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#'surely you know by now...no no i refuse you would be that cruel'
littlestarconch · 1 day
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Sense of Longing
Pairing : Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel x Reader
→ Hurt/Comfort ; Headcanon form ; Separate ; Established Relationship
🪄 :: Cruel 😭 , Now I feel guilty for even thinking about leaving.
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Xavier
Literally turning the world upside down trying to find you.
Sleeping away his desires.
Sometimes he would even hallucinate that you're in front of him.
There are days where he dreamt about you, but then he woke up— making him felt even more lonelier than before.
Fighting wanderers even more aggressively due to his mind is only filled with you, who did not respond to his texts, nor read them!
It left him devastated, though he may not show them physically.
But his actions are getting more and more reckless each day that passes without you.
There are also times where he got injured because of this recklessness.
And you know what he did? He left it as it is, just letting it heal by 'itself'.
Your return— feels unreal for him
It feels like it's a dream, he was sleeping like usual, but hearing your voice woke him up.
It took him a good minute to realize he's not dreaming.
He would talk to you like how he usually is in his dreams, that is until he felt your warmth on his skin.
He stared at you, his hand unconsciously reached out to your arms.
When he' sure enough that it's actually you— be prepared because he will pull you into his arms.
Heavens! He will refuse to let go even! You have to push him away if you want to breathe.
But I believe y'all won't push him away.
Ever since your return, your first week is filled with Xavier just clinging onto you everywhere you go.
Not quite literally, but you get me.
Sleeping, with you in his arms, is a must.
If not, he will not be able to go to sleep.
Also please comfort him, he had been sleep deprived ever since the day you left without saying anything </3
He longed to be comforted in your arms, feeling your fingers running through his hairlocks.
He longed for listening to your heartbeat, listening to your voice.
He missed them, too much that it hurts.
He didn't realize how much he missed you until you appeared again in front of him.
Zayne
Working.
Doing his thing like usual, though, he will unconsciously look over his phone to see the long waited notification from a certain someone.
When he did not see anything, he, felt quite, weird at first.
Is it worry? Is it sadness? What is it??
At first he will simply shook the feeling away.
But he will no longer able to ignore them after a week have passed.
A week without any news from you left him confused and worried.
He will also not show this feeling, he is literally so stoic no one would be able to figure out he's actually missing you.
Even he, himself, didn't realize he missed you.
He buried himself in his work, staying up late. Even went as far as pulling an all nighter.
There are days where he accidentally fell asleep in his office due to the lack of sleep he gets.
He will still, unconsciously look over his phone to see if there's anything news coming from you despite him burying himself in work.
Other doctors and nurses is definitely worried about him, he had not left the hospital for a long time.
They literally had to send him home to make him go take a proper rest.
Since your disappearance, he would try do things that you usually do.
But everytime he did so, his mind wander off to the memory of being together with you.
Your smile, your voice, your touch.
He missed them.
A lot.
And he is well aware of how much he needed to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your touch once more.
Your return— made him want to immediately pull you into his arms and never let you go.
Upon seeing you in front of him, he wanted to just engulf you into his hold, and just stay like that till he let go and probably will be more than 30 minutes.
But he kept the feeling down by checking if you have any injuries while you were gone.
If you confirm there are no injuries, he will let out his desperation.
Of how much he missed you, slowly approaching you.
His hand on your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand brushed against the lines of your cheek.
Do the same to him, holding his face with both of your hands.
You will see how he just melt into your hold, kissing your palm as he pulled you even closer to him.
Soon he finally engulfed you into his arms, burying his face to the crook of your neck.
Whispering how much he missed you.
Make sure you spare some time for him now, because he will not let you go.
Rafayel
Good God.
He is very worried. Like literally. But on the first week, he would be quite grumpy of how you're not even reading his messages.
But after 2 weeks of no news from his favorite bodyguard turned his angry thoughts to worry.
He had stopped painting after a week have passed without any texts coming from your side.
His mind could not think of any inspiration, all he could think about is just,
Where are you? Are you hurt?
So many thoughts coming through his mind, but he tried to push them off by telling himself that you can handle yourself without any help from him.
But even so, that did not calm his mind at all.
There are days where he went to the beach at late night.
Watching the seas as his mind wanders off thinking about you.
The studio felt so cramped despite the large size, is it because of the messiness in it?
He refuses to clean up the mess, since he thought that no one will come to visit anyway.
You are literally just, disappeared without a trace, and not even saying a single word to him.
It left him devastated.
He is not aware how much he missed you, he thought that he can handle by being himself like how he used to be.
But you proofed him wrong.
Your return— made him realize how much he missed you.
He couldn't even get angry at you because of how much he longed to see you.
Hearing your voice alone washes the worry away and replaced them with relief.
If you ever ask about him being angry, he will immediately say he's not.
He couldn't.
Not when this feeling of longing overtakes him.
He wants to hold you, and will ask if he can hold you.
Once he gets a yes, he will pull you into his arms.
And let out a shaky breath, feeling you in his arms felt surreal for him.
Hearing your voice, feeling your warmth engulfed his figure.
He realized how much he needed this.
The world no longer colored in grey, the colors have returned, along with his inspiration.
Everything has gone back to it's place, because his muse have returned into his arms.
©littlestarconch
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🪄 :: This is messed up bro 😔
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knight hob knight hob knight hob
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garoujo · 6 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes satoru uses his technique to tease you, even though he’s the one who always seems to give in first.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! fluff, just satoru being a menace, some smooches! that’s all me thinks! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! he’s been on my mind so often, i’m being attacked with all of these thoughts of him <3
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“satoru i swear, put it down!” you whine before you frown up at your ridiculously tall boyfriend, he’s wearing a lopsided grin and you’d take great delight in kissing it off of his stupidly handsome face if you could get passed his even more stupid infinity technique.
“oh? you can ask nicer than that, sweet girl.” gojo goads as he leans over you, deliberately close because he knows you can’t close the distance. he liked teasing you like this, liked seeing the way you would pout and groan whenever he did, he liked the way you wanted to touch him— to kiss him, to love him. so he took great pride in seeing you get a little wound up in your want for it.
“satoru!” you hiss as you push into him again, a little closer than last but still not enough to feel the warm press of his skin against yours. he tilts his head as you call his name, his crystalline gaze narrowing as he scratches at his snowy hair, and you give him another sharp frown before you stomp over to drop yourself on the sofa instead.
“come on~ can’t you just tell your good looking boyfriend you want a kiss, hm? just gotta ask.” gojo hums as he follows you, only needing a few long strides before the cushion next to you is dipping under his weight and he’s letting his arm rest behind you— so close yet so far.
“you’re so annoying.” you huff again as you turn to face away from him, refusing to make eye contact this time because you know he’s wearing one of his more handsome grins, one that you know he does deliberately to lure you in— to make you crave the press of his lips with yours. just so he can take it away so rudely.
“don’t be like that. my lips feel so cold, i’ll die here.” gojo’s pouting now, like it’s not his fault he’s still not gotten his kiss. he lets his head fall and rest back against the couch as he groans, whining about how cruel you’re being, hurting his feelings and rejecting his love like this.
“yeah well so do mine!” you retort back quickly and you feel a vein pop when he chuckles, trying to hide it behind another smirk when you shoot him a sharp look from over your shoulder, inching yourself further away on the couch.
but gojo can only resist your adorable little frown for so long himself.
“hm? then you know what to do, let me hear you..” his words take a lower sort of drawl as he follows you along the space, easing himself into your side until you can finally feel the warm press of his skin— finally releasing his technique enough for him to be able to press kisses along your shoulder blades.
but you’re far too petty to give into him now.
gojo groans when you keep yourself facing away from him, his lips making their way from your shoulders, to your neck, then across your jawline before he’s peppering a few sweet kisses to your cheeks and giving you a soft look from underneath his pretty lashes, “..or are you gonna leave me here to suffer?”
“can i have a kiss, satoru.” you mumble between your lips, giving him an inch when you feel his hands press into the dip of your waist— his touch so warm you can’t help but melt into it as you feel him smile against your skin, smugly you’re sure.
“oh, didn’t hear you, baby. little louder f’ me.” you groan at that, and gojo squeezes you closer— pressing you into his chest as he leaves a soft kiss at the corner of your lips, so close to where you want it, to where he needs it. he’s held out for long enough, he’s pretty satisfied with his teasing now.
“can i please have a kiss, satoru.” you finally give in and he’s on you immediately as he presses his lips to yours, exhaling like he’s been starved of you for months. your lips part and he takes that as an invitation as he pushes his tongue between them, groaning when your own comes to meet him and he already feels lightheaded as he closes his lips to suckle languidly.
another few moments, blissfully dreamy moments with your lips on his— his hands are on your hips now and your fingers are in his hair, pressing deeper into eachother as your mouth moves with his. he pulls away to breathe, as much as it pains him, despite the way hes kiss drunk and flushed— already leaning in for more.
“see? was that so hard? always holding out on me. so mean~”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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blue-ink-pearls · 3 days
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So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:
Sklonda literally said it was him
Bobby Dawn has always been a predator
The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.
So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.
Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.
When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!
The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.
The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.
The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.
He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.
Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.
Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.
*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!
**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.
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anashins · 5 months
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Five Times a Day
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Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: angst, romance, smut
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: After Jaehyun's ex drops the fact that they have once done it five times a day, you are eager to keep this record up.
A/N: Retroactive jealousy is real and this is me processing this problem. Maybe some of you can relate - remember: We're in this together and are stronger than our insecurities!
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You sipped on your smoothie, barely listening to your friends who were excitedly talking across each other. Under usual circumstances, you would have been able to enjoy this gathering among you girls, but today… not at all. 
In fact, you were in a sulk. And it was all because of a guest from a past you had deemed forgotten already.
“By the way…” Said guest suddenly turned to you with a feigned, overly sweet smile. “How is Jaehyun?”
You rolled your eyes, refusing to look into the face of the girl who had just asked you this question. You had known she would eventually come up with this topic. After all, your boyfriend, Jaehyun, was her ex boyfriend. Justifiably his ex, though!
She had gone behind his back and cheated on him with his friend. It had been you who had mended his broken heart with no ulterior motives in the beginning, but after that cruel woman had moved away, it had evolved into something that the both of you had underestimated.
You had given him time, treated him with nothing other than patience and understanding, until one day, he had been able to move on with you who had no intention of hurting him in the same manner ever again.
“He’s perfectly fine, we’re so happy,” was your equally overly sweet reply.
Your best friend’s nudge into your side with her elbow pulled you out of your sulking attitude as she was silently begging you to get a grip of yourself. You just shrugged, reminding her that you had only tagged along because you were nosy and wanted to boast, and that you had no intention of being friendly. You just couldn’t have missed this opportunity to see how she was doing, no matter how much you resented her.
Jaehyun’s ex had been in your friend group back then and was now in the city for a few days, so everyone had accepted her invitation to meet up to reminisce about the old times - including you and your big ego. You slowly regretted it, even though you had only come to brag to her how much happier he was with you. It was just so exhausting to be fake-friendly.
But to prove to your best friend that you were ready to compromise, you added sharply with triumph in your voice, “We live together now.”
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” the ex’s voice echoed through the café as she clapped into her hands. “I also have a new boyfriend with whom I live with!”
The other girls congratulated her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so as well. All you could think of was whether that guy was also a poor soul she would soon destroy. That was until she mentioned something else that only you could probably hear.
“Now that we live together, we do it like five times a day.” She chuckled, lowered her voice and leaned in to you. “Jaehyun has been able to do just as much. Say, does he still live up to it? You must for sure know.”
You resented her so much.
____
First
You woke up way before Jaehyun when the sun shone right into your face as you had forgotten to pull the curtains together the night before.
It was almost 7 in the morning, and soon, your alarm would go off so that you would only see each other again later that evening when you came back home from work. You were determined to beat the clock before that would happen.
With much caution, you lifted the blanket and crawled under the duvet to Jaehyun’s side of the bed. He only groaned when you accidentally leaned on his shin, but you were still able to settle on his legs under the blanket without waking him up fully. 
You reached out your hand and stroked the small mound under his pajama bottoms. It didn’t take long for that mound to turn into a firm bulge and for Jaehyun to react to your stroking with his thighs moving against your palm.
You didn't know whether he was awake yet or not from under the covers, but you liked the thought of this exact uncertainty. To push this act further, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his bottoms and dragged the fabric downwards to the point where you could get a hold of his member and pull it out entirely.
Your fingers wrapped around Jaehyun’s length and you started moving them along his shaft until it stood nearly parallelly to his stomach. Sitting yourself up to be able to tug your own panties down, you shuffled forwards and guided his tip to your entrance.
When you slowly sank down onto him, you heard a loud moan from the other side of the blanket that was still covering you. Tight hands gripping onto your bum when you had taken him in fully, confirmed to you that your boyfriend was now awake - and ready for whatever was to come.
“Good morning,” you whispered, your head now peeking out from under the duvet.
Your boyfriend was still lying on his back with his eyes closed, but you still perceived his sensual and exciting expression as he licked over his lips and groggily fluttered his lids open.
With a grin, Jaehyun greeted you hoarsely, “‘morning.”
Your palms were placed flat onto his chest as the blanket slipped over your shoulders along your back and revealed your upper body that was only covered in your silken top. To Jaehyun, this was a sight he couldn’t get enough of, jolting him entirely awake now.
You put your weight on your forearms, just enough for you to lift your hips and come down at him again. Not much later, your moans filled the entire room, sunlight dancing across your skins on whichever part was currently in the right angle as you bobbed up and down on him.
Your back arched, your hair falling over your shoulder blades in long, silken streaks as the strands simultaneously moved to the rhythm you applied to Jaehyun’s groin. Not much later, your skin was glistening with sweat and you fell limply on your boyfriend’s chest as you had run out of strength.
Putting his arms around you, Jaehyun hurried you along until you bit into his shoulder to suppress your scream as you shook in his embrace. Shortly after, when you slowly calmed down, it was his turn. With his fingers entangled in your hair, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, faltering between every syllable as he came.
You had never doubted that Jaehyun loved you very much. You had been very sure that he loved you even more than when he was the happiest with his ex-girlfriend.
But now, you weren’t quite so sure anymore. 
Not even when he took his time and risked being late to work just to cuddle with you in the aftermath.
____
Second
“What are you doing here?”
Jaehyun looked at you with very much surprise from across his desk when you closed the door behind you. You had visited him a few times at his workplace already, to bring him food or quickly say hello when you had been in the neighborhood - but never with such an intention.
The fabric of your trenchcoat felt cold on your skin as you wore nothing underneath other than the lingerie that you had actually wanted to save for your anniversary celebration. But until then, you had decided, you would buy a new set and use this one for this certain occasion.
Jaehyun couldn’t believe his eyes when you opened the coat’s belt across your waist and flashed him the sexiest set of red underwear that he had hopefully ever seen in his life. You physically watched his jaw drop and him taking off and then putting on again his glasses just to make sure that what he was currently witnessing was, indeed, real.
“Today is not my birthday, right?” You saw him gulp as his Adam’s apple moved along his neck, and you had to suppress a chuckle catching him so off guard. “Then I must be dreaming.”
“You’re not,” you answered and approached him in your heels that were also new. “Today is just your lucky day.”
“Then can every day be my lucky day?”
When you stood right in front of him after he had come forward from his seat, you let the trenchcoat slide down your shoulders, revealing the new bra fully, and your boyfriend couldn’t take his eyes off of you once again. 
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered before his head disappeared between your breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“Then show me,” you challenged him. “Show me how much you want me. Right here and now.”
… and not her, you added silently in your mind, but pushed this intrusive thought right aside, because you wanted to live in this moment with Jaehyun and no one else.
“Very well,” he agreed and helped you take off the trenchcoat.
You were allowed to keep wearing your lingerie when Jaehyun grabbed you by your buttocks and placed your legs around either side of his hips just so that he could carry you. With one swift motion, he had turned you to his desk and kept you in place with one arm while the other reached out and threw everything in his reach from the desk onto the floor. 
Then, he placed you on the surface and parted your thighs with his hips. The moment he loosened his tie was the moment you lost it too, because, once again, it hit you out of nowhere how perfect your boyfriend was and that you actually shouldn’t care who had been with before and what he had done with that person.
Jaehyun was all yours when he slipped his fingers into your lace panties and pushed them into you to collect the fluids inside of you as you had gotten so wet already. He was all yours, when he dragged his hand along your folds and caused you to shudder with this motion only as they reached your clit. 
And he was also all yours when you couldn’t bear it for much longer and put your heels up on either side right on top of the desk to give him better access to enter you.
You were laying flat on the surface with your elbows propped up for support so that you could watch him thrust right into you. Jaehyun’s hair swung with each push and grew damp over time on the tips that touched his sweaty forehead. His fingers were still buried into your upper thighs so that no thrust would go astray, and when he looked up, you encountered this hungry look in his eyes.
He was long not done, and you only hoped that his short lunch break was enough for what he had still in store for you.
And as you were finally letting yourself go too, lying back down on the desk and moaning his name just loud enough to not to travel to the other offices, you wondered if he had done something like this before just by the way he knew what to do and how to enjoy it.
____
Third
You had set up a fancy dinner for Jaehyun later that evening. After having surprised him at his office, you had gone straight back to your own workplace and finished earlier to buy and prepare his favorite food.
By the time he was home, you had the appetizer and steak with side dishes ready, and even though you had been in a hurry to fix dinner, you were pretty impressed with how everything had turned out. After all, today, everything had to be perfect for this mission.
“Are you sure it’s not my birthday or another important date that I forgot about?”
Jaehyun raised a brow when he saw that you had set up the whole atmosphere with fancy crockery, cutlery and even lightened up candles. Usually, on weekdays, when you both had to work, you just threw something easy and light together and ate on the couch in front of the TV.
“Can’t I just do something nice for my boyfriend when I have the day off?”
“I mean… I’m not complaining. But this is the third nice thing you’re doing for me today. What did I do to deserve this?”
You put your hands around his neck and shook your head. “You’re just being you. Isn’t that enough.”
You got on your tiptoes to kiss him and were already looking forward to serving him dessert. And with “dessert” you didn’t mean ice cream or cake, because you had not prepared such. With “dessert” you meant having Jaehyun right under you at your mercy not even an hour later.
“Stop, stop!” Jaehyun breathed and stretched out his hand to gently lay it on the top of your head.
With a slurping sound, you let go of him and looked up to your boyfriend who was spread out on the couch underneath you. 
“You don’t like it?” you worried, because Jaehyun actually never said no to getting head. Again, you wondered what you did wrong and if he had ever said no to his ex. You bet not.
He cupped your face and softly pulled you up to him so that you were now hovering over his chest. “That’s not what I mean,” he grinned and kissed your smudged lips. “You did so much for me today, let me do something for you too.”
Not much later, you were a writhing, whiny mess, legs locked between Jaehyun’s head while he licked you like you were his literal dessert after this feast. You had cum twice in a row already and were thinking that if he wouldn’t stop now, you wouldn’t have much energy for the real deal soon.
“Already out of breath?” 
“Please… I just want you inside of me,” you begged.
“Very well.”
He took you on all fours from behind this time, fingers entangled in your hair and pulling you back every now and then to either kiss you or groan lewd words into your ear that made you blush slightly. In no way would one assume your boyfriend had this side to him if one were to meet him on the streets. 
How lucky you were. 
And other girls before that too, apparently.
But again, you pushed that thought aside when Jaehyun smacked your cheek and you let out a shriek that blended with your orgasm in the exact same moment. Pain and pleasure became indistinguishable, and that made it even more exciting as you experienced a high that only seldomly occurred. 
When you laid with your sweaty bodies chest to chest, you came to the conclusion that it probably truly didn’t matter what had ever been before you when the present was so beautiful. 
You didn’t want your insecurities to get the better of you, but your boyfriend was so perfect that you constantly wondered if one day, he would have enough of you if you couldn’t give the best like he deserved.
____
Fourth
“No.”
Your heart sank and you directly pulled your dressing gown close again. Underneath it, you wore a negligee that only rarely got put into use, but for the fourth time today, you wanted to present it to Jaehyun when he returned from the bathroom.
You only had two more times to go, you assumed you could get it done right now.
Your disappointment and shock were very visibly written all over your face though, and immediately, your boyfriend started to apologize.
“Look…” He seated himself next to you on the bed and looked at you with apologetic eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up over this! I really appreciate everything you did today, but it was a long day overall for me and I have to get up early again tomorrow. I just can’t keep up anymore today. It was great three times, but I’m physically at my end too and I really need to sleep soon.”
You didn’t want to say it. You truly didn’t. But your impulsive part had gotten the upper hand as all your feelings that you had been suppressing throughout the day boiled down to this one sentence,
“I bet you didn’t say that to your ex when you did it five times a day.”
For an unusually long time, Jaehyun stayed quiet and you feared that you had sabotaged your relationship at this point. 
“I knew there was something up with you,” he eventually said. “You shouldn’t have gone to that gathering, even though the other girls are still friends with her.”
“But I did, because I’m nosy and foolish.” You paused. “Are you mad now?”
“Yes.” Your heart dropped, but before you could defend yourself, Jaehyun continued, “I’m mad because you have let her confuse and make you question our relationship based on… what?”
Ruefully, you confessed, “She said that you had sex five times a day.” You sensed how he repressed laughter that was deeper than usual, so he wasn’t making fun. “What is it? Is it not true?”
Honestly, perhaps you should have asked Jaehyun before reacting blindly out of impulse, because after all, this cheating girl was a liar. But sadly, he dismissed your glimpse of hope.
“We did.” Jaehyun’s head dropped at the same moment as your heart. “This is true.”
“Oh…” 
You knew the person you should be angry at was yourself, not Jaehyun or his ex. You hadn’t been romantically involved at that time, it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with you. But you couldn’t help but to compare yourself to her over and over again. 
What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just switch this off? Why was there no button connected to your feelings?
Something warm suddenly touched your hand, and it was Jaehyun’s, taking yours into his. You didn’t dare to look up, that was how ashamed you felt for yourself. 
“It was only one time,” he started calmly. “There was a snowstorm outside, so it was dangerous for her to go home. She stayed an entire day and night, that was when it happened. And do you know why it happened?”
You shrugged. You were unsure whether you actually wanted to know all the details to feed your insecurities even more.
“Don’t worry, the answer won’t be as you expect.” Jaehyun squeezed your hands and continued with a patient, tender tone, “The reason wasn’t because I found her more beautiful or hotter than you. Believe me, you are the only one for me. I cannot even look at other women and not think ‘Wow, I got the most beautiful girl out of all the girls in the world. She’s so perfect, I’m so lucky!’” Your cheeks were burning, but you kept listening diligently. “The reason was because we literally had nothing to talk about.”
Now, you lifted your head and faced your boyfriend who encouragingly smiled at you. He was sincere, you saw it clearly in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that whenever we spent so much time with each other, we never had something to talk about. We had absolutely no common interests or topics of which we felt the need to engage in. The only attraction we had was a physical one, so when we were forced to stay with each other so long, there was nothing else that we could do.”
Jaehyun let go of your fingers and wrapped his hands around your waist instead to pull you into his warm lap, and you let him.
"Absolutely nothing?” you wanted to make sure. This indeed surprised you.
He chuckled ironically. “Yes, absolutely nothing.”
“But we always talk non stop.”
“I know.” You felt his full lips pressing into your cheek and smiled. “We are not only physically connected, but emotionally as well. Isn’t that beautiful? Do you know how much that is worth and that some people seek for a connection like ours an entire lifetime? I enjoy physical contact with you just as much as our conversations and laughter. There is no need to fill a void, because there is none in the first place.”
You had never thought that Jaehyun felt like that and it touched your heart very deeply. “When I heard her saying this, I was worried you would soon be bored with me if I couldn’t keep up.”
“No, don’t ever think that!” Jaehyun drew you close to his chest and you laid your head on his shoulder. “Our love came unexpectedly for each of us, and I think we both had to learn that the right love was calm and steady, not these highs and lows with many fights. This is how it’s supposed to be, don’t let it make you feel unsure because you’re not used to it too. We’re here now, we shouldn’t look back.”
Hearing this from him set your mind at ease. It made many things better that were here temporarily, but you were also aware that in order to fight any doubts you were holding against your relationship, you had to fight your inner demons first. 
It couldn’t be done in a day, but you would work hard, taking one step at a time and just believe in your boyfriend who assured you every day in many ways that his feelings were true and unwavering, no matter how big the demon had grown at this point. 
“I love you, Jaehyun.”
“Of course I love you too.” He chuckled. “You make me laugh, you defend me, you fight me, you challenge me, and whenever I’m at my wit’s end, you bring me back to life. This is worth so much more and there is no one else I can ever imagine being with again. To me, you’re perfect.”
“Funny,” you whispered as you felt him pressing a kiss onto your parting. “I always think that about you too.”
There was no need for a fourth or fifth time.
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serpentandlily · 7 months
Text
Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst
a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part III
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 
“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”
After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 
But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 
Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 
Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 
Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 
Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 
"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."
Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 
"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."
Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.
"So why are you here?"
"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.
You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 
"You did." 
"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”
"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"
You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 
"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."
You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 
“Where are you going?”
You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 
You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 
“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”
“You still said them.” 
“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”
You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 
“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”
You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”
“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”
“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 
Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 
“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 
“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 
“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”
You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”
But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 
When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.
Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 
You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.
Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 
You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”
He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 
You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.
“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 
The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 
But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 
Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.
Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.
They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 
You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 
Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—
Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 
Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 
You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 
“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 
Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”
Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”
He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 
You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 
Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 
You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.
Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 
Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 
And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 
“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”
Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 
“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 
“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 
“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 
Rhys read from the letter out loud:
To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,
I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.
In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 
I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.
Sincerely yours,
Prince Cedric of Vallahan
Heir to the Throne
A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”
Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 
Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 
“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 
You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 
“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 
“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.
“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 
“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 
“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 
Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 
“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 
“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 
You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 
He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 
He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?
His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 
His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 
He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 
And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 
Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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villainousauthor · 1 month
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Hero stares down at the paper in front of them with mounting dread. Their stomach is all tied in knots, and they feel a cold sweat at the back of their neck.
"You know, you don't have to do this if you truly don't want, I'm not forcing you." Villain purrs behind Hero, voice against their ear. The threat is unspoken. If Hero doesn't sign, they'll continue with their rampage. Continue killing, destroying, maiming.
The pen shakes in Hero's hand as they continue staring down at the paper. It's just a piece of paper, made of thick cardstock, cream white. Yet Hero has been staring at it for fifteen minutes, as if it'll bite them.
Certificate of Marriage
The font is too pretty, all stately and official looking. Hero feels as if they may throw up any minute.
"I don't understand why.." Hero finally finds their voice, asking the question that's been bouncing around in their mind since Villain first pulled the paper out as they suggested a truce.
"You already know my terms. In exchange for leaving your hero friends unharmed, for leaving the civilians of the city unharmed, I want you." Villain's voice is something possessive, filled with fire and heat. "This just makes it more official. More binding."
Hero shudders, and they feel as Villain steps closer behind them, a dark shadow looming over them. They know this goes beyond simply wanting to make their agreement more binding and they both know it.
"You know it's not legitimate- it's not legally binding without an officator." Hero stumbles over their words, not even sure if that's true.
Villain snorts, not usually one to be worried about legality of course. They put a hand to Hero's shoulder, warm and rough.
"I can find a priest to threaten. No one needs to know how and when we signed. Unless you'd rather make a big ceremony of this." Villain's tone is now teasing, amused by the idea of a wedding. "That could certainly be done if you prefer."
Flushing hot, Hero shakes their head quickly. No, they would not prefer that. This is already nerve-wracking and humiliating as is. A part of them wants to outright refuse, to tear the paper the shreds, and throw it in their face, but Hero knows this is the chance to get Villain to back down.
"I wouldn't be unkind to you." Villain says, voice suddenly softer and more serious. They lean forward, face resting against Hero's neck. The most terrible part is that Hero knows they mean it. They wouldn't be unkind or cruel, and that makes this all the more difficult. "You'd belong to me, but I'd take care of you."
Hero already knows there's no choice. They knew from the beginning that there was no other option. They have to do what is best for everyone else. Shakily, they finally nod.
"So selfless, so sacrificial to others." Villain says as they place a feather light kiss against the shell of their ear. "We'll have to work on that once you're with me."
They take Hero's hand currently holding the pen in their own, their grasp strong, as they lift it to the paper.
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elatedfool · 1 month
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SEEING AVENTURINE IN THE LIVESTREAM MADE ME THINK ABOUT MEMOKEEPER! READER WITH HIM :o
I mean since he have such a tragic past, it would be very interesting to see someone who can look into his memories as a Sigonian
I'm so happy you like him too (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) hope I'm not troubling you
not at all :3 this will contains some leaks and fanarts i've seen about his past! may not be 100% accurate. also memokeepers can choose who they want to be visible to, but i'm not sure about the fortune telling part. this still looks bad despite being in my draft for days goddamn.
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the first time he met you was when you're passing by ipc's pier point, only to spot an exhausted aventurine splayed on his million-credit couch.
since memokeepers are able to become invisible, you curiously approach his room, intrigued by his wealth. and out of kindness, you carefully moved him into his bed, before finding his 'aventurine' stone—which indicates his importance to the corporation.
your growing curiosity led you to pry into his past, watching all the hardships and suffering he had to go through during his childhood, which was supposed to be filled with joy and laughter. instead, you watch as they place thick and heavy chains around his neck and wrists, left him with little to no food, marked his neck with the word 'slave', and force the poor boy to work tirelessly. scene after scene plays out like a film, as a proof of just how cruel the ipc can be.
you stopped looking into his memories, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. you would never guess that this easygoing and arrogant man hides such a past.
eventually, you start following him around—watching him gamble, standing in the corner when he sleeps, even sneaking into the ipc's annual meeting just to make sure he's safe. you find him fascinating, the way he can acts so haughty while having experienced so many things he should never have gone through.
until one day, aventurine's guts tell him to catch this strange, mysterious creature that has been stalking him. but you're so hard to catch, so hard that he has to pretend to sleep to make you lower your guard and make yourself visible.
"snooping around again, little memokeeper?" he chuckles the moment you turn around in surprise. you do want to show yourself to him, but not this early! and when you tried to escape, he caught your hand just before you could teleport, pulling you closer, "since you already know so much about me, i can't possibly let you roam freely anymore,"
so now you live with a rich senior manager of the largest corporation in the cosmos, always stuck to his side—aventurine wouldn't like it if you were to use the knowledge about his past for something that'll ruin his business!
he spoils you, of course—while ignoring the weird look he gets from his subordinates and acquaintances when they saw him talking to the air. so you take care of him in return! comforting him when he has a bad day and making sure he did not forget his meals.
this is a memokeeper's love language me thinks: you also create light cones of the moments when he's the happiest—which are usually when you're around, and you bring them to the garden of recollection to make sure you have something to remember him when the fated day comes. aventurine also keeps some of these rectangle objects in his room, and he probably gaze at the pictures when you're away collecting memories.
bonus: imagine aventurine asking you to reveal his luck for today before he went to gamble, to which you refuse, since memokeepers cannot use their powers for self-indulgent reasons—congrats, now you have earned yourself a pouty aven!
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
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König shaving the readers 🐱 while making eye contact....
👄 *bites bottom lip*
I go feral for your writing my dear ❤️‍🔥
"Stop squirming."
Your legs are slightly shaking from the wide spread they are forced into to accomodate a giant between them. The said giant places a large, warm palm on your inner thigh to punctuate his command – and open you up even more.
"Please be careful," you plead as if this wasn't your idea in the first place: to have König shave your pussy with one of his knives.
You were sure he would say no because it's dangerous, but it turns out your shy request was too delicious to refuse. Other men would've probably looked at you like you're a freak and told you to shave it yourself, but König merely tilted his head and told you he would need more than one knife to do it: a big one for larger areas and a few smaller blades to finish.
"Who do you think I am?" He grunts, slightly insulted. You know he's a master when it comes to knives, you would trust this man with your life, but now that he's there, wielding a blade so close to your delicate folds, you're not so sure... What if something slips?
But König is extremely careful, and extremely gentle. This man handles his duties with obsessive dedication, so why would this be any different? And besides, you're not work, you're the love of his life.
He has fallen into some sort of a flow state with what must be two of his favorite things: a sharp, deadly blade and a soft, inviting pussy. You can do nothing but bite your lip as he shaves you with a razor-sharp focus. The knife doesn't hurt you at all: actually, it feels like he's caressing your skin with a feather.
Every once in a while he gives you a glance, probably to see how you're doing. Being on display like this for him is more than enough to make your heart flutter, but it's those dark, heated looks that make you wet.
"There... Endlich fertig." He eventually rises from between your legs and leans back to examine his work with silent approval in his stare. Then he gets a warm, wet towel to wipe you clean, and admires you once more, like your freshly shaved pussy is a work of art.
His work of art.
"Pretty," he concludes, then looks at you with another trademark flash that usually precedes a good wrecking. You squirm again, merely from that horny, promising stare fixed on you from beneath the darkness of his mask. Even your thighs start to drift closed; it's simply a reaction to him being so obsessed with you. You don't even know whether it's born from the instinct to hide your vulnerable parts from a predator or because you know it will drive him crazy when you play a little hard to get.
"Keep them open," he orders, his voice dropping a note or two. You obey immediately; you wouldn't even dream of rejecting him. You only look at him with wide, love-filled eyes as he starts to lift the mask.
You should've known he wants a taste after looking at your throbbing, wet cunt – the one he just called pretty – from up close for solid 15 minutes. You can play hard to get as much as you want, but your pussy always gives you away. It's almost dripping by now, and answers him with another wink as the familiar pair of cruel lips and a brutally scarred jawline are revealed from behind the rising veil of darkness.
And god... He's smiling.
"Have to get my reward, eh?"
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i literally spend at least 2 hours a week just looking at various pictures of the terracotta army. utterly entranced. look at the details in the hair. you'd never see ANY of this when they're lined up in formation, but they're there.  
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theres about 8000 of these guys down there, no two faces are alike. they're works of art. they're the manifestation of a cruel despot's delusions of grandeur. a talisman against the terrible inevitability of death, both pathetic and strangely pitiful. like watching a child clinging to his blanket, begging you not to turn off the light. they were a bunch of insignificant clay statues from a side chamber that was so small and unremarkable, no one bothered to write down the location. they were modelled after real people. their only purpose was to serve qin shi huang in the afterlife, so he could reign in heaven as he did on earth. now the emperor is just a ghost and his pawns are immortal. my dad and i visited them in the dead of winter, on a weekday, just so we wouldn't have to deal with tourists like us. the place had easily 500 people--not including the ones below ground. we traveled to xian via the old "green skin" diesel train. there are faster means, like highspeed rail but dad insisted i try the authentic way, the same way he would have traveled when he was my age it was also like, a quarter of the price but im sure that had nothing to do with it! back in the 80s carriages would get so packed people had to have their luggage passed in via the windows. as we chugged along, i read my book and my dad made us cup noodles. car is just a shortened version of "carriage", the word is the same but the mechanism is different. it's the same in chinese. i think if i told someone from the warring states period i could travel from the Kingdom of Qi to Qin in just four hours with my metal carriage, i'd be laughed out of town--or accused of being a spy and sentenced to 'death by carriage.' we hopped off the train at 4am and took a different "carriage." the taxi driver joked; "basically every dynasty put their capital in xian, stick a shovel anywhere and you'll turn up some national treasure or another." i wonder what it would have felt like to be a farmer digging a well and then out pops a remarkably realistic human head. statistical analysis show the soldier's faces bear a strong similarity to people living in the region today. the taxi stopped in front of a jewellery-hawking tourist trap and refused budge an inch until we went inside. did you know the terracotta soldiers were originally multi-coloured and painfully gaudy, just like the greek marbles? they were made assembly-line style. the arms and legs were made from the same workshops that made clay plumbing pipes and roof tiles. for quality control, the artisans were required to stamp their names. the workers who built these tombs were executed shortly afterwards, because only dead men can be trusted with secrets. qin shi huang's mausoleum is unlikely to be excavated in my father's lifetime, or mine, not unless i'm willing to take a BIG ONE for the team... instead of the tomb, they built some kind of qin shi huang-themed theme park next to it. not only was it tacky as hell the entrance fee was like $50. we went to the museum and i looked at bronze tools and pottery shards for three hours. look why can't we just crack the thing open i can't be the only one here whos dying from curiosity what if we all just took turns digging
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snaileer · 3 months
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The Messenger is Already Dead - 4
Part 1 &2 Part 3
“Talia fell in love with Bruce Wayne!?” Danny says, whipping around to the man in question.
Everything starts piecing together like the worst Fruitloop themed puzzle ever. Danny had seen his face when Batman had removed his cowl of course, and it’d looked familiar, but that could have been anything, he never thought- Bruce Wayne!? His biological father, a man who hadn’t even known he existed, who Danny had never known, was Bruce Wayne? The richest man in America?
“You didn’t know?” Tim asks and Danny wants to scream.
He doesn’t, because that would be unassassiny-like and he’s not 100% sure it wouldn’t come out as a wail- but the desire is very much there. It feels like half of his life-view is crumbling before him.
“No, I didn’t know,” Danny starts tersely, “Talia never told us who Batman- who our father was, not until we could beat her in a fight. I… never got the chance.” He winces at the last statement, feeling the way the room goes colder at the reminder.
“Tt, clearly you would not have been able to anyways.”
Danny feels his eyes flare in frustration as he looks back to Damian, “I was a better fighter than you were, it’s not like you were finishing her challenge any earlier than I was, Damian.”
“The tutors may have favored you but it was not the tutors who bested you was it?” Damian snarled back.
“Whoa Damian-“
Memories flickered through Danny’s mind.
A fight. A snowy cliff. Red. Pain. Cold. Darkness. Green-
“Danny, you good there?”
Danny jerked his head up, not realizing he’d curled in on himself, “I’m .. fine.”
“You sure? You kind of… flickered,” Nightwing said, motioning vaguely with his hands, “Like a lightbulb.”
Danny cringed, “It’s one of the side effects of being like, this,” he motioned to himself, “I’m not exactly meant to exist on this plane of existence so sometimes I.. don’t? I guess? I don’t know, ghostly stuff is always pretty hard to explain.”
A “Hn.” Is all that comes from Bruce.
Danny practically feels their stares close in on him like walls.
“Whatever! The ghost stuff doesn’t matter!” He says, throwing his hands up and rising slightly off the ground, “What matters is that Talia is after me and is probably coming after Damian, so you need to figure out how to stop her. I didn’t come to talk, I came for protection.”
Danny takes a second, mimicking a breath and collecting himself. He couldn’t blow up like Danny, not when he had to make them see him as Danyal.
An Al-Ghul shows no weakness. An Al-Ghul shows no weakness.
“Tt. There is no reason to continue to refuse to call her Mother.”
Danny feels his eyes flare as turns back to where Damian stands, still scowling. Just like he always was.
“I’ve already told you, Damian,” He says, restraining the urge to yell that Maddie was his mom not Talia, “She was not a mother to me and I will not pretend she was when she is the reason I am being hunted.”
“She raised us,” Damian says with a scowl.
Danny feels old anger spark in him, “She trained us.”
He remembers cold nights and hard floors, cruel orders and harsher whips.
“She made us stronger,” Damian says with stone in his voice. Danny hates it, hates it because it’s exactly what they were always told. ‘It made them stronger’ but that didn’t save him so what did it matter? Damian and him never did anything but fight, they never saw each other except to fight, so much so that the first time Jazz invited him to dinner he’d thought she’d poisoned it and tried to burn down the kitchen.
Danny hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it.
He forces himself to let it go. This isn’t him. Not anymore.
Danny turns away from Damian completely, fists still tightly clenched as he looks Bruce- not his father, never his father- in the eye, “Now that you have proof I am who I say, how do we stop Talia?”
Back to business. Just finish this and you can go home.
Bruce turns back to the console, “First, we need to figure out her goals, and where….”
Danny steels himself as Bruce- as Batman-continues. He could do this.
He could pretend to be a ghost of himself for however long it took.
Pretend that he really had died -stayed dead- that day with Damian.
Pretend that he remembered more about his life in the league than he did.
Pretend he wasn’t an entirely different person now.
Pretend like he still knew who he was.
Pretend like every word from Damian’s mouth didn’t pull him back to a time when he was small, too small, but never weak, and-
Yeah, he could totally absolutely do this.
Definitely.
Danny cringes as the butler tells them all that a meal is ready and everyone starts to move away from the darkness of the cave. With every step into the warmly lit lights of the manor above the cave, Danny feels his hackles rise more.
It feels exposed, making him feel like his lies are muddying just by being there, the warmth of the atmosphere, tones of family, grief, growth, loss, suffocating him as he goes deeper. Knowing that he’s part of that, he’s not going to stay, he’s lying to Damian, he’s hurting him, he’s-
Danny gets one step in the dining room before he sees the family dining table sitting there, an ornate chandelier illuminating the plates laid out at each spot, favorite foods in the middle… and two slightly elder ghosts at the head of the table with love in their eyes as they watch the family sit.
He doesn’t belong here.
Danny takes a staggering step back.
He doesn’t belong here.
Damian notices his retreat, mouth opening to speak-
He doesn’t belong here.
Danny turns tail and vanishes, throwing himself back through the ground with intangibility until he reaches the cave. From there he pauses at the entrance they’d come through, turning back instead of running.
The seconds pause is enough time for someone else to notice him.
“Running already?”
Danny lurches, nearly squeaking as he startles and his visibility flickers. He follows the voice to a figure leaning against a slightly dim doorway on the side. An illuminated locker room sits behind him.
“You’re… Jay, right? The Red Hood?”
The man hums and walks closer, “It’s Jason. You’re the new kid. Talia’s huh?”
Danny wants to shrink in on himself, his muscles tightening as he gets closer, “I’m- yeah.”
Jason scoffs, looking up the stairs like he can see straight to the dining room, “God, B and this fucking family…” He turns a critical eye to Danny without moving his head, “What’s got you fleeing so soon? It didn’t look like you were causing any sort of trouble-“
“I just-“ Danny sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t belong here okay? As far as you all know, I’m not even supposed to exist anymore. I doubt you want a dead kid messing up your family, right?”
Something in Jason’s face twitches, his shoulders shifting, “Take it from me, kid… they haven’t even considered that.”
Danny tilts his head, really looking at Jason for the first time, something tickling at the back of his senses.
Jason doesn’t hesitate to meet his eyes.
He looks back through the exit tunnel, turning back a second time, “Tell ‘em I’ll be back okay? Just… not now, alright? But I’ll be back.”
And Jason nods, a silent guarantee.
Danny returns it, finally turning and flying full speed through the tunnels until he meets open air.
It feels slightly sticky compared to the coolness of the cave, but Danny simply looks around to get his bearings before turning into the distance with determination.
He doesn’t stop until he sees the shine of a golden globe pass under him. He enters the hotel straight through the walls of the elevator shaft, dropping his ghost from the second he hits carpeted halls.
And then he pauses…
Which room were they in again?
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long, as one of the doors gets thrown open moments later by the lumbering figure which can only be his dad.
“Ghost!” Dad says as he bends through the doorway, ghost-finder in his hands as he looks around until finally spotting Danny, “Danno! You’re back!”
The incessant droning of the ghost-finder is overshadowed as Danny struggles to breath around his Dad’s hug, “He..y.., Da..d” He wheezes.
He sees Jazz come bursting out of the hotel room next. She gives him a hard look before they’re both swept into Dad’s arms and practically carried back into the room.
His mom is there, tinkering on a tool Danny himself had helped design a few weeks ago.
His dad, of course, goes straight for the fudge in the mini fridge. Danny steals the remote from Jazz and plops himself down on the bed free of machine scraps.
Even as he has to keep Jazz from smothering him with a hotel pillow, Danny smiles. He feels his shoulders loosen for the first time all night.
This. This is where he belongs.
The demon brat’s twin was… something. They hadn’t really had the time to start forming real expectations, but most of them didn’t expect.. a ghost.
Tim can see the way Bruce’s eyes linger on the wafts of snowy hair, aching guilt lining his body whenever Danny’s back is turned even just slightly.
It doesn’t go away as they all file up to a late dinner. By Alfred’s order, they all go, pair by pair trickling up to the dining room like the most awkward yellow brick road ever.
Somewhere in the stilted chaos, Jason manages to slip out from the group, probably the first time he’s left the manor without fighting with Bruce in months.
Of course that hardly matters when the moment they step into the dining room, Danny freezes by the door, flickering again.
Tim watches as his eyes jump across them all, the table, the room, the chairs- Danny steps back and-
Vanishes.
Damian is lurching towards the door, “Danyal!”
But it’s empty. All of them had felt his presence leave, even if they hadn’t realized that’s what it was, suddenly the room is a few degrees warmer and just a bit emptier than before.
Tim looks to Bruce.
They don’t know what that was, why Danny left. Was he just scared? Or could something have happened to him? They didn’t know enough about ghosts, and what they did know said they weren’t very strong. Boston Brand couldn’t interact with the physical world without possessing someone- Danny had already said he wasn’t meant to exist on this plane, had he run out of strength?
Dick approaches Damian still brooding in the doorway, setting a hand on his shoulder- Damian throws it off immediately.
“I am fine,” he snaps, “Danyal is a coward.”
Bruce stands, “Damian, don’t say that-“
“Why shouldn’t I!? What does he have to fear!? He ran away like a coward and left me behind!”
Silence settles in the room.
Tim decides to break it, “Any chance you’re not just talking about him not staying for dinner?”
A knife pierces the wall behind him.
“I will end you, Drake.”
“Master Damian! I do not have enough portraits to continue covering holes in the paneling!” Alfred scolds, standing at the doorway.
Damian stops, glaring at them all before turning to Alfred, “I’ll take my dinner in my room please, Pennyworth.” Then he turns on his heel and strides from the room. It is too fast to be anything but fleeing.
Steph slumps into the chair beside Tim, “Boys are weird.”
Tim scowls, “Oi.”
“I stand by my statement.”
Tags:
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Also btw, I’ve added this to my Drabble/oneshot collection on Ao3. It’s under my same Username(snaileer) with work name ‘Things That Could Exist’
Hope you enjoyed!
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ggsbooks123 · 6 months
Text
Memory Garden
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peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)
summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.
warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do
———
Peeta did this.
The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.
He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.
Another yank.
He blew up District 12
“Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.
“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”
He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”
I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.
“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.
I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.
A sunset.
“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.
“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”
I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”
He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”
I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.
“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”
He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.
My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.
His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.
He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.
I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.
The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.
I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.
The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.
“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.
“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”
“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.
“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.
There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.
But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.
He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.
“Jude… Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.
He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.
Get out. Get out. Get out!!!
I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.
I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.
Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.
I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.
Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.
With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.
Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.
Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.
“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.
“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”
“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”
The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.
“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.
“I understand, but I’m not a child”
“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.
It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.
I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.
“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”
I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.
“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.
“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.
I am unfixable.
“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off
“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.
Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.
I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.
“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”
He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.
It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”
He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.
He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.
“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.
I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”
He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off
“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.
I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.
Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.
I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.
And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.
Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”
I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.
“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.
“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.
“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.
“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”
He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.
— — —
do we want a part two?!?
part two out now!
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
Text
woke up, blamed it on the vodka
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max stares at the ceiling of his room, eyes narrowed into a squint as he vaguely tries to remember what had happened the night before. he refuses to move from his position — the different types of alcohol he had willingly consumed catching up to him with a nasty hangover to go with the god forsaken nausea.
then his body freezes. his heart skips a beat in his chest and he jolts to a state of woke that he wasn’t in until now.
oh, god.
someone needs to sedate him. he can remember it — the one thing he had said to you as you escorted him into his bed with his arm over your shoulder. you had pulled the blankets over his body and gave him a gentle pat on his arm.
he can remember before he closed his eyes, muttering that he loves you, and goodnight. he fell asleep the minute he closed his eyes so he doesn’t even know if you had said anything back.
he’s royally fucked up this time, for sure.
suddenly it feels like every bit of hangover has dissipated from his body. he shoots up from his position on the bed and pats around his duvet from his phone. he has to see what you said to him; if you’ve even addressed his words.
hopefully, you were just as intoxicated as he was when he blurted it out. surely you don’t remember it right?
he’s only been seeing you for about 5 weeks since lando had introduced you to him. he jumped the gun and asked you out on a date. you’ve hung out several times, seemingly in that phase of the talking stage where you simply can’t get enough of one another.
while he knows how intensely he feels for you, even he’s not quite sure that it’s love just yet. he’s smitten, yes, he admires you, yes — but that is hardly considered love at this point.
nothing from you yet. is it that you’re still deep in your hungover state or are you ghosting him from the events of last night’s party? he has never really the type of be able to read between the lines between what girls say, which has led to many several failed talking stages.
which is also why he’s completely tried to avoid dating for a while. but you made him want to dabble in the cruel games of push and pull, made him giddy with smiles after good pickup lines and hoping — badly wishing — that he doesn’t mess this one up.
yet here he is.
max should have spent the rest of his afternoon nursing his hangover. he doesn’t, though. he can’t stop thinking of you and what you’ll say to him eventually when you come over to stay the night.
he’s only ever said ‘i love you’ to one other person he’s dated. it didn’t end well, which would explain the anxiety over your inevitable presence later in the day. he can only list out your possible reactions to him.
will you call it quits the moment you come over? perhaps you’re too generous — you’ll distance yourself over time until he’s got the time to process your separation? will you even show up today?
he rolls out of bed when the doorbell rings and his heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. he wraps his duvet over his shoulders, grumbling as he dragged his feet along the floor to open the door for you.
he opens the door, revealing you with a smile on your face. you’ve got your overnight bag over your shoulder and a plastic bag in your hands.
“hi!” you beam, leaning in to press a kiss on his cheek. you pull him in for a quick hug, which he reciprocates hesitantly as he wraps one arm around you.
you immediately sense the lack of energy, prompting you to pull away with an eyebrow raised as you stand out in the hallway. “is everything okay?”
he barely gets a word out before you’re speaking again. a gasp escapes your lips as you wave him off nonchalantly. “oh, how rude! of course, you must be having the worst hangover. i made you chicken soup.”
“thank you.” he watches in confusion as you walk into his apartment, as you usually would when you agree to spend the night.
he closes the door slowly and walks over to you. the apartment is silent as he watches you walk in and out of the kitchen to prepare him some food.
“um, have you got anything to say?” max asks softly as you step out of a kitchen with two glasses of water in hand.
you look at him, confused, as you walk to the table. “what do you mean?”
max presses his lips together. was he hallucinating when he said it? genuinely, he really thought he was dying after getting egged to drink more than he wanted to. he can vaguely remember the way he was barely able to stand in the elevator without leaning on you for support.
he remembers being in fits of giggles as he watched the numbers on the display change faster than he remembers it going.
“last night,” max stares at you blankly, tightening the duvet around his shoulders.
you have a small grin on your face as you look at him. he looks very cozy wrapped in the duvet, the fabric sitting on his head as he sways slowly side to side.
“what about last night?”
“i,” he trails off, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “i told you i loved you… did i imagine that happening?”
you drop your head, your body shaking with a small grin. “oh, that.”
he furrows his eyebrows. “yeah, *that*. well, you see… i was so drunk from the vodka cranberry i drank like juice.” he watches your face contort into something indescribable: pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. “not that i don’t like you — i *do*, trust me — and i royally fucked up blurting that out. i do like you, i swear! but, god.”
“max.”
he looks at you with parted lips and raised eyebrows. “yes?”
“i knew you were drunk out of your wits last night.” you put the cups down on the table before you walk over to him. “realistically, i barely remember hearing you say it as well.”
actually, you lied. you do remember hearing max say it. as clear as the day. you stayed up all night thinking of it and hearing his voice echo in the back of your mind. you were hoping and praying that he wouldn’t bring it up at all.
while you really liked max, it’s simply too early to tell with things like these. you were afraid that he would remember and that he would double down and say that he means it.
you’re way more glad that he took it back rather than him saying he means it. you’re simply not ready and neither are you sure of your own feelings.
“oh,” max sighs exasperatedly, dropping his head with a soft laugh. he looks up when you hold the duvet and wrap it around his body slightly tighter. “so we’re okay?”
you nod. “we’re okay. now, join me for some chicken soup?”
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@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification
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impactedfates · 3 months
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Hi hi I'm feeling so cruel right now >:]
So uuuh HCs for DH[IL], Jingyuan, Blade and Welt reacts how does their child [reader] dies... Like imagine how reader dies is like how the Genshin Playable characters die [they dusted away]
Please feed me a n gst
—🫶🏻 Anon
★ A/N: The way the reader dies reminds me of how one of my ocs species dies lmao. Hopefully this is up your ally :))
☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Angst
★ Format: Bullet Pointed HeadCannons (It kinda turned into a mini story I think-)
☆ Warnings: Mentions of Death (Readers)
★ Extra: Adopted reader in all // Reader is under 12 for Dan Fengs, and in their teens for the rest // Giving Jing Yuan more of a sad life/hj // Wrote this in WellBeing class lmao // Characters may be OOC
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Dan Feng as a High Elder doesn’t always have the time to really see you. Sure when he first adopted you he did spend a good chunk of his time with you but eventually his duties caught up.
He appointed someone to look after you. Someone that you knew and that he knew. Someone trustworthy.
So when he came back to his home early one day, the house dead silent. He grew worried. He called out to the person, to you. But there was no response.
He walked to your room, perhaps the both of you fell asleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.
But all he could witness was dust covering your room. And the man no where to be seen.
He knew instantly where that dust came from, he was quick to search for him. Found him hiding thinking he could get away, unaware that Dan Feng would be home early, unaware Dan Feng would catch him.
The man he had trusted to protect you, was the same man who ended the life you should’ve continued to have.
Dan Feng was quick to throw the man in the Shackling Prison, praying to whatever Aeon that can hear him that he gets what he deserves.
He collected as much of the dust that was still in his house, the last thing that he had of you. And carefully placed them in a jar.
Many question the High Elder why he holds a jar of dust so dearly to him, and all those times he refuses to answer. Not wanting to break down in front of the other Vidyadharas.
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It was only a mission, a mission he sent you and Yanqing on. He had thought there were only a few Mara struck soldiers that had to be defeated.
He had wondered why Yanqing slowly entered the Seat of Divine Foresight without you. He had wondered why Yanqing was breathing rapidly and on the verge of tears.
Jing Yuan comforted Yanqing before asking about your whereabouts. Perhaps you were getting snacks after a successful mission? Yanqing could only try to explain in a shaky voice, clearly startled and upset.
But why would he be upset? You were his adopted sibling and was usually so kind to him. You wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him?
Yanqing tried his best to explain, stuttering over his words and needing to take a few deep breaths, the General listened carefully.
…Ambush? Well…Jing Yuan supposed he made an error in that. He only thought there were a few. Wow, if you and Yanqing didn’t know about that then you could’ve been caught off guard and…
Oh!
Oh…
Jing Yuan quickly connected the dots, he slowly held Yanqing closer, witnessing his own sibling fall to the hands of the Mara struck then be faced with dealing with the remaining enemies…he couldn’t imagine the stress.
A ceremony was held in your honour. Your dust already gone away like the wind so your memories will follow as he sends multiple starsciff at with gifts.
But he’ll always remember, he’ll remember the regret he felt that he couldn’t do anything nor could he have seen that an ambush would occur.
He wished he could’ve done something.
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Are you dumb or something??
Blade could’ve taken that hit. Why’d you have to take it!?
He would’ve been fine. He wouldn’t been okay, a relief would’ve washed over him even though he knew he’d survive.
So then why did you have to take the hit that was meant for him, and leave him in a state of rage?
He quickly disposed of the pests that caused your demise, before trying to check on you. But all he could do was watch as your body dusts away.
He tried his best to grab any dust he could but most went with the wind. All he could do was stand there questioning why you would do that.
He said he’d protect you. Everyone else in the Stellaron Hunters were busy so he had to take you with him when he did his part. Yet it ended with you gone.
There was a small ceremony for your disappearance from the earth. Elio as much as he may not want too, he continued sending people on missions however allowed Blade to opt out of them he could properly mourn.
Blade still wonders why you decided to save him when he would’ve been fine, he wonders if he’d be able to save you if he noticed the enemy creepy behind him.
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It was just a small argument. Welt felt bad but allowed you to storm off. You’d return eventually anyways. You’d return once dinner was ready back at the express, you knew what time that was.
But you never did return did you? Welt had thought long and hard and was ready to apologise for his words yet you weren’t back yet? Did you get dinner then go to your room?
He went to check, your room was the exact same you left it.
Did…anyone see you come back? He questioned the members of the express. None have seen you.
Finally he grabbed his coat and cane and went to look for you. Went in the direction you went and searched. As he walked his foot stepped in something. Looking down confused, his eyes widened.
Golden Dust. Dust that he knew belonged to you. Dust that told him you were gone.
And he wasn’t able to tell you he was sorry.
Welt is silent as he walks back, he let the wind take your dust elsewhere. A place he hopes you’d be happy in.
He was quiet but able to tell the express what happened. Each of them holding a small funeral for you. They kept your room intact, filled with things you loved before locking it. That room will no longer be filled with warmth but will soon grow cold.
Welt drew a picture of you, keeping it safe with him. And despite how it may seem that eventually he was over your death. He could never be.
Not until he was able to apologise for the argument.
But that won’t happen anytime soon now will it?
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This was actually rlly fun to write!! Especially in well-being haha. This was meant to be posted yesterday but something came up so here it is now haha.
Might've missed some warnings, so as always. Please inform me if I did.
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killerpancakeburger · 5 months
Text
Outpace the dawn
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Gif by @silverformymonsters
Summary: BG3 Spawn ending Fix It fic! Because I refuse to let him deal with the sunlight alone.
Pairing: Astarion x Reader
Warnings/tags: SPOILERS obvsly, angst/comfort, non canon compliant.
Words count: 936 words.
A/N: It should be Gender Neutral, but if I fcked up since I tend to write from my pov, you can tell me and I'll correct it.
Yes the title is from that Hozier song. It got me thinking how Astarion would need to outpace the dawn from now on.
Astarion’s voice cut through the silence that followed your last battle, as your little group was gathering on a pontoon.
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“So, what’s next for us?”
You had been thinking about what was to come for a while, actually. Probably longer than any of your companions have. Some might argue that it wasn’t the time for that, that you should have been completely focused on defeating the Netherbrain. But you couldn’t help it; it was a matter of life and death - Astarion’s life and death. Or rather, undeath and death. Since you’ve known that the brain was within reach, it had become an omnipresent apprehension in your mind.
The slaughter of the brain sounded the death knell of the tadpoles, and their disappearance inevitably meant that Astarion’s resistance to the sun would vanish like it never existed. Like nature rightfully reasserting itself by getting rid of this aberration that had been a vampire walking in the sun in the first place. 
This knowledge has been haunting you for days and nights now. It was your first thought when you woke up and your last when you fell asleep. A knot of dread had settled inside your stomach, making it hard to fall asleep and to interact normally with the source of your worries. And right now, following Astarion’s question, the knot in your guts got even tighter, even more painful.
At any moment, any second from now on, your vampire lover would catch fire as surely as straw in the summer. 
It was fine. You planned. You prepared for this. You procured a large, thick, hooded coat that was guaranteed to block the sunrays. It was even imbued with magic that made it impossible to tear, pierce, or rip in any way. It hadn’t been easy to acquire, but Astarion didn’t need to know that. 
You were on the lookout for any sign of burning, wound as tightly as a spring while still trying to appear normal to the others.
“The world is our oyster, and she has many pearls we can choose from.” claimed Astarion, blissfully unaware of his fate.
He illustrated his remarks by spreading his arms far apart with vigor. The genuine excitement, the happiness in his voice almost made you sick to your stomach. Astarion’s displays of authentic joy were few and far in between, and this one would end as soon as it started. As fast as a vampire spawn left in the sun, as a pile of ashes on the ground.
You could barely bear to look at him. You didn’t have the heart to remind him of his imminent doom. He obviously had forgotten about it for the time being, and while the cruel reality was taking up almost all the space in your brain, like blaring alarms, you’d be damned if you took away from him his last, his only instants of light and warmth, of complete freedom, by reminding him. No Cazador, no tadpole, no mind control, no deadly sunlight, no slave and no master. Just an immense ocean of liberty, intoxicating, vertiginous.
“I honestly don’t mind what we do, once we get to- Ow!”
You instantly straightened up at the sound, like a wild animal who picked up the sound of an upcoming danger. For a terrible second, there was a twisted part of you who felt relieved. Finally, your gnawing, agonizing wait was coming to an end. Then, swiftly, the relief disappeared, flooded with your concern for Astarion. 
“What the- Oh no. Oh Gods.”
Already his hands were fuming, his beautiful pale face sprinkled with silververy cracks like delicate porcelain. He had always looked more like a piece of art than a living being after all. The frantic panic in his voice was like a punch to the chest. In all your battles and struggles together, you had never seen him so horrified. Even against Cazador. Even a True Vampire had to yield to the Sun.
He threw you a harrowing look, like he was bidding you goodbye before bolting. As if you were going to leave him to deal with this alone. Already you were rushing towards him, the life-saving coat in hands. You wrapped it around him as fast as your hands would allow, put the hood on, and gently grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him so his covered back would take the blunt of the light.
“There we go, you explained softly. This will block the sun.” 
“You’ve got this, and I’ve got you.” you added, mirroring his own words.
You were smiling sadly, trying to be supportive, to not add to his burden. The look in his eyes was hard to describe, an intense blend of heartbreak, vulnerability, and gratefulness. 
“Well… It was… it was nice while it lasted.” he managed to articulate, his voice breaking like he was about to cry. 
You could feel your heart break in response like an echo.
The magic sunproof coat was in no way a solution. Barely a bandage on a sinking ship. You had to get out of the sun, quickly.
“Come on, love. Let’s get you some shadow, uh?”
Your encouraging smile was as fragile as a spiderweb. You could feel it teetering on the edge of an abyss. 
Astarion simply nodded, like he didn’t trust his voice anymore. It was fine. He was already expressing so much through his gaze.
You put your hand on the small of his back, barely applying any pressure, threw a telling look over your shoulder at your other companions, and you both started your search for protective darkness between the walls of Baldur’s Gate.
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chuunai · 3 months
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Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool
Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this
Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3
✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu
who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?
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summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.
It’s a perfect night, really.
Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.
Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.
“You should sleep, [name].”
His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.
“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”
You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.
His little hellion.
Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.
Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.
“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”
He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.
Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.
“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”
Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.
“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”
Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.
“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”
Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.
Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.
You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.
So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.
Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”
Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.
“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”
From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.
He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.
After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.
It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.
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Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(
Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx
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