmingly desperate to form a bond with her. As much as he looked forward to watching her sleep, he would rather her be in his bed, soaking his sheets and pillows with her tantalizing scent. The idea of getting close to her was something he had been weighing for a while, but reading her journal a few days ago had clued him into knowing the pull wasn’t just one sided.

The memory of her nuzzling her cheek into his frosty palm, sighing in contentment when he had observed her the night before had him feeling borderline insane- even more than one would be after living centuries, amassing knowledge and watching the world consistently evolve around you than one would imagine. His hand still tingled when he recalled feeling the heat of her skin, knowing she was so full of life underneath him. Finding comfort in the monster that gnawed at his cheek to keep from sinking his fangs into her delectable skin, taste her blood as it seeped over his tongue. If only he could skip to the part where she knew, where she’d crave the venom igniting her nerves. Y/N would be the prettiest little snack he ever had.

“Oh, really?” She perked up, blinking up at him. “I’d love that. When- when did you want to? It’s up to you, I’m free all weekend and stuff but I know you’re busy.” There was a pause. “Or it seems so. I’m not sure why I assumed that.” 

Again, his little human made him chuckle. “I am.” He wasn’t, not right now. He had a handle on his duties, but the majority of the time he was writing. Painting. Looking at properties to invest in on his iPad while curated playlists crooned from the speakers around his house. If only he could imagine such a thing back in 1760 without being accused of witchcraft. Then again, witchcraft was too much for humans even now to comprehend. “But I’d be more than happy to take you out. I don’t… know many people in the neighborhood because of it. A little lonely at times.”

It was actually by his own want, because the less people knew of him around here the better- but he had this insane obsession with this particular human, so she was the exception to his ‘stick to vampires but even then limit your socialization’ rule. 

He knew he was appealing to Y/N’s metaphorical bleeding heart. Manipulation was in his nature. In this case, though, he had no cruel intentions. He wanted to get to know the pretty girl, wanted to have her feel the same amount of lust and obsession he was subject to feel on a daily basis. Humans knew nothing of how intense and passionate a vampire’s affections could be, and for that reason he had been hiding his time. Laying in the shadows and approaching while she slept to soothe the inner beast that insisted he crawl out the window with her body attached to his so she could reside in his house, feast on whatever she chose and allowed him to touch and feed on her as much as he chose. 

She’d like it, he was pretty sure. Once she warmed up to the idea, Harry had high hopes that she would allow him to be as handsy as he wanted. Sex between a pair with a compatible scent was otherworldly. If she were to be with him, he’d need to pace himself and understand his strength, but there was that part of him that still worried slightly. He cared for her. She wasn’t a metaphorical juice pouch for him to snack on like a lot of others his kind referred to humans as. Something he used to laugh at before he scented the girl with eager eyes in front of him. Now he understood why his uncle had fought so much, defending his human soulmate. Eventually he turned her, but during the few years she remained human he had been valiant in his efforts to defend her honor in every way possible.

It was partially why he didn’t tell many people of his suspicions of his bond with his own little human. Already slightly on edge from not being able to hold her the way his body needed, he would not be surprised if he lost it on anyone who snickered at her. 

Buying the car was a strategic effort to get himself to cool off, but it did no good. If anything he was more desperate now. The good news, however, was that Y/N felt his absence just as much. Her hands had touched him like he was hers to touch. His body felt the flush of pleasure just being near her, clenching his fists by his sides to keep from reaching out to her. So close to him, so damn close, but he had to behave. 

Y/N with her tender soul gave him a look of understanding. One that would later make him feel a sickly guilt because he was alone by choice, and the pretty woman was alone because life had dealt her a hard hand. She understood loneliness because it was all she felt. 

“Well you know me.” Her voice was delicate as she looked up at him. “And we can get to know each other so maybe you feel less alone. I know the feeling and it’s hard, but you don’t need to feel that with me. I’m right next door.” Pointing towards her house with an understanding smile, he felt a little more guilt but tried to shove it down. Y/N wouldn’t feel any sort of loneliness if he could help it. “You’re welcome anytime. Just knock.” 

The knowledge that he’d been inside her house more times than she could even count should be something that exacerbated the guilt, but it didn’t. In that respect, he thought of it as a favor to her. Getting his fix without suffocating her with his presence while she was awake was a gift, because if she had even the slightest inkling on how much self control it took for him not to simply steal her away and sink his teeth into her neck, claim her as his soul bonded, she would be terrified. “I will.” Letting himself smile a bit bigger at her, he lifted the bag up on his arm. “How about you come over tomorrow evening and I’ll take you on the drive.” 

He could hear the pickup of her heart. The slightly elevated thumping went harder, the blood rushing to her cheeks as her eyes widened slightly and she swallowed audibly- for him anyways- making him feel the satisfaction in his chest that he had this sort of impact on her. If his heart still beat he was positive it would kick up at the mere mention of her, the slight catch of her scent, but this was progress. Restraining himself now was the hardest thing he had ever done. 

“Yeah! Yeah, that would be awesome.” The human chirped, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. His hand tightened on the bad strap from how the slight movement had wafted some more of her scent towards him. It would be a struggle to control his eyes when they were alone, but going at sundown should be an excuse to keep his glasses on… at least for a little while. 

“Amazing. I’ll be yours at sunset.” 

In more ways than she knew.

Harry let her stumble over her goodbyes, her slightly shaky hands grabbing the bowl of cherries and walking back to her front porch with curious eyes that met his own as she looked back. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection, he’d seen it written in her journal, but feeling it in real time was surreal. It took the most self discipline he’d needed all week to walk inside his house, dropping himself onto the velvet sofa with a grunt. The place she had touched on his chin to wipe away the ironically deep red juice still held some warmth, reminding him again that she’d touched him. There was no question about the pull, seeing how mortified she’d been at her body's reaction- but it had been natural. It made sense to him that she’d be drawn to touch him. Human resolve was weaker than one of a vampire but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel that overwhelming urge to run to her house and ask to come in right now just to see her. 

Instead, he sat with the french doors open in the back to listen to her go about her house. She hummed to herself, cooked dinner, and took a shower. The humid air floated out of her bathroom window that she kept slightly cracked to make sure it didn’t steam up too much, letting him inhale her at her purest form. When they got together he’d try to find her less strong shampoo and wash so her natural scent could be highlighted, but luckily her intuition had her choosing similar to how she came off to him. Almost like subconsciously she knew what to do to attract him there. 

It was when he heard the scratching of pen to paper that he went outside to wait. In hand he had a warmed bag of blood poured into a crystal glass- a bit pretentious- to calm his nerves. He loved wine, sure, but he needed to be positive his hunger was satiated before going up to see her. If he was being honest, he knew it wouldn’t be until he tasted Y/N, but he had to try. Had to keep her safe in the best ways he could until they passed the threshold of pretending to move around one another and into a courting. 

The plan had never been to take a human as a mate- as it probably wasn’t for any vampire. Humans were glorified bloodbags to a lot of his kind, seen as a lesser being. While he didn’t always share that exact sentiment, he was guilty of caring less for humans in general. They were oblivious to danger, slightly obnoxious, covered themselves in putrid perfumes, loud, uncouth, and fragile. So fucking fragile that it still terrified Harry to touch Y/N. He needed to ensure her safety in any way possible and that meant training himself to touch gently. To hold gently. To avoid any sort of pain that would absolutely wreck him to be the source of.

Humans weren’t ideal mates for that reason. Vampires got carried away during sx, the stamina hot and hard, the passion making it difficult to hide the monstrous nature that laid internally. He knew he’d take Y/N over and over again until she was sleepy and sore if he had the chance. If Y/N allowed him that honor, he could easily spend days locked inside of a room with her with little need to pull his cock from the warm confines of her cunt. It was the dream he had over and over again, yet something he feared. If he lost control with her in the heat of the moment he couldn’t recover. Though he had faith in himself to keep her safe, sex was the one thing he craved and feared the most with her. 

Lost in his thoughts, he watched the light turn down in her room. Never off, as she had a slight fear of the dark. Her bedside lamp turned on, he could hear her breathing start to even out as he jumped over the fence separating their properties and scaled the tree to her balcony. It wasn’t necessary, but the less trapezing he had to do around her home the better. Counting her heartbeats, he waited for 30 minutes for it all to even out and resemble the deeper parts of sleep before he opened the door.

One of these days he would scold her for leaving windows and doors unlocked. It was just like a human to be forgetful of those things, even if it did benefit him. His chest tightened as he walked in to see her body curled into a ball under the duvet. Hair peeking out, she was obviously a bit cold from how she had huddled under the cover of her blankets. A pang of sadness hit his stomach, perhaps a hint of inadequacy because he wouldn’t be able to keep her warm with his body. He could blame all sorts of health issues, but as long as she remained human he wouldn’t be a source of comfort in that way. 

He let out a soft sigh before swiping the journal, settling himself in the chair across from her. A leg crossed over his thigh, lightly tapping his foot in the air as he began to read. 

‘I talked to Harry today :-) He was so nice. Very intimidating in a weird way, but also not. It’s hard to explain. That feeling that makes me drawn to him felt a little stronger, even if I did make a fool of myself. I didn’t think twice before reaching up to wipe cherry juice from his chin, which like…. That was so weird of me. He didn’t seem to judge me for it but there had to be some part of him that was freaked out.’

A chuckle left his throat, whisper soft as his fingertip caressed the words as he read. In his head he could hear exactly how she’d say these things out loud. The journal was an extension of her, a physical example of her stream of consciousness. 

‘Regardless, I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’m panicking, of course, but I think above else I’m really excited. There’s that weird buzzing in my stomach at the thought of him and my chest gets all warm. I haven’t ever spent time with him outside of our talks outside or when he came to get his cat but he offered. I was going to be brave and all of that but thank god he took the initiative. I would have done it… probably. It’s just hard because I don’t think my body has ever reacted to a man the way it reacted to him today.’

Harry smiled to himself at the last sentence. It must be confusing to a human with no idea of what was happening. No clue that it was the universe leading her towards him, making him appealing because he was the one that could give her what she wanted. She was his, the bond he had accidentally jumpstarted starting to fall further into place. The sleeping girl didn’t know how he’d almost moaned at the feeling of her hand on him, how he’d been tempted to suck the juice from her thumb and squish one of the fruits between his fingers to trickle down her neck. His throat tightened at the image in his head, dark red beads moving down her skin, taunting him. His tongue lapping it up, kissing over her pulsepoint before he sunk his teeth in and took a few strong pulls from her artery. 

Swallowing thickly, he went to go back to the journal entry, to read more about her thoughts and excitement about him, but that was interrupted. 

“Harry?” A hoarse voice rang through the air, making his entire body freeze. The flush of cold washed over him as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, droopy and furrow browed. “Am I dreaming?” 

Fuck. 

“Yeah, darling. It’s a dream.” His voice swiftly took on a croon, placing the journal to the desk and standing up from the chair. “You’re alright.” If his heart still beat it would be in his throat and at his feet at the same time, body tense as he tried to navigate this the best way possible. It was too early for her to know he came in here, came to spend time with her even when she slept. It was far too much for her to know he counted her breaths and monitored the beats in her chest. That he tried to give her privacy when she touched herself to get herself sleepy, but he couldn’t help overhearing even when trying to distract himself in his home office. 

“Oh.” The sad sigh had him curious. Was she disappointed? What would she truly do if she knew this was anything but a dream, a sickly reality where a monster was completely and utterly obsessed with her, and wanted to bond her to his side for the rest of eternity. “Can you come lay with me then? If this is a dream I think I shouldn’t waste it with you over there.” 

The vampire wanted to laugh at how completely absurd this was. How fucking insanely lucky he had gotten that her own glass of wine had her more drowsy than normal. This scenario had been his fear from the beginning, but he had to wonder if her body felt the pull more now that she’d touched him. Now, she knew how his skin felt. Contact had been made, and maybe her body felt his presence more than before. “Of course I can.” He smiled lightly, padding over to her empty side of the bed to toe off his shoes. It felt surreal, her heat radiating off of the mattress as he slowly lowered himself down on the sleeping pad that was probably a bit too hard and springy for her. She’d prefer his bed, he was positive. It’d cost a pretty penny but for the times he did want to sleep it was perfection. 

“This is the most realistic dream. I need to lay off the Cabernet before bed.” She yawned, lifting the duvet up and showing no hesitation as she scooted closer to him and laid herself down next to him. “Well, dream Harry, you’re gonna have t’do until the real one wants me. Hold me please.” 

It was times like this that Harry wondered what sort of good karma he’d gotten, especially with how many lives he’d taken,  to get a taste of this. Her body warmth was so delicious, her scent making his mouth water and he thanked whoever was listening in his head that he’d had the intuition to have fed before this. Her body was delicate and soft, turning over for him to lay with her- spoon her. Harry hadn’t done this in a number of years, had never felt the real urge to, but he did it for her regardless. Took her soft flesh into his hands and felt her shiver as she she huddled closer to him. Hot fingers ran over the backs of his hands, slotting in between the spaces. In all his existence, he had never had a feeling to compare to his one.

“Is this alright, Darling?” He asked into her ear, trying his best to remain calm. This was the ultimate impulse control, her thudding pulse right at mouth level. He could hear the blood running under her skin, the pumps of her heart moving it through her system. Digging his canine into his lip, he took deep and slow breaths through his mouth to try and limit temptation. It didn’t take it all away, his head dizzy from the scent surrounding him, but if he took a large inhale of the spot next to her ear he would perhaps lose his mind. 

“Mhm.” She sighed contently. “This is a good dream. Maybe you’ll fall in love with me tomorrow and I can make this real.” The words were said so quiet that he was sure that no human could hear them, but he could. He heard them and committed them to memory. The sweet little human had no idea that he’d been falling for a long time. Y/N took up the majority of his thoughts, owning him in a way that had him feeling like his life wasn’t his anymore. For someone with control issues it had made him furious at first, but the last bit of anger towards her for owning him melted away as she melted into his body, giving herself to him. There was no way he could hold even the slightest bit of resentment when it felt this divine to hold her. 

The only times he had held humans in his life had been to drain them of their blood. To watch the life drain from them as he took it selfishly for his own needs. Never once has it been to cherish one, to commit the feel of her fingers between his to memory. It was overwhelming, as the girl dozed off in his arms, to know that this was merely a taste of what he could have. He needed to charm her, to get her to see that he could give her the love no one else could. Albeit obsessive, possessive, intense, unlike anything a human could give her, he had a feeling that if she had been a temptation for him that the fates had chosen to give him a human who could handle it. 

“I’m going to take care of you.” He spoke softly, not wanting to rouse her from her sleep quite yet. “You are the most precious thing in my world. Somehow you’ve managed to bewitch me, little human. Completely take my heart from my chest, regardless of how dormant it has laid.” Inhaling shakily, he let his nose run along her cheek. “You won’t have to be alone ever again. Not if I can help it. I’ll show you the love you deserve.”

It wasn’t until the bright blue of the early turning dawn started to break that he found himself able to move from her bed. It took three tries and a lot of control when she sought him out, holding tighter to him and whimpering when he went to leave in his first attempts, but he had to go before she woke up. It ached, the thought of leaving her, but he had to. Even though hours later would feel like an eternity, he couldn’t take any more risks tonight. The selfishness he had for staying all night couldn’t be extended to waking her up with sweet words and his mouth. Even though it pained him, the soreness of his chest making it feel even more hollow, he had felt more whole in those hours than he’d ever imagined he could be. 

The melancholy that followed him around, the bitterness, it didn’t go away completely- but it had dulled down to a whisper as he climbed out of her yard. Just hours with her and he felt lighter.   Like his heart started to beat again. 

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

I'll Send an SOS to Your Heart

-------

"Ok, I'm imagining things."

Steve is laying on his bed watching his lights flicker.

He plugged in one of those space projectors that's supposed to make your ceiling look like the night sky.

It's not weird that they're flickering, the light was a dollar at Melvads he wasn't expecting it to work long.

The weird part is that the stars keep making a heart shape.

He sees the heart flash a couple of times before he flips over and hides deeper into his pillow.

"No." He groans. "No more upside down shit."

If some upside-down monster was flirting with him he quits.

All the lights in his room surge to maximum brightness.

"Fuck off."

The lights draw a middle finger.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He jumps out of bed and points at the orbs.

It draws a winky face. (;P)

"Who are you?"

His blood runs cold. An upside down monster can't flirt with him. They don't know English. He has an idea but it can't be true.

They left him there. He's dead.

...isn't he?

'SOS' the lights read.

"Fuck." Tears spring to his eyes. "Eddie?"

'Hiya'

-----

He spends a while talking to Eddie.

It's tough.

It takes a while to write everything out and Steve is still trying not to hyperventilate or cry or pass out so it's taking a lot of energy to keep up the conversation.

'Sleep?'

"No."

'?'

"Nothing I'm just...not tired."

'Liar'

"WHAT! I'm not I just-"

'-_-'

"Fine."

':)'

"I'm scared."

'Me?'

"No, I'm scared this is a dream. That I fell asleep hours ago and I made you out of my guilty conscious. I just don't want to lose you...again."

'Back'

"Back?"

'Bring back'

"Bring...you back?"

'YES'

"You think we can bring you back?"

'Plan'

"Yes! I'll call everyone we can figure it out. Oh! We have El to help us this time! You're gonna love her Eds she's just like the kids you look out for and she's magic! I'll call them right-"

'NO'

"No?"

'tom- sleep now'

"I think this is a little more important than-"

'Sleep <3'

Steve looks over at the clock, 4 am.

Shit.

"Ok. I'm going to sleep. Will you...will you be here in the morning?"

'W STEVIE'

"Ok. Goodnight Eddie."

'GN <3'

----

The plan goes off without a hitch.

It takes them about two weeks to formulate and execute the plan.

Steve spends his days and nights talking to Eddie, keeping him updated. Keeping him in his life.

He speed runs a crisis or two when he realizes he wants to spend the remainder of his days speaking to Eddie.

He can't wait until he's here with him.

Alive.

-----

So it's more complicated than he thought.

Maybe there's a hoard or bats blocking them from Eddie.

Maybe Steve throws himself in front of the kids and fights off the creatures long enough for them to find Eddie and get him back home.

Maybe Steve bleeds a little too much and collapsed as soon as they reach the other side.

----

He wakes in the hospital to nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

They're all arguing with each other. Their voices low as if they're trying not to wake them.

He wants to talk he wants to reach out.

Eddie is standing by the door in a baseball cap and sunglasses as if he was trying to be inconspicuous.

As if Eddie could ever hide from Steve. Steve would find him anywhere he is.

God, he's here! He's in the room! All this time apart and he's so close!

"Mphahhpsh" he can't form words but it doesn't matter.

Everyone stops and Eddie's eyes meet his. His eyes look wet and he looks skinny and exhausted.

He's never looked more beautiful.

Eddie's eyes turn down into a determined glare. He pushes past everyone until he's inches away from Steve.

He takes a deep breath and then leans down and kisses him.

Flat on the mouth. In front of everyone.

The shocked noises are what pulls them apart.

"I'm so happy to see you, I really like you," Steve says.

"That's my line." Eddie smiles and kisses him again.

"Don't ever try to save me again I can't ever see you in a hospital again," Eddie presses their noses together.

"That's my line."

Eddie chuckles and pushes his nose into Steve's cheek. "Dork."

"Yes, yes, you're both terrible. Now what the fuck is happening."

They break apart to see the crews shocked faces. Mike's face is pale and Dustin is an interesting shade of red.

Robin is staring at him a little proud.

He sends a wink her way and pulls Eddie in closer.

They'll figure it all out later. They have time.

----

This started with once sentence in my brain and grew into three different plot points I put together in a rush. :P

Please comment I love to read em!

[dira333]

Big, butiful and nice - Fatgum x Reader

I have carried this idea with me for a while. This features a single Mom! Reader, so if kids aren't your thing, you don't have to read it. Pure Fluff. Tagging @missalienqueen @bbglay @pixiesavvy @itsyoursunshinebabe @marti-mp4

“UP! UP!” Chubby arms reach for him and huge eyes twinkle up at him over a row of missing teeth.

“Oh?” Toyomitsu reaches down and picks the little girl up. “Who are you?”

“Etsuko.” She tells him proudly, trying to reach for the zipper of his costume. 

“Hi, Etsuko. Where is your mommy?”

“Dead.”

He stills. Oh.

“Etsuko?!” A woman in a business suit rushes around the corner, spots the little girl and halts. “You can’t just run off!”

It’s only then that you notice him - not that he’s trying to hide in his big form.

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Fatgum, Sir! I was just showing Etsuko the on-site childcare when she ran off! Please, let me take her, I don’t know why she bothered you.”

“Big!” Etsuko explains simply. “I can see the world!” 

“Yes, you do!” Toyomitsu bounces her once, twice and revels in her giggles. “And don’t worry, it happens.” He transfers the little girl to your arms, watches with fondness as she immediately snuggles into your side. “Your…?”

“Niece, Sir. She’s my niece. I just… uh, I just transferred this week and this is all pretty new for us, but I promise we’ll be totally professional from now on.”

“Oh, please don’t.” He laughs, waving his hand, “That’d be boring, right?”

You look a little dumbfounded. It’s pretty, he notices, when your features soften. When you’re not constantly focused on looking all-serious.

“Boss?” A voice asks from the other end of the hallway. He turns to see Kirishima, all dressed up in his costume and eager to get going. Toyomitsu nods and turns back to you. 

“I guess I’ll see you around. And Etsuko,” he boops her nose, “Keep smiling, okay?”

-

“Mr. Fatgum, Sir?” Toyomitsu looks up from his Desk and the assortment of food spread across its expanse.

You’re dressed in a different suit this time, the dull grey color of it making you look like a banker coming to collect his soul. He shivers. 

“I have the analysis. Do you want to go over it now or later?”

“If you don’t mind me eating while you talk, we can go over it now.”

You nod and slip into the chair on the other side of his desk.

You’re a professional, he can tell. You stick out of their agency like a sore-thumb, but you’re probably also the voice of reason they need the most. 

Yes, he’s on Number 58, but he’s also too slack with his employees. Lord knows there are many things he could improve.

You show him charts and numbers, studies and graphs. You’re smart, he can tell, to the point that he can’t help but interrupt you.

“Did you just do that calculation in your head?”

“Oh… oh yeah, it’s my… it’s my Quirk.” You explain, seemingly embarrassed by it. “I’ve got a computer for a brain, basically.”

“That’s cool.”

You shrug. Your eyes flicker to the Takoyaki. He pushes them towards you, silently offering them.

“Oh, no, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands but he shakes his head. “Take one. Tell me about yourself for a bit, will you? You transferred here from Endeavours Agency, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, still eyeing the Takoyaki. He picks one up and hands it to you, watching the emotions flicker over your face. Eventually, you pop it into your mouth and chew and he’s lucky to have been watching because happiness flickers over your face like a shooting star over the night sky.

“Another?” Toyomitsu hands you another one. It doesn’t take long for the dish to vanish.

You must have been hungry, or maybe it’s just your favorite dish, but the food has softened your features, blurred the harsh lines that you draw yourself in.

“My sister died unexpectedly. I don’t know who Etsuko’s father is, but my parents died when I was a teen and I’m the only one she has left. I did love working for Endeavour, I really did, but it’s no place for a single mother. I heard you offered on-site childcare, so I applied.”

“And what do you think of us so far?”

“Well,” you reach for your tablet again, but he stops you.

“Without the numbers, please?”

You hesitate for a second. “It’s… it’s warm, I guess. Everyone’s really nice here and no one minds when Etsuko runs off yet again, coming to find me in my office. I know it’s my job to look for opportunities to improve your brand and your agency, but I am constantly at odds.”

“Why is that?” 

“If you could have an Agency like Endeavour, would you do it if it meant giving up all the things that make you special?”

He considers it. If there’s no on-site childcare at Endeavour’s, and he’d have to give this one up, quite a few of his employees would fall away. Like Kuno-kun, who brings in his daughter and his wife’s homemade baking. Or Noda-san, who knits scarfs for everyone in the winter and who’s using the child-care for her grandsons. 

There’d be no longer the laughter of children heard in the hallways, no more drawings handed over at the end of a semester.

“No, I don’t think I’d want to give that up. At least not all of it. But we could find a compromise, I guess. Make the best of what we are. If that means we’ll stay at Nr. 58, I’m fine with that. Being a Hero doesn’t mean to have the highest rank, but to save the most people, right?”

Surprise flickers over your face. 

It’s gone as fast as it came but he likes to believe that he made an impact on you.

-

“How are you all doing today?”

Almost fifteen children surround him. The older ones are holding back in favor of the younger ones, he can tell, but they’re all so eager to tell him about their adventures.

“One after the other, okay?” Toyomitsu settles on a nearby chair. “But first we have to ask: who’s our newest member?”

Etsuko steps forward. Her hair is pulled up into little pigtails and she looks adorable.

“Hi, Etsuko. Do you want to sit on my lap today? You have to be careful though, because if you lean too much into me, I might suck you in.”

Her eyes widen, but the kids around her giggle. “Do it!” They tell her. “It’s so much fun.”

So she does, giggling almost hysterically as the fat absorption kicks in. Only her head’s left out, her pigtails whipping around as she shakes her head, giggling.

“If you want out, all you have to do is tell me, okay? No kicking.”

She nods. 

At the end of this month's visit to the children, he leaves with a hand full of drawings and one sucker, tucked into his hand by one of the older children. 

Toyomitsu’s almost down the hallway when he feels someone tugging at his legs. He turns to see Etsuko toddling after him. She reaches for him. 

“Up?” She asks and he can’t say no to her big eyes and her small pout.

If he walks around the agency for a bit with her sitting on his shoulder instead of directly taking her back, that’s his secret and his secret alone.

-

Months pass.

Toyomitsu implements the first of your proposals. His ranking moves, slowly at first, until he finds himself at Nr. 35. 

Etsuko has begun sneaking into his office once a week, handing him a drawing or a slice of fruit, left over from her lunch. Sometimes he lets her sit on his lap, listening to her talk about her day. 

Certainly, you must know about it. How else could she bring in expensive chocolates one day and have your handwriting on her drawing the next, clearly pointing out that the yellow blob is him? 

He’s been thinking a lot about you lately. 

More than he should about one of his employees. 

But he likes the way you talk, all serious one second, rattling down numbers and statistics, until he makes a joke and you can’t stop giggling, your voice suddenly smooth and soft.

He likes the way you look in the early mornings when Etsuko’s done her best to make you late, when your hair’s not done up perfectly and you’re missing your usual makeup. Or when you’d been with her for lunch and no one’s told you yet that there’s a sticky handprint on your blouse or your skirt is wrinkled, no doubt from Etsuko pulling on it.

You love your niece and he loves to see all signs of it, like an imprint you cannot wipe away.

So far, you haven’t shown any signs of interest in him.

You’ve started calling him by his last name, though, foregoing the “Sir” for most of the time. 

But that doesn’t mean that you’d consider a date with him, right? 

Or is he starting to get delusional?

-

“What do you think, Daddy?” Toyomitsu freezes. 

Etsuko’s sitting on his lap, fingertip moving over one of her drawings as she explains.

It had been a perfectly fine moment up until now.

“What did you just call me?”

“Daddy!” She looks up at him, grinning so wide it must hurt her face. “Because you’re my Daddy.”

“I… well…” He struggles. He doesn’t know what to say. “Etsuko, you cannot call me that.”

“Eh? Why?” She pulls at his shirt. “Are you not my Daddy?”

“No, Etsuko. I’m not your Daddy. I like you a lot and I want to be your friend, but I’m not your Daddy.”

Her eyes start to water and he can feel himself panicking. He’s normally not that bad with kids, but this… this is just catching him on the wrong foot at the wrong time.

“Look,” he tries to explain. “It’s like with your Aunty, right? She loves you a lot, but she’s not your Mommy.”

“But you’re my Daddy!” Etsuko’s hands are balled into fists now. “Mommy said that Daddy was big and butiful and nice! You are my Daddy.”

“Oh, Etsuko.” Toyomitsu pulls her in, realizing her mistake. She’s crying into his shirt now, her tears more fueled by confusion and anger than real sadness. He lets her cry it out before he picks her up.

“I think we need to talk to your Aunty for a moment about this, okay?”

-

He hadn’t thought your face could turn any more serious, but he’d been mistaken. 

There’s no softness left in your features as he explains. Etsuko’s sitting on your lap now, face snuggled into your blazer. He’s pretty sure that’s going to leave stains, but he’s also sure he shouldn’t point it out right now.

“I didn’t know,” you say. And “I’m sorry she bothered you this much.” And “I will make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

At some point he realizes that you’re no longer listening to him, ears closed off from his explanations. He can do nothing but leave you, wondering if he’s just ruined everything that could have possibly been.

-

For the following week, he gets no visits from Etsuko.

Toyomitsu does not dare to visit her in childcare either, unsure of what you want.

But he’s got an appointment with you on Thursday that he puts all his hopes on.

When you come in he can tell that you must have spent an extra minute preparing yourself beforehand, because there is no hair out of place and you’re wearing lipgloss like battle armor.

He feels wholly unprepared for this fight, even less so after losing a quarter of his body fat in yesterday’s fight.

But the sight of him, so much smaller and thinner than you’ve gotten to know him, seems to soften the resolve in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

“If you refer to my body, I will be. I have to eat a lot in the next few days to get back to my usual form, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. If you refer to something else… No, I’m not okay with how this played out.

“About that…” You gingerly sink into your chair, hands folded over your lap. You’re not looking at him. “I did some more research. I should have done that ages ago. I… I’ve found Etsuko’s father.”

His heart beats painfully.

“Who is it?”

“His name’s Kan Sekijiro. I don’t know if you know hi-”

“Vlad King?”

“Ah, yes. So you know him?”

“I know of him. One of his students interned here. He’s… did you contact him?”

“Not yet.” You purse your lips. Considering that all Etsuko knew about her father… I am sorry that she got you confused. I know this is highly unprofessional and-”

“I don’t care.”

You still. Your eyes flicker over to him.

“Look,” he leans forward, can’t help it. He needs you to understand this. “This isn’t just Etsuko’s doing alone. I like spending time with her. I could have stopped anytime, bring her back every time she came over to my office. I didn’t put a stop on it and maybe I should have, but I…”

“What?”

“I have to preface this by saying that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or… or put you in a tight spot because I’m your employer, but-”

“Spit it out.” Your words are harsh and rushed and he can tell you regret them the second they leave your mouth. But you’re right. He’s stalling.

“I am interested in you.”

Your jaw slackens, your features soften with that well-known dumbfoundedness. 

As you bury your face in your hands, he can feel his heart sink. Fighting criminals is so much easier than facing rejection.

“Are you okay?” He asks when your face doesn’t come back up. You nod into your hands.

“Are you sure? You’re not looking too good there.”

“It feels like my Quirk is overloading. I am…”

“Overthinking? I am familiar with that. Not that I suffer from it, but you’ve met Suneater, I guess.” He tries to joke, make light of the situation. It’s what makes you finally lift your head.

“If you’re serious,” you bite through your teeth, “About this. About… Etsuko and me. I… I’d take you out to dinner.”

Toyomitsu blinks. He’s expected everything but that.

“Are you serious?” He asks and you groan. 

“No, I mean yes. But… you know how much I eat, right?”

You huff, looking away. He’s not the worlds expert in flirting, but you do look kinda flustered. 

“I might have looked up All-You-Can-Eat-Restaurants ever since I’ve gotten to know you,” you mumble and the pout on your lips looks eerily like Etsuko’s.

-

“I’m home!” Toyomitsu calls out from the Genkan.

To his surprise, no tiny feet come running. When he peeks around the corner he finds you curled up on the Couch, an open book next to you on the floor. You must have fallen asleep reading.

“Hey,” he cards a hand through your hair to wake you gently. “Shouldn’t Sekijiro be back before dinner?”

“What?” You try to wipe the sleep from your eyes while snuggling into him. “Oh, no, he called before I took a nap. He’s bringing her back after Dinner. Apparently, they’re making pancakes.”

“Ah, did you tell him to bring leftovers?” He jokes, chuckling when you nod earnestly.

.

Life is good. 

He’s got a wife and a daughter and his daughter’s father has turned into a good friend.

He’s got a job he enjoys, a Quirk he can rely on and so far he’s been able to stay himself.

There’s not much he’d wish for nowadays. 

Well, except maybe some more food.

.

You’re still on the Couch when he walks into the kitchen, fully intending to make Dinner as soon as he’s gotten a little snack from the fridge.

But inside the fridge is a huge box. He furrows his brows and pulls it out. He recognizes the branding, but you only buy a cake at this bakery for important dates, like your wedding anniversary or Etsuko’s first day in kindergarten.

“Baby, did I miss an event?” He asks, flipping open the lid.

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s a cake in the fri-”

“Don’t open it!” You yell, rushing over. But the lid’s already open. The buttercream frosting is light blue and the icing a dark blue. Big, bold letters write out “World’s best Dad!”

“This is nice,” he says as you reach him, clearly out of breath and a little haggard. “But you didn’t have to buy an expensive cake to let me know. Not that I mind. Or is it for Sekijiro?”

“Ah,” your face is doing some weird contortions. 

His eyes flicker back to the icing and something in his head clicks at the color.

“Taishirou, I’m pregnant.”

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Honkai: Star Rail) Stelle, March 7th, Himeko, Natasha, Seele, Bronya, and Firefly missing you

Alternate title: "From the Aqueous Star with Love"

A song from Zeta Gundam got me feelin a certain way, so we doing a song fic. Whether reader is dead or not, tis up to interpretation. (Song: Mizu no Hoshi he Ai wo Komete - KOM_I)

Aoku nemuru mizu no hoshi ni sotto Kissing softly the star of water that sleeps in blue,

Stelle watches the waves of the ocean crash against the shore.

This time, the Astral Express took her to a planet mostly consisting of water, it was a beautiful sight that she got to indulge herself in, along with her companions.

She instinctually looked to her left, about to make some witty comment regarding how such a romantic view was so cliche-

...Only to remember you aren't here with her.

The smile that was originally forming vanishes quickly, her expression growing more somber.

As much as the pain in her heart aches, she knows that you wouldn't want her to dwell on your absence.

Forge ahead, that was the way of the Trailblazer.

(Stelle) "One day, I'll get to tell you about this planet."

Fists clenching, she walks along the path, not looking back.

Stelle's phone wallpaper of you and her smiling together is what reminds her to keep pressing on.

Kuchizuke shite inochi no hi wo tomosu hito yo A person who lights fire of life,

March sits on the side of her bed, staring at her wall of photos, each one bringing a bright smile to her face as she recalled each memory.

But it was shortlived, as her sight inevitably caught sight of the side of you and her together.

Throughout her journey on the Astral Express, she had met countless individuals. Plenty of which she cherished like dear friends and missed them dearly, and plenty more she hoped to never see again in the vast universe.

And there was no one March missed more than you at this very moment.

The photos she took of you two ranged from hilarious to lovey-dovey, to kinda inappropriate for the situation, but each one inflicted a pang of sadness and joy.

Standing up from the bed, March walked over and grabbed one of her favorite photos: One where she was dramatically kissing your cheek as you were laughing, a moment she recalled with perfect clarity.

(March 7th) sigh "I'll add some new photos onto this wall, just you wait!"

Toki to iu kin'iro no sazanami wa The time, the golden ripple,

Himeko put down her coffee as the Astral Express was still in transit, watching as the stars slowly passed her by.

Her eyes glanced to her left, feeling something missing in her usual routine.

And of course this moment didn't feel right: after all, her lover was currently absent.

But that didn't stop her from always putting your favorite teacup next to hers, in some small hope that you'd take your spot like always.

Himeko knew better, logically it made no sense for you to show up right now.

Even so, it was a sign, that she'd be waiting to see you again, no matter where the Astral Express takes her, she'll be able to have you in her arms sometime, somewhere.

Instead of saying anything, she quietly chuckles to herself, going back to her coffee.

Yet, there was a hint of sadness in her recognition, one that her friends could always sense everyday that you were gone.

Ozora no kuchibiru ni umareta toiki ne is sigh from the lips of the sky,

Natasha slumps down on her bed, sighing as she felt how cold it was to the touch.

Another long day taken care of, with many more patients out of her office.

Usually it didn't bother her as much, but these days the solitude was starting to become deafening.

Especially when you weren't here to greet her like always.

Natasha's hands massage her temple, knowing that spiraling wouldn't bring you home, any more than her patiently waiting.

Even the Moles could tell that Natasha wasn't the same without you here to wrangle them in, or give her a loving embrace.

Rolling to her side, she turns to the empty side of the bed, her hand reaching out and feeling only a cold sheet.

(Natasha) "...Just be patient, Nat..."

Saying nothing else, Natasha eventually falls asleep, the only warmth coming from her blanket.

Kokoro ni uzumoreta yasashisa no hoshitachi ga hono age yobiau The stars of kindness buried in heart flame up and call to each other,

Seele just kept herself busy instead of thinking about how much she missed your voice.

There was plenty to do, but every now and then, she would catch herself thinking that she couldn't wait to tell you a story from that day, or something interesting she found.

Only for the excitement to be culled instantly, remembering that you aren't here.

(Seele) sigh "Damn it..."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Seele shakes her head and looks up to the sky longingly.

(Seele) "...Don't keep me waiting too long before I see you again."

Next time she saw you, it'd probably result in both a punch and a kiss.

Seele thought you drove her insane when you were actually here.

She had no idea how much she'd miss that feeling when you were gone.

Namima sasurau nampasen no yo ni Like wrecked ships wandering on the waves,

Being the Supreme Guardian was no easy task, but it was work she found satisfaction in.

Especially now that her people didn't have to live in constant fear anymore.

She had help from the Astral Express, Seele, Natasha, and so much more.

Yet, it was your aid she craved the most, and was one she wouldn't be able to receive or reciprocate it.

Bronya exhales from her nose, putting down her pen for just a moment.

Looking at the picture frame of you and her smiling brought a small tear to her eye, one she quickly wiped off.

It wasn't goodbye, not really. At least to her.

(Bronya) "You're not gone…You're…just not here right now."

One way or another, she'll be able to tell you everything that's happened when she sees you again.

Mo nakanaide ima anata wo sagashite iru hito ga iru kara Don't cry, any more, because now there is a person looking for you, Omae ni aitai yo to Dying to see you...

Firefly strolled quietly through this planet's field, feeling the wind against her skin blow gently.

It was nights like these that usually got her thinking about plenty of things that brought all sorts of emotions out.

This night being no exception, especially since you were on her mind.

Firefly closed her eyes as a pang of sadness tugged at her heart, but that wouldn't stop her.

Even if it took the rest of her life, she would wait for you.

...No, she would find you first. She'd burn so bright, that it'd be impossible for you to miss her, no matter where you are.

(Firefly) "There isn't anyone in this world who can live alone...Not even you."

Taking a deep breath, she let her armor rapidly form, before the thrusters let her take off at blinding speeds, shooting off towards the stars.

[inmyheaddd]

tornado warnings - luke castellan x reader

⤷ “i think somehow in my mind, if i can convince him— if he doesn’t see it, then maybe it doesn’t exist.”

summary: the aftermath of your best-friend-or- something-more luke’s betrayal, where he comes to ask you to join him. everyone’s asking how you’re holding up, and it feels better to lie than accept the harsh truth. warnings: angsty angst, fluffy flashbacks, kissing, takes place in first book, percy is the best little brother figure!!, (this is vv heavily based on tornado warnings by sabrina)

you didn’t know, you really didn’t know.

i mean, you should’ve. 

luke had been acting strange, and every time you asked him what was up, he would say nothing and do something like kissing your forehead - knowing it would make you whirl. 

looking back, was any of that real? or was he just being affectionate to keep your suspicions at bay. 

was he playing with your emotions, just because he knew that he could?

the dining pavilion buzzed with noise, but all of it felt distant, muffled, like you were underwater. you caught glimpses of the looks—the counselors and camp members pretending not to stare but always whispering about you.

they pitied you. you hated it.

—

“you’ve been pretty quiet lately.” the new camp therapists voice broke the silence: soft, but you could hear the way she was trying to get you to lead into something more. “i can’t imagine it’s easy, with everything that’s happened.”

you hated that—how patient they all were, like they were just waiting for you to crack.

“there’s not much to say.” you shrugged, “i seriously don’t care. i mean— he made his choice, right?”

“it’s okay to be hurt, i know you and luke were close. he meant a lot to you.” 

your stomach still dropped at his name. you hated how much it still stung to hear it out loud. 

“not like that,” you muttered. “everyone keeps saying that, but it wasn’t… like that.”

the silence stretched, and you felt the weight of it, pressing you down until the memories you’d been shoving away started creeping back in.

“everyone’s just making things up. yeah, we were close, but…” 

she was silent for a second, jotting something down in her book.

seriously, why did you have to be here? this was not helping.

“so, you had no romantic relations with him?”

“no, no no no. never.” you shook your head, but you had a feeling she still didn’t believe you. 

“i— well.” you choked on your words. “i had a crush on him for a little bit,” not a lie, “but it’s not like we ever kissed or anything.“

she nodded, jotting another thing before closing her book and placing it beside her. 

she crossed her legs as she took off her glasses, in a faux display of a sense of comfort, as if it would get you to feel the same. “how are you really feeling about all of this? how do you think seeing him like this affected you?”

you stayed silent for a second. if you were being honest, you felt like you were suffocating.

was it selfish that the worst part wasn’t the fact that he betrayed everyone, but the fact that you lost your best friend?

“i didn’t even see him before he left— before everyone knew about what happened, so… not a lot.” you said through a forced, hollow chuckle. 

why was it so hard to admit the truth when it came to him? 

“you didn’t?”

“no.” you responded far too fast. “i’m probably dead to him.”

— 

last spring…

“shh, everyone’s sleeping.” you dragged a very drunk luke through the woods, to get to the back door of your cabin. it was ridiculous how hard it was to get him back to his cabin without making noise. 

“i am shhh-ing! i’m so quiet.” he slurred his words as he finished the rest of his ice cream you two had snuck out for. 

“luke, shut up.” you tried your hardest to keep a serious face as you turned to look at him, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

he immediately began laughing too. standing in the dark of the night, stars twinkling in the sky as you stood in the middle of the woods. 

you looked up at him, “shh!” you managed, still laughing despite yourself.

“you shh.” he countered, pointing at you sloppily with an accusing look on his face.

“we’re gonna get caught,” you said slightly strained, struggling to hold him upright as he swayed dangerously close to falling over.

“no,” he grinned, leaning on you a little too heavily. “you’re with me. no one’s catching us.”

his confidence was misplaced, but it was so… luke; always sure things would go his way. “we’re definitely getting caught if you accidentally push me over and kill me.”

“i’m so sneaky,” he ignored your protests, drawing out the words as if it made him more convincing. “you’re lucky to have me.”

“oh yeah, super lucky,” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling as he leaned on you for support. “now come on,” you laughed, “before we—”

but you stopped, noticing the way his laughter had faded, replaced by a silence that felt different. his eyes were fixed on you, more serious than before. 

he was standing upright now, and the humor felt far away.

your smile faded as you continued looked at each other, and you began to feel like there was something on your face with the way he was looking so intently.

“what?” you murmured, as you brought a hand to the corner of your lips, seemingly the spot his eyes kept flickering to, “ice cream?” 

“no, no,” he murmured, shaking his his head, “i…” 

he seemed to have sobered up quick. “can i kiss you?” he whispered the words so suddenly, with a hint of hesitation. it took you a moment to register what he was asking you. 

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, and soon enough a smile tugged at the corner of your lips before you could stop it. 

luke’s sly grin returned, his confidence back just enough to tease you. 

“yeah?” he murmured with that smile of his as one of his hands came up to your face.

you rolled your eyes in response, not able to wipe the smile off your face as luke leaned in. it was impossible to hide how much you wanted this too. “yeah, idiot.”

with one hand cupping your face, the other on your waist and pulling you close, he finally pressed his to yours.

your lips moved against him slowly at first, but you quickly gained rhythm against his. 

he tasted sweet with the remnants of the ice cream from earlier still lingering in his mouth.  

you could stay like this forever. 

—

after you pulled back, he stumbled a little as you both started walking again. his arm slung around your shoulders and you guided him to the last few feet to the back door of your cabin. 

“we’re so dead,” you muttered, but there wasn’t any real urgency in your voice now.

“nah,” luke grinned, leaning in close as you reached the door, his breath warm against your ear. “we didn’t get caught.”

you glanced around, finding that the coast was clear, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “not yet.”

he laughed too, his arm slipping down to your waist as you both quietly walked the rest of the way. you made it to the door, and he gave you a triumphant look, eyebrows raised.

“see?” he whispered, pulling you close for one more kiss before you had to go inside your respective cabin.

“told you. we’re so sneaky.”

you shook your head, trying not to laugh again as you said goodbye to him and watched him send you a wink as he walked back to the hermes cabin.

the warmth of his kiss was still lingering on your lips as you lay in your bed hours later.

—

present…

you sat by the lake, knees pulled to your chest, staring out over the water. 

“hey.” percy’s voice startled you from your thoughts. you hadn’t heard him walk up. he stood there for a moment, awkward like he wasn’t sure if you wanted company. 

you didn’t, but he sat down anyway.

you stayed silent, staring out at the lake. percy’s presence was comforting in its own way—he didn’t push like everyone else.

he just waited, giving you time. finally, he broke the quiet. “you know it’s not your fault, right?”

you tensed. you’d heard it before, from chiron, annabeth—everyone. but somehow, hearing it from percy made it harder to dismiss.

“don’t make this about me,” you said through another forced chuckle, “he almost killed you, perce. i’m…” you shook your head. “i’m so sorry.”

“you didn’t make him do this, why are you sorry?”

you let out a long exhale. “i could’ve stopped him,” you said, barely above a whisper. “maybe if i’d tried harder, if i’d been there for him more or something”

“no,” percy cut in, his tone gentle but firm. “this isn’t on you. you couldn’t have known— the guy fooled everyone.” percy continued solemnly, and you just nodded in response as you stared at your knees. 

in some sort of moment of understanding, he gave you a sympathetic look.

“i’m sorry that you lost a friend.” the boy ended with.

“yeah,” you nodded, “me too.” 

—

2 nights earlier…

the sky was dark with the stars hidden behind the  thick clouds. the air felt hot. 

“luke…?” you spoke into the dark woods, leaves crunching under you as you stepped slowly. “what- what are you doing here?” you had some big speech prepared as you walked here to meet him.

he sent you a note asking to meet you. you only went because you wanted to make him hurt, like how he hurt you. 

but now, standing in front of him, you felt like you had forgotten every word in the english language. 

“come with me,” he said, standing up the second he saw you and walking up towards you with pleading eyes. “leave all this behind. you deserve better, you know you do.”

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “you lied to me, you lied to everyone. you hurt me.”

“we deserve to live our life! the gods don’t care about us, we’re pawns in their game.” he said expressively, his emotions reflecting in his voice. 

“i’m trying to give us a chance.” his voice was lower now as he reached out his hands for yours. 

you shrugged his hands off of you, taking a step back as you shook your head.

“we? us? there is no us, luke. not anymore.”

“don’t be like that, please.” he begged, “i’m doing this for us.” 

“no,” you shook your head, taking a step back, “you’re doing this for yourself.” 

he was growing more exasperated by the second. “you don’t get it. you never did.”

the words stung more than you wanted to admit. he would tell you you were the only one who had understood. you thought you knew him— you’d seen his pain, the way he felt betrayed by the gods, his dad, by everything. 

but this? this wasn’t the luke you knew.

he seemed to notice the hurt in your eyes, so he stepped forward, his voice softer this time. “i need you with me,” he said, his hand cupping the side of your face. 

“you and me… we’re the same. we don’t belong here. we’re better than this.” 

his words were tender, coaxing, and for a moment, just a moment, you wanted to believe him. “i love you.” 

you shook your head, looking down at your shoes, “don’t say that.” 

he ignored you, pressing on and on. “just think about it. when was the last time you felt like you were really living in this place?” 

every moment with you, a part of you screamed. 

did everything that happened mean that little to him? 

did everything really feel like a chore? everything?

“this is my home. this is the only place that has ever felt like home.” you retorted as you stepped back, regaining your senses as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“you’re insane if you think i’m leaving everything behind for you.”

gods, how you wish you never met him.

how you wish you never fell for him, how you wished you never kissed him, how you wish you hadn’t come out here into the woods after seeing that stupid note in scrawled handwriting you knew to be his on your bed, asking you meet him. 

luke pressed his lips together, “i see how it is.” his jaw clenched as he turned his face away from you, looking down to the side as he shook his head. 

“don’t say i didn’t warn you.” 

your eyes prickled. “i hate you.” you spat.

he was silent for a moment, “yeah.” he nodded as he brought his head to meet yours, swallowing thickly as his eyes cut through yours for probably the last time. 

“i know.”

present…

you crossed your arms tighter, as if that would help hold you together.

“sometimes,” the therapist said, her voice still maddeningly soft, “we tell ourselves things didn’t happen the way they did, because it’s easier than admitting how much they hurt.”

you chewed on your bottom lip, refusing to meet her eyes. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

but the lie sat heavy in your chest, because you did know. you knew exactly what she was talking about.

the truth was, you thought about him all the time. about that kiss, about how you almost felt like saying yes to him. about how much you missed him, even now, even after everything.

but you couldn’t admit that. not here. not to her. not to anyone.

so you stayed quiet, letting the lie sit between you both, heavy and suffocating. 

because it was easier than the truth.

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual 

[stylesispunk]

"Where is my love?"

Joel miller x f! reader

summary: Isn't she coming to me?

w.c: 7k>

warning: angst, mentions of death, and grief.

a/n: this is a sad one and closer to my heart because grieving is the love we can give to people who are gone. The only change of this is that has been ten years since the "end of the world" and is based on the last chapter of the show. reblogs and comments are always appreciated and for the love of god, can you please help me with inspo for writing, I want to write for other characters, so if you have any suggestions are welcome. Have a lovely reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika

masterlist

Your paths crossed a long time ago. When the world had descended into madness, the souls met the dead in a now forgotten land. He came across you, and he fell in love with you. The sunlight radiating after the freezing storm was a fire keeping his brittle heart warm.

You had saved him from ending his own life that day, when he had lost faith in a horror movie without an ending or a purpose. He did lose everything he had known—everything he had ever loved and protected—but he had met you.

For him, you were an angel, not delicate nor free from sins, but an angel who appeared after he thought he had met his spirit in heaven.

You have looked after him and Tommy for days, taking care of their well-being and taking care of the reminiscing scar plastered on Joel’s forehead as a reminder of his almost-death encounter with his angel, you.

And you had loved him ever since; you found yourself increasingly drawn to him, not just for his vulnerability under your eyes but because he had brought sense back to life. His presence seemed to chase away the shadows that had been going to hunt you since now.

As the days turned into weeks, months, and then years, the bond between you and Joel only grew stronger. You found yourself drawn to his strength, his resilience in the face of adversity, and the way he faced each day with unwavering determination.

You had loved him after acknowledging every terrible thing he had done, and you loved him anyway. The darkness inside of him, taunted by the loss of the previous time, didn’t prevent you from looking at him as if he hung the stars of the sky. You both looked at night before sleeping, trying to find some reassurance.

Together, you faced the challenges, from the first days of the end of the world to the QZ, to Ellie, to where you were right now, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

Now, here in Jackson, in the quiet moment before sleep, you and Joel would still gaze up at the stars, finding solace in the vastness of the night sky. And as you held each other close, you found reassurance in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

Joel broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with the weight of years gone by. "You know, I never thought I'd find this kind of peace again. Not after everything that's happened."

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness. "We've been through hell and back, Love. But somehow, we made it together."

He reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort your touch brought to him. "I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted, his voice breaking a little.

"You don't have to find out," you replied, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what."

Joel nodded, his gaze returning to the heavens above. "Yeah, together," he echoed, as if trying to convince himself of the truth of those words.

"You will never lose me,” you whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. "And I'll always be here to guide you home."

He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips over his skin. "I love you," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of pain and longing.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you.

Being in Jackson brought you back to a civilization, to peace, to a place where you could both sleep next to each other at the same time without fearing other people coming for you.

But as much as you cherished the peace and stability that Jackson provided, you couldn't escape the reality of everyday life. With it came the mundane challenges, the petty conflicts, and the occasional tension that threatened to disrupt the tranquility you had found together. There were disagreements, misunderstandings, and moments of frustration that tested the strength of your relationship.

You felt a rush of joy as you entered the door of your Jackson home. You couldn't wait to tell Joel about the trade you had made, so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction.

"Joel," you called out, your voice full of anticipation as you approached the living room where he was sitting. "Guess what? "I made a trade today."

Joel looked up from his book, interest in his eyes. "A trade?" "What did you get?"

You smiled, holding out the little camera you'd traded for some extra food supplies. "I exchanged some of our extra coffee for this camera! It's in excellent condition, and I thought we might use it to save some memories."

As you proudly showed the camera, Joel's initial curiosity turned into an unhappy face. He set down his book and looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and stress.

"You traded all of our extra coffee for a camera?" Joel repeated, his voice filled with frustration. "We rely on that coffee, you understand. It's not simply an extravagance; it's a product in high demand here in Jackson."

You faltered, understanding the potential repercussions of your impulsive trade. "I know, Joel, but I thought..."

"You thought what?" Joel interjected, his irritation growing. "That a camera was more important than having enough food to get us through the winter? "What if something happens and we need that coffee?"

You bit your lip, feeling a sense of remorse rush over you. "I didn't think of it that way. I just thought it would be wonderful to have something to save our memories."

Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I understand, but we must prioritize our needs before our wants. You cannot go out there and make bad decisions."

His words hurt, and you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You didn't plan to compromise your safety, but in your excitement, you forgot to consider the repercussions of your actions.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you said quietly, feeling a sensation of shame rush over you. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being this childish," he murmured, strolling past you to the kitchen and leaving you in

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being so childish," he replied, walking past you to the kitchen and leaving you in the living room with a bitter taste in your mouth.

A wave of guilt swept over you. You didn't mean to act impulsively or selfishly, but you now see that your actions had far-reaching implications.

Feeling the weight of Joel's disappointment, you remained in the living room, staring at the camera in your hands, your heart heavy. You realized he was correct; you needed to be more responsible and more aware of the circumstances and the actions that could affect your survival; being at peace in a place did not imply the risk had passed.

With a heavy sigh, you lay the camera down on the table, the excitement you had felt earlier replaced with a sense of regret. Joel's words lingered in your head, reminding you of the excitement you had felt earlier, replaced by a sense of remorse. Joel's words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the need to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You walked upstairs to your room, and with a heavy heart, you lay in bed, the events of the day on your mind. Despite the comfort of the blankets that surrounded you, you couldn't shake the sense of remorse and sorrow that persisted within you.

You closed your eyes and replayed the conversation with Joel in your head, each word stinging like a sharp reminder of your failure. You knew you'd let him down, and the thought gnawed at you, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

And as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of Joel's disappointment gradually began to lighten. A few hours later, you awoke to the faint click of a camera shutter. Blinking sleepily, you opened your eyes to see Joel standing by the bedside, a tiny smile on his lips as he held the camera.

"What are you doing?" you said, your voice still laced with sleepiness.

Joel chuckled and lowered his camera as he neared the bed. "Just capturing a moment," he said, his eyes filled with adoration as he glanced down at you. In confusion, you furrowed your brow and sat up slightly in bed. "A moment of me sleeping?" you asked, feeling both amused and fascinated.

Joel nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, a second while you sleep. You looked beautiful; I couldn’t resist."

Despite the lingering anger from earlier, Joel's gesture made you feel warm. It was a modest act, but it showed a lot about his remorse and faith in your relationship. Reaching out, you took the camera from Joel's hands, studying the image of yourself sleeping soundly.

"I look horrible," you muttered. Joel softened his smile and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Liar," he muttered. "Sorry for how I acted earlier." He moved forward, pressing his lips against your cheek this time.

"You're just an old, grumpy man," you remember, with a tiny giggle. His soft kisses eased the tension between you. His amusing response lightened the mood and lifted the sadness that had been in your heart.

"Old grumpy man, huh?" Joel chuckled, shaking his head in mock indignation. “I’ll show you what this old, grumpy man can do,” he said, planting a more urgent kiss on your lips this time.

You worked hard in the weeks following your fight with Joel to repair the distance that had grown between you. Despite the apparent signs of peacemaking, you still had a persistent sense of insecurity.

Then a new woman arrived in Jackson. She was closer to Joel's age, and you couldn't help but notice the easy connection that had developed between them. They spent a lot of time together, whether on patrol with Tommy or speaking in the common areas of Jackson.

You tried to ignore the jealousy that was bubbling up inside of you. After all, Joel had always been polite and accommodating to strangers, so there was no reason to suspect anything other than friendship between them.

But as the days went on and you saw Joel and the new woman form a stronger bond, your concern grew. You couldn't escape the nagging suspicion that there was something more between them—something that harmed the precious trust you'd worked so hard to build. 

On today's evening, as you watched Joel and the woman laugh from across the room, you felt a pang of jealousy. You excused yourself and withdrew from the privacy of your thoughts since you could no longer contain your feelings.

You were alone in the living room, struggling with opposite emotions. Part of you felt ashamed for doubting Joel and allowing jealousy to cloud your thinking. But another part of you couldn't help but feel sad and insecure as if you weren't enough for him; after all, it wasn't just you, him, and Ellie outdoors any longer, and here in Jackson, you weren't the last woman in the world.

As you sat alone in the living room, buried in your thoughts, the sound of steps broke your state of trance. Looking up, you noticed Ellie enter the home, looking bright and cheerful, until she spotted your teary eyes.

"Hey, I missed you at dinner in the bar," Ellie said, concern etching her features as she approached you. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to brush off her concern with a forced smile, but Ellie wasn't fooled. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, your voice betraying the turmoil within you.

But Ellie wasn't about to let it go that easily. She moved closer, her gaze searching yours with intensity. "No, it's not. What happened? Why are you crying?"

Your heart ached at the concern in Ellie's eyes, and despite your best efforts to hold back the tears, they continued to fall. "I...I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "I just...I don't know where Joel is."

Ellie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Joel? He's eating with Tommy and the new girl, why?"

You shook your head, unable to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you repeated, feeling the tears threaten to overwhelm you once more. "I just...I need to talk to him."

Sensing the urgency in your voice, Ellie nodded in understanding. "Okay, let's go find him," she said, taking your hand and leading you out of the house.

As you followed Ellie towards the bar, your heart raced with fear and anticipation. You knew that whatever awaited you there, you couldn't continue to let your doubts and insecurities consume you.

Once inside the bar, you noticed Joel in the crowd, his gaze settling on yours with a warmth that shot an emotion through your chest. It was as if a magnetic force drew you closer together, despite any remaining doubts.

You moved across the crowded bar, Ellie's hand firmly clutched in yours, Joel's smile widening, and his gaze never leaving yours.

Finally reaching Joel's side, you felt a wave of relief sweep over you as he held you in his arms. The warmth of his hug swept away the residual frost of doubt, leaving you with an eager sense of calm and belonging.

"I missed you," Joel murmured, his voice soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into Joel's embrace, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only you and Joel locked in a tender embrace. It was as if time itself had slowed to a halt, allowing you to savor the precious moments you shared together.

As Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, you felt a rush of emotion swell within you, a profound gratitude for the love and support he had always shown you.

As the tender moment between you and Joel lingered, a voice interrupted, pulling you back to the present. "Hey, Joel!" called out a cheerful voice, and you turned to see a woman approaching, a bright smile on her face.

Joel turned to face the stranger, his arm still wrapped over you protectively. "Oh, hey Rachel," he said, a warm smile on his face. "This is my girlfriend," he added, introducing you. Then he turned his face to introduce the stranger to you. "This is Rachel, and she is new to Jackson."

You smiled politely at Rachel, but a tinge of dread came over you as you watched how she drew in closer to Joel, her hand casually resting on his free arm. You repressed a jealous pang and pushed yourself to keep a friendly demeanor, even though your heart squeezed with uncertainty.

"It's nice to meet you, Rachel," you said, your voice solid despite the tumult inside you.

Rachel returned the welcome with a warm grin, and her eyes flickered with intrigue as she glanced. between you and Joel. "Likewise," she replied, her tone friendly but tinged with a hint of flirtation.

As the night went on, you couldn't ignore the sense of unease that hung in the air. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, Rachel's lingering touches and seductive glances at Joel gnawed at your insides, stoking the jealousy that threatened to engulf you.

With each passing moment, it became more difficult to ignore Joel and Rachel's growing friendship. Their laughter and friendly banter got on your nerves, reminding you of the bond that they had.

You tried to ignore your misgivings and enjoy the evening with Joel, but insecurity weighed heavily on you. It felt like you were on the outside looking in, watching helplessly as Joel and Rachel got closer with each passing second.

Rachel's flirtations became more daring as the night progressed, her touches lingering a bit too long and her laughter provocative. Despite your best attempts to remain calm, the jealousy simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode.

You stole looks toward Joel, hoping to find reassurance in his eyes, but he seemed unaware of the impact Rachel's actions were having on you. It was as if she had enchanted him, consuming all of his attention.

You excused yourself from the table, unable to take the sight of Joel and Emily's flirtatious behavior any longer. You could understand, after all, that Joel was a handsome man who hadn't received this much attention since the world ended; yet, that didn't make it any less painful.

As you excused yourself from the table, a slew of feelings surged through you—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of isolation. You longed for Joel's reassurance, his acknowledgment of the hurt that Rachel's behavior was causing you, but as you stole a glance at him, you saw only obliviousness in his gaze.

With a heavy heart, you moved away, your footsteps quietly echoing on the bar's hardwood floor. You felt Joel's stare on your back, but you couldn't force yourself to look into his eyes, scared of what you might find reflected there.

As you approached the edge of the room, you hesitated, your back facing Joel, struggling to find the perfect words. Finally, you spoke, hardly rising above a whisper. "I need some air," you remarked, your voice filled with anguish.

After a period of silence, you felt Joel's hand on your arm, warm and soothing. "Hey," he replied quietly, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of longing and frustration. "I just...I need some time," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll be outside."

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with understanding as he nodded in response. "I'll come find you," he promised, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand.

But instead, as you walked towards the house, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on you, you felt Joel's presence beside you. His steps were quiet, but his presence was comforting, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your pain.

"Hey," Joel said softly, his voice breaking the silence between you. "I'm sorry about back there. I didn't realize... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

You glanced sideways at Joel, the warmth of his gaze softening the edges of your frustration. "It's not your fault," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "I know you didn't mean to."

Joel fell into a step beside you, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. "I just want you to know that you're the only one for me," he said earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity. "No one else matters, not like you do."

“You could have told her about it,” you said, frustration edging into your tone.

Joel's expression faltered slightly at your words, a hint of defensiveness flickering in his eyes. "I didn't think it was necessary," he replied, his tone tinged with irritation. "I didn't want to embarrass her or make things awkward."

You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, the sting of jealousy and insecurity reigniting in your chest. "But by not saying anything, you made me feel like my feelings didn't matter," you countered, your voice tinged with hurt. "You made me doubt myself; doubt us."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just didn't know how to handle the situation."

The tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions pressing down on both of you. You wanted to believe Joel's assurances of love and devotion, but the lingering doubts and insecurities threatened to cloud your judgment.

"I need to rest," you said, changing the subject, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Tomorrow, we need to get up early for the patrol.”

“Actually, I’m not coming with you,” he said carefully.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll promise Rachel to...“

The air crackled with tension as Joel's words hung between you, his admission weighing heavily on your heart. Anger flared within you, fueled by hurt and betrayal.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice laced with frustration and disappointment. "Why would you choose her over me?

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with regret. "I’m not choosing her over you; I would never do that," he replied, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't realize it would upset you."

You shook your head, unable to hide your frustration. "You should have talked to me about it first," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "You should have considered my feelings."

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Joel, the ache of disappointment echoing within you. As you retreated into the solitude of your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could withstand this latest test or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unresolved conflicts and broken promises.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!” you exclaimed as you kept walking.

The next morning dawned with a strong sense of tension in the air, the previous night's events still fresh in your mind. As you awoke from your sleep and began to prepare for the day ahead, the pain of disappointment and deceit chewed at your heart, casting a shadow on the early sun.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside any remaining doubts and concerns, determined to focus on the task at hand. As you approached the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a soothing reminder of Joel's presence.

You discovered him standing by the counter, holding a warm mug of coffee, and preparing a second cup for you. His expression was solemn.

His eyes were downcast, as if weighted down by the events of the night before.

"Morning, angel," he said, his voice tinged with regret, as he gave you the mug. "I made some coffee."

“Thank you, but I’m leaving,” you replied, shortly walking towards the door.

"Angel, wait," Joel called out, his voice pleading as he reached out to gently grasp your arm, halting your departure. His touch was warm against your skin, a silent plea for you to stay and hear him out.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to escape the tension that hung between you and the longing to resolve the issues that had driven a wedge between you and Joel. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face him, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

“Take care; you know your safety is the most important thing for me,” he reassured, meeting your sad gaze.

"What a shame you're not going to be there to protect me," you replied bitterly, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. The words spilled out before you could stop them, a reflection of the pain and frustration that churned within you.

Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with remorse as he reached out to gently cup your cheek.

Joel closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss filled with longing and remorse. It was a silent reassurance of his love and commitment, a promise to mend the wounds that had been inflicted upon your relationship.

As the kiss lingered, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. Despite the pain and hurt, you knew that Joel was sincere in his desire to make things right, and you were willing to give him another chance.

Pulling away, Joel met your gaze with a mixture of regret and determination. "We'll talk when you get back," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "I'll be here waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of agreement, you returned Joel's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of your shared commitment to each other.

As you and Tommy ventured out on patrol, the rhythm of your footsteps echoed against the deserted streets of Jackson. The tension that had weighed heavily on you began to ease slightly, replaced by a sense of purpose as you focused on the task at hand.

"So, what happened between you and Joel?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you. His voice was filled with concern, and his eyes were studying your expression carefully.

You sighed, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "We had an argument," you admitted reluctantly, the words heavy on your tongue. "I just don't know how to trust him again."

Tommy nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get it," he said softly. "But you have to remember, Joel cares about you more than anything. He'd do anything to protect you, even if he doesn't always show it the right way."

You mulled over Tommy's words, the weight of his reassurance providing some measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty that plagued you. Despite the doubts that lingered in your mind, you knew that, deep down, Joel's intentions were genuine and his love for you was unwavering.

"I know," you replied, a sense of resolve creeping into your voice. "I just need to figure things out."

Tommy placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with empathy. "You will," he said confidently. "And when you do, Joel will be right there waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of gratitude, you continued on your patrol, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your shoulders but with a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Tommy's support and reassurance, knowing that with his guidance and the strength of your bond with Joel, you would find a way to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

“Of course, you will say nice things about your stupid brother,” you joked.

Tommy chuckled at your jest, the sound carrying through the quiet streets as you continued on your patrol. "Hey, he may be stubborn and thick-headed sometimes, but Joel's got a good heart," he said with a grin. "And he cares about you more than anything."

You couldn't help but smile at Tommy's words, grateful for his unwavering support and his ability to see the best in Joel, even in the midst of conflict. "Thanks, Tommy," you said sincerely, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. "I appreciate it."

Tommy nodded in response, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime," he replied, his voice laced with warmth. "We're family, after all. And family sticks together, no matter what."

As you and Tommy continued your patrol around Jackson, everything was eerily quiet, with the only sound being the subtle crunch of gravel beneath your feet. The weight of insecurity lingered in the air, but you pressed on, determined to do your job and safeguard your town.

A group of people appeared from the shadows unexpectedly, their faces hidden by the night's darkness. Your heart jumped into your throat as you understood the danger that was immediately surrounding you.

You weren't a weak person; in fact, people considered you a powerful fighter, always merciless when it was required and determined to save the ones you cared about, so your instincts kicked in and your senses heightened as adrenaline flowed through veins. Despite the suddenness of the attack, you maintained your composure, guided by your training and expertise.

Until one of them grabbed you and pinned you down, your heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. You struggled against their hold, every muscle in your body tensing as you fought to break free. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the grip of your assailant remained firm, their strength overpowering.

With a surge of desperation, you summoned all your strength and training, channeling it into a fierce struggle to break free. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to overcome this unexpected obstacle and emerge victorious.

Beside you, Tommy fought valiantly against the other attackers, his determination matching your own as he defended against the onslaught. Though outnumbered and caught off guard, you refused to give in, clinging to the hope that help would soon arrive.

“So, you’re Joel’s Miller girl,” a feminine voice said.

The voice cut through the chaos, freezing you momentarily as you tried to recognize the mocking tone. Despite the tense situation, a surge of anger flared within you at the mention of Joel's name. You refused to let fear or intimidation weaken your resolve.

With renewed determination, you continued to struggle against your assailant's hold, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival. Every fiber of your being was focused on breaking free and finding a way to overcome this threat and protect yourself and Tommy.

“Tommy!” you exclaimed, worry creeping up with you.

“I’m fine!” he reassured back.

“What do you want?” You asked the girl, who is now in front of you.

The girl smirked, her eyes filled with venom as she peered down at you, pinned under her. "What do I want?" she said, her voice full of scorn. "I'd like to send a message to your dear Joel. I want him to understand that no one is safe, including his girl."

Her statements enraged your fury, but you kept calm, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of her remarks. "And what message would that be?" you asked, your voice steady despite what was occurring.

As she drew in closer, the girl's smirk deepened, and her eyes took on a malicious glitter. "The message is simple," she stated, her voice low and frightening. "I will take away what he loves.

the most from him, as he did with me.”

“What?” but before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain through your abdomen.

The sharp pain ripped through your abdomen, stealing the breath from your lungs as you gasped in shock. A guttural cry of agony escaped your lips as you felt blood seeping from the wound, staining your clothes crimson.

The girl's cruel laughter echoed in your ears as she withdrew the weapon, a twisted smirk of satisfaction twisting her features. "That's the message," she said coldly, her voice dripping with malice.

You didn’t want to die here without seeing the smiles of the people you loved.

Your vision blurred as waves of pain washed over you, threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. Through the haze of agony, you fought to stay conscious, your thoughts consumed by a desperate need to survive, to make it back to Joel, to warn him of the danger that now threatened you both.

“Hey, stay with me. I’m taking you to Jackson,” Tommy said desperately, but his voice was just an echo at this time.

The world seemed to spin around you as you fought to hold onto consciousness, Tommy's voice barely registering amidst the haze of pain and confusion. Every fiber of your being screamed in agony, but you refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you.

With a herculean effort, you summoned whatever strength remained within you, clinging to Tommy's words like a lifeline. Through sheer force of will, you forced your eyes to focus, locking onto Tommy's determined gaze as he lifted you into his arms.

The journey back to Jackson was a blur of agony and desperation, with each step sending waves of pain coursing through your battered body. But with every labored breath, you clung to the hope that burned within you—a determination to survive and protect those you loved.

As the walls of Jackson loomed into view, relief flooded through you, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. With Tommy's unwavering support, you stumbled towards safety, with the promise of medical aid and the comfort of Joel's embrace urging you forward.

As you were carried through the gates of Jackson, the weight of exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm you.

Tommy stepped into Jackson's doors, crying out for help as you lay practically still in his arms. The wound in your stomach was major, and he couldn't shake the thought that you would die as a result of his inability to protect you.

As Tommy stormed through the doors of Jackson, his voice buzzing with desperation, terror spread throughout the neighborhoods. People turned their heads, concerned expressions on their faces, as they saw you almost unresponsive in his arms, crimson blood covering the clothes you were wearing.

A crowd swiftly gathered around Tommy, their alarming murmuring filling the air. Tommy ignored them, focusing entirely on getting you the help you so desperately needed.

As Tommy went towards the improvised infirmary, frantic yells sounded out, requesting the medical attention they had here. His steps were heavy with guilt, and each instant seemed to last forever as he feared the worst.

Finally, the infirmary doors swung open, and a team of medics led by Jackson hurried forward to take you from Tommy's arms. They worked fast and effectively, their expressions serious as they assessed the seriousness of your injury. 

Tommy stood back, his hands quivering with terror and remorse, as he saw the doctor rush into action. He couldn't shake the notion that your condition was a result of his failing to safeguard you from harm.

Joel's heart was tight with fear when he saw a commotion near the infirmary. Without hesitation, he raced towards the crowd, his instincts screaming for him to get to you as soon as possible.

Joel's heart raced in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd, finally arriving at the infirmary entrance. He saw you, pale and frail, in the arms of the doctors, your life hanging in limbo.

Joel moved forward without hesitation, arms outstretched, reaching for you. "No," he murmured hoarsely, terror and desperation evident in his tone. "Please, don't let her die."

The medics stepped aside, allowing Joel to take you into his arms. As he held you close, he could feel the warmth of your body against his, but it was too still, too fragile. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, silently praying for your recovery.

“Hey, angel,” he murmured, finding strength in his voice. “Open those beautiful eyes of yours for me, baby, okay? Please, do it!” He continued sobbing as he caressed your hair. “I can lose everything, but not you... Oh god, not you, please?”

Joel kept holding you in his arms, preventing you from going away from him, and you could feel his touch, his care, and his voice pleading with you to stay with him. You wanted that, you wanted so bad, but the strength was dying inside you, and everything you ever knew went black.

You became a lifeless frame in the arms of your biggest love. When you stopped breathing, Joel’s heart stopped beating because, as if it was glass, it shattered.

The look of the doctor and the face of Tommy told them the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, confirming the unthinkable: you were gone. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Joel's world shattered around him. He clung to your lifeless form, his body racked with sobs as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss.

"No, no, please," Joel choked out, his voice breaking with grief as he held you close, unwilling to accept the truth of what had just happened. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his sobs echoing in the silence of the infirmary.

For a moment, time stood still as Joel clung to you, unwilling to let go and unwilling to accept that you were gone. The world around him blurred, and the pain in his heart was too overwhelming to bear.

But as the reality of your loss settled over him, Joel's grief turned to rage, a primal, consuming fury that burned through him like wildfire. With a guttural cry of anguish, he cradled you in his arms, his body trembling with the force of his emotions.

In that moment, Joel felt as if his world had come crashing down around him, leaving nothing but darkness and despair in its wake. He had lost everything—the love of his life, his reason for living, his angel.

And as he held you close, his heart shattered into a million pieces, each one a painful reminder of the love he had lost and the life that had been snuffed out too soon. For Joel, the world had ceased to exist, consumed by the gaping void left in the wake of your passing.

He was never going to kiss you again; he was never going to hold you close at night or wake up to your smile in the morning. The future he had imagined, filled with laughter and love, now lay shattered at his feet.

A few hours later, Joel woke up in your shared bed, and you were sleeping next to him.

Joel's hand extended out to touch you, and a sense of warmth and comfort came over him. For a little while, he felt the smoothness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed peacefully beside him.

But then reality slammed back in like a tidal wave, yanking him from his comfortable state of sleep. His hand gripped the empty air, his fingers wrapping around nothing but chilly emptiness.

Joel's eyes opened abruptly, and he found himself lying in the dimly lit space, alone in the bed that had previously accommodated both of you. The ache in his chest returned with vengeance, a searing pang of anguish piercing his heart as he realized you were no longer alongside him.

Joel let out a deep sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, the memories of the dream still fresh in his mind. It felt so genuine and so vivid that, for a brief minute, he believed you were still alive and with him.

You were gone, taken from him in a cruel twist of fate, and no amount of dreaming could bring you back to him.

It's been a week, and he didn't attend your funeral because he was unable to accept that you were no longer alive.

Until today, when he stepped out of the house, which was surrounded by the flowers that some members of the community had left for you, and walked to your graveyard.

As Joel approached your graveyard, he felt an enormous burden settle over him—the weight of grief and loss that had been his constant companion in the days since your death. The walk appeared longer than it had ever been, with each step weighed down by the weight of his grief.

As he reached the grave, Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of the newly turned earth and the plain headstone traced your name as if it were your face. Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of freshly churned ground, with a simple monument marking your final resting place, acted as a sharp reminder of your absence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you; I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he laid a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the headstone, each bloom a silent tribute to the love and loss he felt in his heart. The scent of the flowers mingled with the earthy aroma of the graveyard, a poignant reminder of the fleeting beauty of life and the inevitability of death.

Joel's voice quivered as he spoke, every word heavy with the weight of his despair and sorrow. He kneeled near the grave, his hand resting on the cool surface of the headstone, seeking comfort in the memory of your love.

"I want you to know that it was never me who protected you, but you who protected me," Joel said quietly, his words barely audible above the delicate murmur of the wind through the trees. "You were always the one who gave me strength, who showed me what it meant to love and to be loved."

As Joel spoke, tears streamed down his cheeks, revealing his real and unadulterated grief. At that time, surrounded by the serene tranquility of the graveyard, he felt profound loss, a yawning void that could never be filled.

"But now you're gone," Joel added, his voice breaking with sadness. "And I do not know how to go on without you."

Joel rose to his feet after one final long glance at the headstone, a sensation of purpose coming over him. He may have lost you, but he promised to always carry your love with him, to respect your memory in all he did, and to find a way to move forward, even in the face of his greatest pain.

You were always in every star shining above, in the sky.

He was back in the dimly lit room, with the weight of the grief still over his shoulders, and with trembling hands, he reached for the small camera you had traded, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device.

As he turned it on, the screen flickered to life, illuminating the darkness with a soft glow. And there, displayed before him, was the image he had captured of your sleeping, your peaceful expression a bittersweet reminder of how simply you could make him happy.

With a heavy heart, Joel reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the patterns of your face on the screen. It was as if he could feel your presence beside him.

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he lingered on the image, his heart aching with longing for the touch he could no longer feel. But in that moment, surrounded by memories of you, he found a glimmer of solace, a reminder that though you were gone, your love would always remain.