#ITS LIGHT HEARTED IN THE SENSE THAT THIS ALL DOESN'T MATTER AT THE END OF THE DAY AND I AM ENJOYING ALL THE STREAMS

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned pt. 4

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: After realizing you are his mate. Azriel races back downstairs to tell the rest of the Inner Circle. Spoiler alert- they already knew.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, a very small bit of violence. Let me know if theres anything I missed! a/n: This is unedited, so we aren't talking about it.

Ageless and MDNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Masterlist Requests are open!!

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As the door to your room closed, Azriel found himself frozen in place. His heart was still racing. He can feel his soul reaching out to yours, calling for you to return. The one thing that he always wanted, more than anything in the whole world, was just beyond that door. Someone to call his. Someone to be his. To be someone’s. To have a place to belong. But that door was still in the way. And he could tear it off the hinges for its audacity to stand between you and him. He could rip the door open, watching as you looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. Stammering as you'd try to hide the shock and ask him what's wrong. Only for him to cross the room. Pull you in and kiss you like his very life depended on it. As if you were air, and he was gasping for it. Your love was the tide that pulled him under, all-consuming. But he didn't feel like he was drowning, no. Never. You were his light, his dark, his everything. His salvation. You were perfect. He felt the bond and knew there was someone at the other end of it. Someone who would feel it with time.

And that thought seemed to pull Azriel out of his less-than-sober state. Whatever the mating bond had done to his head had consumed him. Made him unable to think straight, unable to use any common sense- or any sense at all. He needed to step away, needed to stop smelling your scent. His shadows pull him back, gently urging him to give you space. Part of it makes him smile, that they were so eager to protect you. Part of him looks at the shadows and glares. "Traitors." He mumbles, before going down the stairs. His heart heavy as he takes every step. You were so unaware of his feelings. You always had been, you pushed away any feelings for him in favor of Elain. He watched you do it, heard you talking in hushed whispers to Feyre and Nesta about her wellbeing. You used to join them, but then you just…stopped. That's when Elain started flirting more. It broke his heart to see you back down so easily. Azriel knew you didn’t have any friends outside the Inner Circle…and he felt you watch from the windows. How he wanted to reach his hand out to you, share his time with you the way you shared it with your sister…

His footsteps for once are not muffled, nor does he want them to be. It didn't matter who saw him now, he'd let them know he was there to protect you. So, he allows himself to walk naturally, feeling the weight of everything finally. His footsteps heavier with each step. As Azriel enters the room he notices how the party has slowly stopped talking as he enters. His brothers looked the most concerned, slowly they both stood. Az notes the way their gaze moves about his body, checking for injury. Their shoulders are tense as well as if they’re on edge about something. What he didn’t know, so he raises an eyebrow at them. "Azriel?" Rhys's voice is soft, and gentle, as if he is trying to tame a beast.

"Is everything okay?" Cassian asks next. His voice doesn't share the same gentleness that Rhys's did. But for Cassian, that was gentle. Azriel looks at him, Cassian's hazel eyes shining with concern as he steps forward with Rhys.

Azriel doesn't know where the sudden concern is coming from. He tries his hardest to will his face into one of neutrality. "Yes? Everything is fine." He assures them before trying to sidestep them. Rhys and Cassian grab onto his arms to hold him in place. Azriel is just confused. He looks back at Rhys and Cassian. "What?" His voice laced with that very confusion.

"You’re shaking," Rhys answers. "Your hands are clenched. You look ready to snap." He steps back, Cassian doing the same. Azriel looks down, slowly unclenching his hands, realizing that his siphons are swirling with power as well. Looking back up the stairs to see his shadows swirling outside your door, keeping watch for him to ensure your safety. He looks back to Rhys blinking and suddenly- he gets it. He gets why Rhys fell into Mor's arms screaming and crying that Feyre was his mate—understanding all the decisions Rhys made just to ensure her safety. Seeing why Rhys believed in her under that mountain. Understanding why Cassian fought so hard to try and save Nesta from the Cauldron. He understood how the view of the world changed in just a matter of seconds, and…how it felt knowing that they both figured it out before their mates did. How did they do it? How did they deal with the crippling fear that they might reject them? How did keep smiling? How did they keep it from consuming him? Rhys looks back at Cassian, both of them taking another tentative step toward their brother.

"Az?" Cassian's smooth voice, calming voice- he talked to hurt soldiers like that. Azriel knew that voice. Was that what he was now? A soldier on the battlefield again? Did they see him as the scrawny little kid that showed up at camp? At that thought suddenly he broke.

The tears fall quickly, and blindly Azriel reaches out to grab Rhys's shoulder. He hadn't realized the pain he'd been keeping in his heart. He claws at his shirt; wishing that he didn't have one, to begin with. Rhys pulls him in, holding him tightly. “Woah…” Rhys whispers squeezing him tighter. “Woah, we’ve got you Az. You’re okay. We’ve got you…” Cassian rubs his back- and Azriel knows that they're exchanging glances behind his back. But he doesn't care. But what he doesn't expect to hear is Mor.

"Azriel?" Her voice is soft, full of concern. And he looks up from Rhys's shoulder. Looking at Mor with a tear-stained face, his eyes growing puffier by the second as more tears rolled down. She held her arms up for him. Azriel pushed Rhys away, all but running into Mor. Falling into her arms as he cries harder. Mor's embrace is warm, her skin is soft. She was always so warm, like a sunny spring day. She smelt like vanilla and whiskey. Threading her fingers through his hair, brushing out the curls gently as she started to rock him. "Shh, shh, we’ve got you. What happened? Can you tell us what's wrong?" Her voice is so gentle, soft, and caring in a way that only Mor could manage for him. Azriel realized she was being motherly. He reached for a comfort he'd barely known. A mother's embrace, or in Mor's case; a sister's embrace. Pulling away, Mor wipes his eyes. Nodding she looked up at him with her warm, chocolatey eyes.

"She's my mate." He croaks. It felt so good to get out. It felt good to tell someone, pride surging through him. To declare that you were his. He was yours. You were one. Mor's eyes widened, looking back at Amren, Feyre, and Nesta. "She's my mate, Mor. An-and she didn't feel it, now suddenly I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I'm drowning. I keep reaching for her but she’s not there. I-I’m panicking about her even though I knew she was right upstairs. Everything is racing. I'm in a free fall, my wings won't open and the ground is getting closer. Everything feels so-"

Nesta grabs Azriel's chin. Tilting his head up to look at her, and he expected to see an icy glare. Instead, he's met with an intense understanding. "You are not dying. You are okay. And you need to take a deep breath." She illustrates what she wants him to do by taking a deep breath herself. Azriel finds himself mimicking her actions, suddenly realizing what he had done. He wasn’t supposed to be weak. His tears were pointless, his pain didn’t matter. He stands straighter, clearing his throat. Looking down at the ground to avoid everyone else's gazes. Nesta continues, "You fucking Illyrian's love too hard." She scoffs, her tone laced with a playful amusement. Though there's also so much truth behind it. "Y/n will accept you as her mate soon enough. But you have to give her the space and opportunity to do so. But, for the record. I am very happy that she is your mate. And you better be good to her or I’ll make you suffer.”

“Nesta!” Feyre hisses, elbowing her sister as she scowls at her. But Azriel laughs, it’s short and quiet but it’s a genuine laugh. Everyone looks at him before he pulls both of them into hugs. Feyre squeaks, but holds onto him. Nesta stiffens but pats his back.

“Thank you…” He whispers, pulling away. Azriel shakes his head and sits on the armchair with a sigh. “I…don’t know what came over me.”

Rhys sits on one of the arms, clapping his brother in the back. “Love does strange things to people.”

“Especially in this family.” Amren rolls her eyes as she scans Azriel for any more signs of an emotional outburst. “But, I also know you haven’t cried in a long, long, time Azriel.” She gives the shadowsinger a pointed look.

Cassian sighs and plops next to Azriel’s other side. Ruffling his hair. “You had us worried there for a second. I thought she insulted you or something.” Cassian laughs, Azriel can’t help but smile.

“No…nothing like that.” He whispers.

Nesta goes to Cassian’s side. Immediately sliding under his arm and putting a hand on his chest as she leans into her mate's warmth. “How did it happen?” Nesta asks, her voice full of curiosity. Remembering her love of romance novels- it didn’t shock Azriel that she wanted to hear the details.

Feyre also made her way closer, sitting on the couch closer to Rhys. Tucking her legs under her as she nods excitedly. “Yes! Tell us all the details, it was my personal favorite, hearing Rhys confess.” She looks over at him and winks.

Azriel chuckles and shakes his head. “She seemed…sad.” He starts slowly, closing his eyes to recount. Picturing the way your eyes slowly faded into a blank stare. “So after she announced she was going to bed. I followed her, but I thought she knew. I ended up scaring her, and I felt this…this nagging part of my brain light up. Telling me to apologize over and over again. As if it didn’t like making that look appear on her face. So, I apologized. But, then she just started…laughing. It felt…different than all the other times. I saw this golden glow around her as if the sun had decided to come back up and only shine on her. And she put her hand on my arm-“ He smiles faintly as his fingers gently trace over the spot yours had been. “It felt…like I was seeing the sun for the first time.” His voice is softer than ever. “And she joked about her intentions with me and her laugh. It was…it was like I couldn’t breathe. She leaned into me, laughing so hard she was snorting, touching me and- and just being…happy. Being her. That was the moment. Looking down at her I knew. I wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of my days. I wanted to be the reason for that laugh. I wanted to pick her up, spin her around, and kiss her like a fish needs water…” He smiles to himself as he pictures you again.

“I’ve loved her for so long. But, but that was the moment I knew. I was going to be there for her no matter what. Her laugh is something I’d fight wars over.”

Nesta is grinning, tears brimming her eyes. “I haven’t heard her laugh like that since she met you.” And Azriel’s heart swells with pride again.

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The next morning as you enter for breakfast everyone’s eyes fall onto you. Blinking at them all you raise your hand to give a shy little wave. “Uh, good morning?”

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Feyre smiles, Nyx perched on her lap as she offers him a slice of banana. You simply nod at her as you go to take your seat.

Nyx pushes away Feyre’s hand and exclaims, “Titi! Titi!” His little warms going upwards as he bounces in his mother’s lap. You, Nesta, and Elain all exchange glances. Looking at each other in a standoff of who can get to Nyx first. You move first, quickly running around the side of the table that Nesta wasn’t on. But Nesta, the Valkyrie, is quicker. Vaulting over the table- much to Rhys’s chagrin.

“Nesta!” He huffs looking at his plate of food with her handprint in it. Elain sprints around the other side, holding her arms out.

In a split second, darkness enveloped the room. Once it dissipates Azriel stands in the corner holding Nyx up. High above his head as the toddler giggles with glee.“Hello Nyx.” He grins with a triumphant smile. Your legs suddenly feel weak as you look at him. Only Nyx got him to smile like that. You look over at your sisters who are all as gobsmacked as you.

Nesta moves in first, on a mission to get her nephew. “You are not a Titi. So I will take him, please.” She gives an overly sweet smile as she holds her arms out.

Azriel considers for a second, but Nyx is happily playing with one of his siphons on his shoulders. Gently tapping it and watching the magic flow through it. “No, I think he’s content.”

Nesta goes to argue, but Elain steps forward. “Azriel…” She bats her pretty long lashes up at him. “Can I please see him?” She also holds out her hands as she smiles at her nephew.

Nyx again doesn’t respond to her voice. Now trying to munch on the Siphon. “It seems he’s still content.” Azriel shrugs, taking a slice of banana off of Feyre’s plate to give him instead.

It was your turn now and you were determined to win. “Azzy…” Your voice makes him pause. Good, you think. You hold out your arms and bat your eyes at him too. Trying to be as pretty as Elain was. “Let me see my favorite nephew?”

Nesta scoffs, “He’s your only nephew.” You shoot her a glare and look back up at the spymaster.

“Pretty please Az?” You pout, using the little sister privilege you honed. An impenetrable puppy dog face. And much to your delight- and your sister’s annoyance- Azriel crumbles. Earning snickers from around the table, all of which he glares at. Delicately handing Nyx to you and quickly moving as far- far away from you as he can.

Nyx looks up at you and grins. “Titi!” Your eyes shine with brightness and you giggle as you kiss his cheek.

"That's right, Nyx. Titi, the best Titi of all time." You coo, wrinkling your nose at Nesta and Elain. Nesta flips you off as she sits next to Cassian with a huff. And you chuckle as he wraps a wing around her, petting her hair as he offers her a bite of toast. Which she grumpily takes. You smile and sit with Nyx, settling him on your lap as Feyre passes you his plate.

Polite, and not-so-polite conversation takes place. Laughter fills the room and you for once, feel peaceful. Looking around this room filled with so much love. It was- almost too much to bear. But it all comes crashing down as Rhys gets handed a golden envelope. Golden waves were etched into it, along with golden flowers. It caused the conversations to die down as Rhys opened it. You follow his eyes, scanning the page. Watching his eyebrow raise in amusement as he passes the paper to Feyre. "What is it?" Mor asks looking or trying to look over Rhys's shoulder. Cassian stretches as well to try and see what is going on. Feyre holds it closer to her chest as she glares lightly at him. You hold back a snicker as Azriel's shadows loom behind Feyre- also trying to peak.

"It's an invitation," Feyre says simply, nodding as she looks it over again. Suddenly you watch Azriel stiffen.

"From. Who?" He grits out. Your eyebrows knit together in concern. But he doesn't look at you, his golden gaze still focused on Feyre. You could swear that from across the room you saw his eyes get greener. Feyre looks over at him and sighs heavily.

"Tarquin and Tamlin. They're hosting a ball to try and find a wife- or their mate." Feyre explains handing the letter over to Cassian. He greedily takes it, and Nesta pulls it down so she can read it too. Their eyes widened.

"It says they're requesting all unmated females." Cassian looks up at Azriel- almost like they were having a secret conversation. You snatch the letter from Nesta so you can scan it over.

Gasping and biting your lip, you look over at Rhys and Feyre. "Does that mean I can go?" You ask giddily, barely able to keep your excitement in.

Rhys spares a glance at Azriel and then looks back at you. "Would you want too?" His voice is tight. The room falls silent as it waits for your response. But you nod quickly.

"Yes!" You nod quickly, "It's like the fairytales we've read!" She looks over at Azriel, who refuses to look at you. His plate is the only thing that has his interest. But his indifference doesn't sway you. Letting your attention turn back to Rhys and Feyre, "It would be good! Like a show of good faith to send a member of the Night Court! Besides that, I wouldn't go for Tamlin. Not after what he did to you-" You look at Feyre with a gentle smile. Rhys takes hold of her hand, his thumb gently running over her knuckles. "But, I could find my mate there! Or hell I'd even settle for a boyfriend." You try to joke to clear the awkward tension. But all it did was cause Azriel to stand abruptly and walk out. Standing back up you go to follow him, but Nesta takes your hand, shaking her head. Sitting back down as you look at the letter.

"…It would be fun," Feyre says quietly. "We could bring the whole Inner Circle. It gives Amren a reason to see Varian. And we can show Nyx to everyone. You have the shields Hellion taught you, so you can protect us. It would be fun, we should go." She nods determinedly as she looks at her husband. Their eyes glaze over as they speak to one another but you look back at the door Azriel just walked out of. His shadows lingered around as if reporting what Rhys said. He sighed heavily.

"I'll respond with all that are attending." You squeal and rush over to hug him, kissing his cheek.

"You're the best Rhys! Thank you!" And warmth comes back to the room as your sisters smile at you. Immediately bringing up how they plan to doll you up.

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Rhys's study door swings open as Azriel storms in. His siphons churning with power and the only thing that gives him pause is Feyre sitting on the desk in front of a chair. Rhys flanked her left, Cassian on her right. Amren and Mor are on Rhys's side. Nesta on Cassian's. Azriel glares at Rhys, "What is this."

Feyre points to the chair. "Sit." Azriel crosses his arms in a silent refusal. Feyre raises an eyebrow.

"Azriel we are not your enemy right now." She says gingerly. Trying a gentler approach, as if he would start crying again. His fists clench as he grinds his teeth.

"You are." He says simply. "You're letting her go."

"Azriel you know damn well that we give choices in this court." Rhys snaps, Feyre putting a hand on his chest. "I don't know why you suddenly think you can control her-"

"I know I can't control her." Azriel snaps at Rhysand. Their eyes meet and Azriel grits out, "But she is a mated female. And it is a slap in my face that you consider my mating bond so unimportant that what? Get another fucking Alliance? Like how you were gonna marry Nesta off to Eris."

"Azriel." Cassian snaps, standing to his full height. "You don't get to bring up my mate just because you're pissy." Nesta pulls him back. Her blue/grey eyes meet his as she steps forward. Cassian watched her like a hawk. But Nesta didn't balk.

"I was going to marry Eris because I didn't feel worthy of the love that Cassian was giving me. And the reason Rhysand wants us to go is so that y/n can be happy. Isn't that something you want for her Azriel? You know how we grew up, but did you know that y/n used to lay in our bed and ask me to tell her stories? She'd ask me about balls, what princes were like. She's dreamed of this. Finding her true love over there. So-" Nesta jabs Azriel's chest. "Suck it up."

Azriel's jaw tightened. And then, Rhysand spoke. "You won't be going." The room fell silent.

"What."

"Lucien got the same letter, he's requested that we not bring Elain. Elain is okay with that, they want to take this as an opportunity to get to know each other. You will be here to keep them safe and chaperone for Elain's comfort. You are silent, you are friends with Elain and it will give you time to sort out whatever is going on with your attitude." Rhysand tries to keep his voice even, and clear, end all be all. Azriel waited for the hypocrisy of the moment to hit him, but when it didn't.

"No," Azriel says simply. "No make someone else do it. I am not going to sit here while you cart her around. Pick someone else."

"That's not happening. She hasn't felt the bond yet Azriel. And trust me, I know how hard it is. But I let Feyre go-"

"She's not Feyre. She can't fight. She isn't your mate, she's mine and I have her best interest-"

"You have a possessive interest." Rhys snaps. "She is allowed to make choices."

Azriel looks at Rhysand with disdain. His nose wrinkles in anger and his shadows swirl around him. Siphons flicker as his temper grows. "I didn't say she wasn't." He tries to speak calmly. He was better than this. Azriel didn't need to lose his temper, he didn't even know where this was coming from. No doubt the mating bond, everything involving you made every inch of his skin feel too tight. Like he needed your touch to cool the boiling beneath it. He had normally kept his cool in the face of adversity, he didn't question Rhysand. But when you were in the fold? He couldn't stop it. The images of you coming home with your arms linked with Tarquin or- oh god- Tamlin? The images of how thin Feyre had been when she first arrived flashed in his mind. And then- you. You being that thin, in a gaudy and ugly wedding dress. Big, puffy sleeves and begging him down the bond to save you. "But I want to go with her."

Rhys looks at everyone and sighs. "Azriel. We all decided-"

"You decided? Decided that I wasn't allowed near her?" He growls.

"You all decided what to do with me." Nesta chimes in. Azriel turns to her with a fire in his eyes.

"We decided that because we didn't want to watch you drink yourself into your immortal grave. We wanted you to heal and the only way to get you to do anything, Nesta Archeron, is through spite. Telling you that you have to do something or you must. But even still we didn't separate you from Cassian." Azriel fumed. He had never been like this with anyone. So raw, so angry. Showing his baseline of emotions. He couldn't stop it, everything felt like it was about to boil over. So he looks back to Feyre. "Please. I am begging you, to let me go."

Feyre looks over at Rhys. Rhysand shakes his head. "No. Azriel it will look bad for you to claim her-"

It was a blur. Everything happened so fast. Azriel moved before he knew what he was doing. Everything in him screamed out, at the people whom he called family locking him away once again from something he wanted so badly. And he saw his Father and stepmother. Overseeing his visits with his Mother. Not letting him stay with her no matter how hard he begged. Keeping his wings bound to his back despite the need to fly. All he felt was that red-hot anger. His blood felt like it was scalding under the surface. His skin was simmering and he wasn't sure if he was actually smoking or if it was his shadows that curled around his forearms. His voice felt like there was a vice grip around it. Why?! Why was no one listening to him! Why didn't they understand? He didn't want to control you or tell you that you couldn't do something. He just wanted to be there. All he wanted to do was make sure that you were happy. He didn't want to play babysitter again to another set of mates. He just wanted to watch you shine.

He comes back into his own body to realize that he'd punched Rhysand. His black eye starting to form. Two strong hands were on his elbows as he was forced to sit. Cassian. They were Cassian's hands. Azriel calmed and eased into the chair. Rhys puts a hand to face blinking in shock. Looking at Azriel with one good eye. The room was silent. They could have heard a pin drop miles away. Azriel tried to open his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He hangs his head in shame, waiting for Rhysand to tell him to leave.

"Cauldron boil me." Rhysand laughs and kneels in front of Azriel. "You really think that?" He whispers looking at his brother with sincerity. "That all you are is a babysitter?" Azriel blinks and looks at him with wide eyes. "You said it all. Screamed it right into my head. Made me feel it." He gives him a gentle smile. "Az, that's not what I was trying to say." Rhys sighs heavily and shakes his head. "I didn't think you could handle it. That rage? I understand it. I felt it every day Under the Mountain, and every day when Feyre was with Tamlin. I don't want you to think I don't trust you. But I know it's hard to contain. Case in point-" He points to the black eye.

Azriel swallows thickly, still unable to voice his apology. ' I'm sorry Rhysand. I understand. I don't like it, feeling so angry. The bond just- amplified all of my emotions.' Rhys nods along to what Azriel speaks into his mind.

"It gets easier. For now," He sighs and shakes his head. "It might just be the better idea to bring you along. Being near her should help."

Azriel nods. Still looking down at the ground, and then he feels gentle arms wind around him. Nesta. "Thank you for being my friend." She whispers. Another set of arms wind around him. Feyre.

"Thank you for being our eyes and ears."

Another set of arms. Mor. "Thank you for always protecting me."

More arms. Cassian. "We are your family. And we never want you to feel like you don't matter."

Two more. Rhys. "I am the biggest hypocrite."

"Really." Amren's voice cuts through. But then there is a little scuffle as someone, most likely Mor, pulls Amren into the group hug. He hears her sigh. "…Thank you for punching Rhysand." The group laughs warmly. Maybe everything was going to be alright.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your arms squeeze Elain tightly. "I'm very excited for you!" You say warmly. "I think you'll be a happier woman when we come back." You wink at her. Elain scuffs and rolls her eyes, but her cheeks redden at the idea.

"Well, I hope you come back with so many stories that I would be jealous." She teases you as she pulls you back and makes you sit on a pink stool. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, she brushes your hair out and helps you put it half up, half down. Something pretty and yet elegant. Finishing she looks at you in the mirror. "You look beautiful."

You grin, shrugging. "Thanks, Elain." Not knowing how to respond. "Let us know how it's going?" You hold up a pinky to her, Elain rolls her eyes and links your pinkies.

"I will write the most boring and mundane letters just to shock you with the truth when you get back." She teases. You feigned hurt before you heard Rhysand call for you. You and your sister share a giddy smile and you rush down the stairs.

The whole Inner Circle stands there with various bags, the 'ball' would be taking place over a week. With dances each night, not all of which were deemed mandatory- only the first and last night were. But you were going to be staying in a newly rebuilt Spring Court. Feyre had been nervous at first, but Lucien helped ease her nerves. Assuring her that they wouldn't be near the Manor and that Tamlin had completely rebuilt. It was almost unrecognizable. But none of that mattered, you were going to be going to every ball you could, dancing the nights away, sleeping in, wearing all the beautiful dresses you could. You were ready to take this ball by storm.

Lucien looked up at Elain, bowing his head. Your sister halted, and you gave her a subtle push toward him. "You look well," Elain whispers.

"As do you." He smiles.

Leaving the two to talk. You look over at Azriel, you haven't talked to Azriel since that morning. And he wasn't at breakfast the next day. So you took this opportunity to cross the room to his side. He looks down at you, giving a small smile in greeting. You smile back, "Azriel." You speak softly, suddenly feeling bashful. You hadn't known why he suddenly stopped coming around you, but you knew that you wanted to remedy it. You wanted him closer to you, you wanted your friend back. "Are you excited?"

Azriel looks at you with a raised eyebrow, his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. "You do realize that you're asking the biggest introvert here if he's excited to go to a ball."

You pout, glaring at him. "…you can lie to me."

That gets a chuckle out of Azriel as he extends a hand to you. "Then I am thrilled to go spend this week somewhere I'm not comfortable." You elbow him as you take his hand.

"Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you step outside. Azriel lets his wings expand, quickly scooping you up into his arms. The others would Winnow to the house, but Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel wanted to fly. And so, Amren uncomfortably held Nyx. The toddler playing with her necklace as Mor got ready to Winnow. Rhysand scooped up Feyre, Cassian held Nesta, and… Azriel held you. Quickly shooting up into the air, a sound between a gasp and a squeal sounded from you. Holding onto Azriel tighter, you feel him hold you tighter before he leans into your ears.

"Just stay close by in case I need you." He answers. You blink up at him before smiling and nodding.

"I'll be right by your side." You promise. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: I personally hc that the mating bond can be really intense and amplify every emotion- even if it has nothing to do with your mate. So Azriel being so on edge, is just because that man needs a fucking hug. Anyways!! I hope y'all enjoyed!!

tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal l @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @bunnyred-blog1 @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #pro nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #elain x lucien

[ox1-lovesick]

✶ ─── TOMORROW X TOGETHER AND WHEN YOU LOOK MOST BEAUTIFUL TO THEM

pairing(s). txt x gn reader genre fluff warnings. none(?) wc. 100-200 each

type. headcannon , reaction

a/n. guess who wrote something *everyone applaud* please enjoy this I forced myself to write it because I haven't posted anything since queen elizabeth graduated high school 🥰

★ YEONJUN could already stare at you for hours on end — you always looked so effortlessly beautiful in his eyes, they can't help but wander back to take you in every now and then. You're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but there's something different about you right now. About your furrowed eyebrows and small pout, about your fleeting gaze, stuck between your laptop screen and notebook as you read over the problem for the nth time hoping it will all magically make sense soon. You look outrageously adorable to him right now, laser focused on solving this equation of letters and numbers so you can move onto your next set of notes. He'd pull out a chair and sit next to you every time, resting his head against the palm of his hand as he watched while you busied yourself with whatever you needed to get done. Sometimes he'd sit and stare in silence, others he'd fondly brush the stray strands of hair away from your eyes so you don't have to, but every time without fail, his eyes would be trained on nothing but you.

★ SOOBIN loved taking care of his skin. It felt like a checkmark in his day, the last task at hand before he could melt into his bed and forget his worries until morning. He instantly felt lighter after taking all his make-up off and gently applying his moisturiser, but doing it with his favourite person makes just that much better. He especially loves when he doesn't have the energy to do it himself, leaving you to do it for him. Fingers gently tapping the products into skin with care, with the occasional kiss on his nose, but what he loves most of all is the sight of you, bare faced and sleepy. Some days he'd feign exhaustion just to stare into your eyes and hold your waist while you massage serum into his skin. He loves you no matter how you look of course, you're always beautiful to him. But being barefaced with each other is intimate, especially when he has to look his best everyday

★ BEOMGYU was never fearful about the sun exploding in 70 something million years, why would he be when he had the replacement right in his arms. Your smile was more than enough to sustain life and light up the solar system. His theory may not be scientifically correct, but in his eyes, it was simply the truth. What a heinous crime it is that you don't own multiple peace prizes for this sight alone—it never failed to make his heart beat out of his chest every time you graced him with its presence. He gets teased to no end by the guys for being horrendously down bad and staring at you with 'goo goo' eyes whenever your lips curl upwards, but how could he help himself? He's sick in the head, mind stuffed full of you and that pretty smile. It's his kryptonite, his one and only weakness, and no one knew it better than you after walking home hand in hand with your brand new jigglypuff plushie and -62837 won in Beomgyu's wallet.

★ TAEHYUN was so weak for things like this. Even under all those muscles he spends hours perfecting at the gym, he's rendered completely and utterly powerless. Weak for holding you closer, weak for pressing a kiss to your forehead, weak for you nuzzling your head further into his chest, weak for falling asleep with the person he adores more than anything next to him, safe and sound in his arms. He always fell asleep much later than you, because he has no self control and can't help but stare. Ever since he'd met you, he's become a morning person. Not because he enjoys starting his day early to be more productive (or to spend another 86 years in the gym) but because he gets to wake up like this. Your limbs tangled in each other, soft breaths against his neck, covered in the warmth of his duvet and comfort of each other. And if you'd allow him to, he'd spend every morning like this for the rest of his life, and die a happy man.

★ HUENINGKAI is a fan-favourite. And while his band mates make it well known who their favourite maknae is, for the sake of their feelings he tells them he loves them all equally, and keeps his favourite a secret. A secret from everyone but you, who just so happens to be said favourite. And his favourite sight on his favourite person? The face you made when he revealed his secret to you. The way your eyes widened, the knowing smile that crept its way onto your face, your nose scrunching in delight, if he could have that moment tattooed on the inside of his eyelids, he'd probably forget what the world looks like from having his eyes closed all the time. He loves this look on you, how excited you get when talking about the drama going on with your classmates or your masterplan to take over the world. Your eyes twinkling and hands flying all over the show because your emotions are just too strong to keep them confined. It might just be his favourite sight of all time, and while he's itching to screech about how adorable you are, he'll keep it his little secret for now

★ OX1-LOVESICK all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, translate, alter or repost my work without my explicit permission.

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt reactions #txt headcanons #txt angst #txt yeonjun #txt soobin #txt beomgyu #txt taehyun #txt hueningkai #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun angst #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fluff #choi yeonjun #soobin scenarios #soobin fluff #soobin angst #soobin imagines #choi soobin #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu #taehyun fluff #taehyun imagines #kang taehyun #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai imagines

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

A NOOSE TO HANG ONTO (III)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER IV

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 7.3k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking & stalking behavior, talks of death, weapons, violence, suggestive thoughts/comments, toxic modeling standards, food issues, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Sometimes you wonder if meeting your soulmate would even matter—it would never fix the void in your heart, you know. It would be foolish to think that it would. 

But there is such a drug attached to being loved as you are, despite your flaws and failings, destined to be tied in a game of commitment. Yet the simple fact showed that, while soulmates were able to bring you color, that didn’t change people's nature. 

Even among those tied pairs, divorce was rampant; assaults, and murders as well. 

Soulmate Psychosis, it was called. When your mind broke from having it all figured out, or even when you knew it was falling apart. 

It happened to your father and it happened to millions of other spouses too. When your entire life is already decided when you look at someone, it can be…a lot. 

So, part of you was happy that you’d never know who yours was unless they told you themselves—you can hope and pray that they stay their tongue and give you a chance to fall for them naturally. Because it scared you, truly, becoming like all of the rest. A statistic. 

Lord, don’t let yourself become a statistic.

Nikto silently walks at your heels as you push through the front doors of your penthouse, taking off your ball cap and stuffing it into your jacket pocket.

The man at the front desk calls to you, and you raise a hand in greeting, sliding a soft smile his way. 

“Seraph!” Isaak has been working at this building for as long as you can remember—the man with grayish hair and dark eyes. A face that was sharp and a nose crooked; like a chocolate-chip cookie, dark splotches along his face led to the impression of freckles. 

The man was slightly older than you, lanky, and always dressed luxuriously.

“Having a good day, Isaak? Has that girl come back and given you her number yet?” You slow your pace to the elevator, digging into your pocket and peeling out one of the keys from your lanyard for your floor. You nearly drop the thing before you snap and catch onto the metal quickly. Nikto lets off something like an annoyed growl behind you at the interruption from the man across the room. 

He’s impatient, you hum and send him a little glance over your shoulder. Light eyes dig with a warning. You only chuckle and shake your head calmly. One would think that for a PMC he would have all the patience in the world. 

“You know I keep trying to get her to go away,” Isaak smiles at you. “The only woman I’d accept a number from is you, my Little Angel.”

Where the flirtatious comments had gotten you into bed with the man before, now they just didn’t strike you as they had before. Not…anymore. 

You clear your throat and blink away for a moment before you school your expression back to an easy malleability. 

“Good try.” Your focus goes back to the keys, fingers jerkily sifting through them.

Isaak’s brows furrow at your form, perhaps a bit of offense making his face twist—dark eyes slip down your body; pupils dilating. 

A black form steps slightly forward, a large shoulder blocking you from view in one firm movement. Like some wolf with its neck fur standing on end, Nikto’s head is lightly bent down; eyes so intense that they render Isaak frozen in a sense of internal instincts warring with one another.

Nikto doesn’t speak, doesn’t make a sound—only stares and doesn't blink, immobile as a stone.

The soft music of the lobby blurs to the sound of a heart pounding.

You don’t even notice, humming when you find the correctly marked key from its slate mass and moving forward to press the illuminated button of the elevator. 

“Oh!” Your mind pulls itself back to the present and away from letters and fire. “Isaak, this is Nikto—he’ll be…” A pause, eyes narrowed in confusion. “Are you okay?”

The man looks like he’s about to piss himself. 

Without another word, Isaak scurries into the backroom, the door hitting so hard closed behind him that you flinch slightly and blink in shock. Standing for a moment, you tilt your head slowly right before the elevator dings, signaling you can enter. 

Nikto suddenly grabs the meat of your arm and moves you inside.

“Woah!” You call, huffing. “Careful!” 

“Inside,” the PMC grumbles, eyes tight and beady. 

Your feet stumble when he lets you go, having to steady yourself on the back railing so you don’t fall over and hit your face on the floor. A sharp look is leveled at Nikto as he drops his duffel bag to the ground and hooks his arms at the collar of his rig, grunting and shifting his legs to set himself. 

Blinking rapidly, you sigh out a fast breath.

“You know,” you begin, slotting your key into the plaque that says your floor number, twisting, and then taking a step back. Eyes darting to your side, you ease out slyly. “I’m sure people would like you more if you had the ability to articulate what you’re feeling. I’m getting the sense that you carry your emotions around like you’re trying to choke someone out.”

Nikto glares ahead, a brick wall of nothing but a harsh breath. 

You smile softly and chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll get you into shape in no time.” Pale eyes slowly slide to your face and Nikto’s dead gaze stays there—brows in such a straight line it’s like looking at a statue. “I always do.”

While being around your mom led you to a subdued state, you had no trouble easing back into your usual route of subtle flirting; it was natural to you, even after traumatic events. A cushion, if you will. It felt good to still be able to regulate yourself and have some level of control over your life. 

The three bodies and the Stalker, that senseless shadow, still haunt the back of your eyelids but having a distraction in the light was helping. Something new to focus on. 

“We need copy,” Nikto glares at you, ignoring your soft tone.

As the elevator rises incredibly high, you hum in question, smile flicking to a confused frown. He grits his teeth under his mask.

“The key, Whelp, да?” Your eyes spark.

“Oh, sure,” you shrug. “I don’t have one.” 

Nikto’s shoulders move back, blinking at you quickly. “You…” he trails off into a snarl of Russian. A hand comes up from his side to harshly dig into the bridge of his hidden nose.

You have to restrain a wide smile, the muscles in your face twitching. 

When the doors open, you’re led into the sight of your safe place—an entire world away from the one outside the half-closed blinds of an opposite wall of all windows.

“I’ll order you one,” you try to reassure Nikto, sending him a side glance as you let all of the tension leak out of you as you step inside. “No worries.”

The man follows, jaw tense, as he stoops down and swipes up his bag. 

“How is it that you do not have a second key?” Nikto’s eyes dart around the living room, not showing the slight way he’s taken aback by the size of everything and the design choice. 

It was certainly…unique. 

High mass, there were knickknacks on nearly every surface—a far-off ceiling due to the open second level where the rooms must be. There were hanging beads from the stairs, and plants that grew large and verdant; Nitko blinked at paintings on nearly every surface of the visible wall. A hanging chandelier that emits light over the antique-looking furniture of wood and velvet. 

Even a taxidermy deer head, with its antlers holding jewelry that glints rich and luxurious. Books and painted bits of the walls that were near sheer fabric draped as an accessory from the top of bookshelves. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you utter, sincerely, “if I’d been told that you were going to be staying here, I would have gotten the spare room ready.”

The kitchen is simple and mixed in with the living room in the form of a large island piled with magazines and notebooks. 

You sigh and look around, wrapping your arms around your waist as you glance around the space. Not a stranger to the confused looks you’d get from your style.

Aly described it as a fairy tale. A hut in the woods holding secrets and magic. So different than what AMA had you displayed as—a cold angel of white and sharp feathers.

A product of some great lust machine.

“Just wait until he sees the loft,” you murmur, thinking about all of the various fabrics and tailored clothes you’d had in the open space directly when you walk up the stairs. The Dress Form torso mannequins wearing dresses you’d made with pricked fingers and shaky nerves. 

You hoped he hadn’t met his Soulmate, because you’re sure it’s a hideous mess of colors up there. The thought makes you pause, and you realize you haven’t asked that question to yourself yet. 

Did Nikto see color? 

“No need,” Nikto immediately returns to his stoic monotone at your concern over the state of things. “I make do. Step aside.” 

Slipping off your shoes, you place them in the old claw foot parlor table you’d made into your entryway storage, glancing at the void as he walks around your creaky wooden floors with his heavy boots. 

“Shoes,” you remind, voice light. 

The beast halts, his back to you halfway onto your handmade Persian rugs. You watch his fingers twitch around his duffel bag straps, as you go to close your secondary door; hiding the gaping wound in the building as the elevator leaves. A soft click emanates just as the man grunts lowly and lets his bag slam to the floor. 

In one movement, the Russian bends down and unlaces his boots in firm and quick motions, grabbing them and turning like a puppet on a string. He plants them next to yours on the parlor table and sends you a tight look with hard eyes.

Nikto’s accent flares in his quick comment. “You are strange, Girl.”

You hum and shift out of your jacket, folding it and placing it atop the shoes. 

“Oh, so I’m strange because I don’t want you tracking dirt on my clean rugs? The people you live around must be slobs.”

“We do not live around others.” 

You blink, staring into his eyes as your skin pulls lightly. “Then I’m sorry. That must be very lonely.” 

Nikto’s muscles tense under his gear, great thighs hardening. He growls low after a moment of stiffly watching you. “I do not need pity, certainly not from you,” and then stalks off, leaving his bag in the foyer. 

Lips slightly parted, you let him walk away and snoop, taking account of the rooms and the layout for his own needs. Sighing, you rub at the back of your head before letting your hand drop back down, pulling at the fabric of your turtle neck. 

You couldn’t deny that you found Nikto physically attractive—the large stature and built frame made your neurons fire, how he loped along with his bulky gear. Sure, that was natural, and despite the attitude, you did feel secure around him. He had an extensive record for a reason, and your mother would only include the best in her decisions. 

It also attested to the fact that you didn’t find his aggression at all fear-inducing if that made any sense at all. To everyone else, he would be the pinnacle of an axe murderer, but, for some reason, he didn’t feel like that to you. A bit loose, sure, but the knowledge that this man was entirely mission-driven sat well with you. 

It confused you—why did you not entirely mind having him around?

I can live with this, you tell yourself, brushing off your sweatpants and telling yourself not to think of the bakery or about Sergi, Yefim, or Petya; Aleksandr. 

But when all that’s moved away like a curtain in front of the window, the view still remains. 

The Stalker. 

You still couldn’t rationalize it. How could someone do that? Be so bold and brute-like? And it was all over you. 

Never had you been overconfident in yourself—you knew you had the looks and the money, the ability to do what few people could, but that had never gotten into your head. It was common knowledge that every model had a shelf-life and yours would probably end sooner than later if this kept up. 

Any damage to your flesh that left long-term scarring was an instant dismissal. No negative press for AMA, either. 

In all of this, you were walking a very thin path of horror and reality, like a show at a circus. And you of all people know you can’t walk in a straight line.

The overwhelming feeling of being hunted was setting in and you were entirely in the woods with blood poured over your body; weighing down a dress of linen and calling the beasts to feast upon your flesh with a ravaging appetite. 

Swallowing the bile in your throat, you quickly go to find where Nikto had slinked off to, suddenly very cold and not liking the silence. On the way, you flick at your record player, and the old rusty thing spits out Clair De Lune as the glass sun catchers shaped like stars glimmer from the loft’s beams. 

“Nikto?” You call in question, looking around before you murmur to yourself. “Where did you get to?” 

Carefully grabbing the railing to the stairs, you watch your feet as you slowly ascend, piano music in the background; fingers tight and hard as you slide it up one at a time. You only knock your foot once, two steps from the top, but quickly recover with only a huff and a tiny chuckle. 

Nikto walks through the top seating area filled with your materials and fabric, glancing at every book and measuring device that you have; the half-finished pieces. You blink and watch, wondering what he’s thinking as he clicks his tongue before walking to the first door and pushing it open. Your eyes slightly widen at that. 

“Well, you sure do like making yourself at home,” your voice calls to the dark figure, and you shake your head. You begin following as if he is showing you around your place and not the other way around. 

“I am doing my job.” Nikto’s voice spits out from the opening as you shuffle in. He glances around the small guest bedroom quickly. “Your home is cluttered.” The Russian mutters. “Messy.”

“I call it controlled chaos.” You ease, hands slipping into your pockets beside your phone and wallet. “You’ll find I’m fond of shiny things.”

“We can tell.” Head tilting, you restrain yourself from asking why he keeps referring to himself in the first person like that.

“You’re free to take this room if you want.” There are three doors that make up the separate walls—the one you’d both just walked through, one to the adjoining library and joint bathroom, and the other to your master bedroom with a respective master bath. 

All connected to one another like a train car. 

Nikto grunts and slips his eyes to the bits of personalization you’d left, though not as much as the rest of the penthouse. The bed was a Full size, there was a desk with bits of lush greenery coming off from a planter, and storage for clothes in the form of a large wardrobe you’d found in an antique store. 

Classy, you thought, however, your standards for decoration weren’t the pinnacle of design. A set of Russian nesting dolls from your mother was put onto shelves, and in one of the corners, a hanging oil lamp sat above a nightstand. 

Gray plush duvet and a fluffy rug you were told was purple when Alyona stayed over, with large pillows that looked like bear fur.

“Again,” you send a glance to the blank stare that Nikto keeps on you. “I didn’t know you were staying over.”

“It is… sufficient.” Gruff and final, though with an air of annoyed disgust, the Russian goes into the library second to last and then heads into your room with his broad back expanding; leaving a trail of authority in his wake. 

Under your breath, you quietly mock him before rolling your eyes and following. For all this, you ended up being correct. Nikto was a good distraction. 

The first thing that he notices is the stuffed animals.

They take up most of the window nook, some incredibly large and fluffy while others are small and could be crushed in his palm, even sitting atop one another if the space allowed. Nikto blinks at the sight of a very large bear plushie with a small bird on the head—little felt feet sticking out in front of it. 

You clear your throat, the hot embarrassment flooding your face as your smile turns sheepish. 

“Just…uhm…it’s just a little bit of an addiction.” Like the rest of the house, that fairy tale feeling emanates here as well—fancy curtain holders, old tea cups holding palm-sized pewter statues, paintings, and stained-glass lamps from the nineteen hundreds. 

Pale eyes tilt their gaze down to you, silent as always.   

“But at least it’s not drugs!” You push out quickly, awkwardly chuckling and shrugging your shoulders. 

Your feet shift from under you, the large room that you call your own not something you planned on having to describe today. There was something incredibly intimate about letting someone into your house—someone you didn’t know especially. 

Nikto puffs a bit of air in something akin to a scoff, turning his head away from you but not after a slight quirk of his brow. 

“Are you sure you are not on drugs?” You snap up to stare at him, falling silent for a moment as he turns and leaves. 

Gaping, you stutter, slightly amused, “W-was that a joke, Nikto?” He doesn’t answer and a slow smile grows on your lips. “Hey! C’mon did you just make a joke? Awe,” you coo, “I really am good at this!” 

“Stop talking.” Nikto snarls, glaring as he goes down to the ground level. “You are making my ears hurt.” 

You hurry to the stairs, following after with a steady mood, chuckling. 

“If you’re going to be my glorified roommate, I think talking is part of the—” A sharp gasp rips from you as your leg hits on the banister, your foot locked through the metal as you yelp loudly at the sudden pain. In a quick tilt your vision slides, a swift sensation of gravity taking over as your body takes you tumbling backwards. 

You tense mid-air, mind already made up about the incoming pain of your head knocking off the hard material, your skull rattling and splitting open; blood and brain matter spilling out to coat the—

Arms snap around your waist, legs still on the top half of the stairs and back hitting a large chest as you grunt in surprise; eyes blinking wildly. 

Heart hammering, your head quickly looks up only to find the piercing eyes of Nikto burning down into you. Your nose brushes his face mask, the harsh fabric of the lover half pressing into yours. 

You both stay there for a moment, Nikto’s blazing gaze unphased, it seemed, by the close contact. Inside of your gut, your stomach flips, and a tightness flares in your lungs. 

Upon the air, your voice stutters out, tiny, “M-my bad.” You accent it with a helpless chuckle.

Nikto’s breath brushes over your forehead, and with a quick jerk of his arms you’re set back up on top of the stares. Even here, you meet the man’s height perfectly—him a few steps below you yet still a giant. 

“This will be a problem, yes?” Nikto barks out. You steady yourself on the railing and take a deep breath. “You. You are…” His eyes twitch as if trying to find the correct word in English. He grunts to himself, fingers twitching.

You tilt your head, still calming down. Your throat is tight at the heat that still emanates from where Nikto’s hands had wrapped around you.

“...Shaky?”

“Hm,” Nikto doesn’t seem like that word fits best, but he nods once firmly, folding his arms over his chest and never once releasing you from his stare. Studying you as a monster does a maiden. “Да.”

You jerkily shrug, rubbing at your neck with one hand. 

“Well, I guess brain damage will do that to you,” your lips tilt in an amiable smile—trying to play off what you say as you continue. Nikto’s body goes still, yet his attention never leaves. His eyes narrow. “I should have told you when we met, but you were, eh,” you chuckle, looking away for a moment. “Pretty quick with wanting to leave.”

A strained silence falls; an unknown emotion in the air. 

“I—” Your voice is cut off by your phone vibrating from inside of your pocket, and with your hand snapping to that general area, you blink in surprise. “Oh.” 

Fishing it out with awkward fingers, you find the illuminated screen and a text from Alyona calling up to you.

‘Video call w AMA & managers. 5 min. Be ready!’ 

“Shit,” you mutter, immediately going into your professional headspace. 

But before you can rush off to grab your computer and slap makeup on your face, Nikto’s hand yanks your phone from your grasp. Blinking at your empty palm, your face darts up with a swift offense growing. 

“Nikto!”

“Quiet.” The man taps into your contacts and you watch helplessly as he begins slashing in his own number with his digits firmly pressing in hard intervals to the keypad. 

Huffing, you shake your head and leave him there to do what he needs to do, not overprotective of a device and more concerned with the time constraint that was leveled like a noose around your neck. 

You had to look somewhat good for the call, after all, they could be waiting to tell you you’re fired. 

They wouldn’t do that with Alyona there, you reason as you narrowly dodge running onto a side table before you enter your room again, though this time from the main door. Not the managers either. 

Your lips pull straight. 

But if the CEO was on call, then you’d have to worry. He had no problem being ruthless about policy and public image, always so pretentious with his power over all of the men and women employed at Allurement. 

But then again, he had always seemed to take an interest in you, anyway. 

You slip out of your turtleneck and pull on a silk top that seems either white or a very very pale color—either way, they always put you in something near to white, so it didn’t matter. Since it was a video call, there was no need to show your bottom half; the sweatpants stayed. 

Makeup was the hard part. 

With your nerve spasms always showing up at inopportune times, it took a long time if someone else wasn’t doing it for you. You had ways to combat it, sure, but none you could get ready in five minutes. 

Three, you tell yourself. 

An idea hits your head like a rock.

“Nikto!” You call, rushing to your vanity and pushing aside a plush raccoon to snag your mascara. There wasn’t time for anything else. “I have a favor!”

“No,” the man materializes in the opening of your door, the backdrop of your fabric mess in the loft behind him; the clashing of shades momentarily confuses you, blinking quickly, but you recover with a huff and a plea.

“I need you to put my mascara on—my hands are too unpredictable right now.” He’s growling in the way you’re already accustomed to. This must be one hell of a day for him. “Your job is to protect me right? I need you to protect me from public humiliation.”

“Then humiliate yourself.” Nikto’s narrowed eyes lower even farther, face turned sharply to you as you walk over and hold out the stick. “This is not my job.”

You dig hard into his eyes, serious if not a bit willing. “I’d owe you.” Your tone is hard but true. 

The Russian bear’s shoulders roll slightly, getting higher and more irritated. He grunts at you. After a long and heartstopping moment, he grabs onto your pocket and slips your phone back inside, jostling your body into his as you make a noise in surprise. 

In that same movement, the mascara stick is yanked from your hand and fingers grapple onto your chin. 

Your eyes go wide; body instantaneously tensing, as the unyielding grip moves your chin to the side and one hand unscrews the mascara with a slight pop of the seal. 

“You are dependent,” Nikto’s digits are tight, but you don’t blink or pull away as the stick spreads pigment. “I do not like it, Girl. Like child running with a knife.” 

“Aren’t you such a ray of sunshine?” You grumble but stay deathly still. Nikto’s body is tight against yours, leaning over you. 

The guy certainly didn’t mind getting handsy if he needed to. Thinking like that makes your feet shuffle tinily under you, a heat emanating from your cheeks and your thighs momentarily becoming stiff. 

His body warmth bleeds through his bulk; the grating press of his chest plate to your upper body.

“Stop breathing,” Nikto hisses and your cheek is moved to the side, knee knocking into his leg. 

You feel and see the stick descend and move your lashes delicately, quite adverse to the attitude you’re getting. The Russian is attentive and set on getting his task done, even if he despises it.

“What kind of a request is that?!” 

“Hush!” He barks and you both try to glare at each other as the last of the mascara is bushed on. “Get out.”

You pull back and frown up at him.

“I’m sorry you think that your attitude is appropriate, Nikto.” With your nose in the air, your hands grapple for your laptop on the way out of your room and sit at the desk out in your loft. Tossing a stack of fabric to the floor and brushing down the surface. 

Behind you, there’s a plain-colored sheet hung to the wall for conferences—and you make sure it’s in place as you plop down to your seat. 

Nikto’s angry eyes bore into you from the doorway, which he slowly leans against and crosses his arms heavily. 

He mutters under his breath in fast Russian, shaking his head as you unlock your laptop and log in, easily clicking where you need to go and pulling up your video call with twenty seconds to spare. 

Alyona’s face appears first, looking to the side, and you send a soft smile before you unmute yourself. 

“Feeling better?” The woman perks up, eyes coming to you. She beams.

“Солнышко!” You laugh, tilting your head. “No, no, forget about me, how are you?” Aly gives you her full attention. “I need to come over and visit, yes? We should have a girl’s night again. Just us.” 

“I’m…alright,” you simply say, fast to reassure her of her worries. There was no need to burden the model with your fears. Not when she’s still living with her own. “And that might be a bit difficult on the ‘just us’ part, unfortunately.”

She sighs but is serious in her concern.

“New bodyguard, Seraph?” Nikto listens to everything from across the loft, and you glance up at him before you open your mouth to speak in the affirmative.

“Live-in.” Alyona thins her lips, but, surprisingly, doesn’t seem off-put. 

“Perhaps that is good, hm? If it’s to keep you safe, I would be willing to deal with it.” Before you can admit that it’s not the worst idea in the world, though draining, three others pop into the call.

Yours and Alyona’s managers, and, of course, the CEO of AMA. 

You have to hide your curse before it sneaks out of your mouth. Everyone greets one another, and you send polite smiles and hellos in return. Corporate professionalism a virus that sweeps your features into a mask of compliance and brain-dead agreements. 

Kliment Fedorov, CEO of Allurement Modeling Agency, shows his large and round face in the very center of the screen; with tiny eyes like a fly and a bald head. He’s in his office.

The man calls your name and smiles wide, pure white teeth leaning more towards fake looking than just the results of frequent brushing. 

“It is good to see both of my best girls getting along. No lasting marks, I hope?” You and Aly dart look. 

“None, Sir.” You both answer, still smiling and falling in line. They only speak in English for your comfort—in your manager’s box, you see his translator lean into his ear and relay the words being let out.

“Good, good! This is great news. Seraph,” you perk up, Nikto from the back shuffling while looking around his surroundings. He picks at a piece of reflective fabric on a side table with his brutish fingers, twisting it before huffing and tossing it away. He snoops as if put off by the high-mass areas, used to order and cleanliness. 

Not that it wasn’t clean, but outwardly it gave off a certain impression of clutter.

“How soon can you be back? We have had even more propositions offered because of this event.” Your lungs stutter. “Mrs. Solovyova and yourself are very profitable for the company at the current time; this only made your popularity better!” 

Your manager, Kostya, spits off into his native tongue with its harsh edges. Nikto’s head shifts back your way but says nothing. 

Profitable? Wanted? You can’t say you’re overly thrilled at the comments. Just like you can’t say you want to get back to work when the Stalker knows exactly where you’ll be. 

Who could say when he would strike again? A day? A week? Going back to AMA would make the target on your back as large as a damn elephant.

Kliment waves a hand and your manager falls silent at the sheen of anger in his fly-eyes. He continues.

“Of course, AMA had to take precautions, Ladies.” Alyona shifts in her box on the screen, glancing to the side. “We were very close to having to terminate your deal with us. Such events are…ah, dangerous for our image.”

It’s like a punch to the gut you knew was coming. The only reason you were still employed was because of companies trying to profit off of the girls who beat the odds and survived a direct attack on one of their own. 

You could already see the headlines—had seen the headlines. 

Aly and you know the response you need to give.

“Thank you, Sir.” Smiles are stiff, but a sheet of pleasure washes Kliment’s face.

“Well, of course, my girls! I would never get rid of such beauties, no, no. This agency is your home—I love my women like my own.” His eyes stay on you, and your body shivers even miles away. “But lovely Seraph, again, when can we have you back? Everyone has been asking, yes? Photographers lining up! But of course, you’ll keep your assigned one.” 

Everyone? You swallow down saliva thinking about crowds and the peering eyes. 

“Uhm,” Nikto openly stares, and you glance up at him. He offers no help above a tilt of his head; arms over his chest. “W-when would you need me back, Sir. My calendar is always free for you.”

“Good! Tomorrow, then. Mrs. Solovyova?” 

“...That works for me, Sir.” 

“Perfect!” You sigh and close your eyes for a moment before the CEO jumps into business—your managers taking notes in preparation for scheduling and locations. “I will send the details over to your departments and good wishes to the companies, I’ll expect to hear of you both being in tomorrow.” 

He leaves the call, but not without a smirk forming on his face. 

The managers talk for a few moments, getting almost everything in order before they too leave. 

Aly and you release a deep breath, both sagging. The other woman is first to speak.

“Bastard.” Nikto scoffs from across the room. You peek before you rub your head and nod in turn. 

“A creep, one hundred percent.” Alyona sighs, and her palm acts as a headrest as she lays her chin on it. She licks her lips, face going hard.

“You don’t think that he…” Your brows tilt in confusion before you catch what she’s trying to say. 

“No, Aly, it can’t be him.” She frowns. “T-that would be,” you force a laugh, hands beginning to spasm. Swiftly you move them under the desk. “That would be insane.”

Nikto takes his phone out of his pocket and taps something into the screen, feet spacing themselves in a display of a perfect soldier. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, Солнышко.” You turn away for a moment. “Anyone could be at this point.” 

“My mother said there was a break-in at the bakery before the explosion. Someone planted that bomb because they guessed on an off chance that we would go out.” You breathe sharply. “Do you know how insane that is? Anyone could have,” swiftly stopping your sentence, you shake your head to clear it. “It’s…the person who’s doing this can’t blend into normal life. It has to be obvious, and everyone’s missing it.”

“Easy, Little Seraph,” Alyona eases, showing you a hand to get you to come back to her. “We will figure this out, yes?” 

A hand rubs along your face and you whisper out, “Okay.” 

“I’ll see you and the new man tomorrow—you know you can call me with anything. Nikifor and I worry about you. Yekaterinburg is a dangerous place, regardless.” You have to smile at that, lightly chuckling. Aly tilts her head as her hair brushes her shoulders after a moment of quiet thinking. A lighter air spreads out like her voice from the speakers. “...Who did your makeup in so little time?” 

“See you tomorrow!” You grab the end of the laptop and slam it closed as the woman yells out to you.

“Don’t fuck him on the first day!” Wanting to shrivel up and die, you avoid Nikto’s suddenly brutal gaze and quickly push a smile to your lips.

“S…she’s joking.” His pale eyes aren’t amused. 

Nighttime is a strange affair between the two of you.

You jump at every strange noise—like Nikto rearranging his room better to his standards—as you think of dinner for two. Laying on the couch, back in your turtle neck, it’s hard to focus above the scrape of hardwood and the low grunts from above; the distant rhythmic stomp of feet.

You rub your eyes and groan low. This was going to be a task, even for your usually placid attitude. 

“What the hell does a monster eat?” The comment is directed at the taxidermy deer on your wall as you move to stand. “Liver? The souls of my enemies?” You blink, pausing before you mumble. “Maybe that’s not so bad, now that I think about it.” 

Your pantry was already sparse at best. 

Tapping the cupboard, you settle on something that Alyona had taught you to make with her mother. Cabbage Soup—Schi or щи—low overall in calories but still filling when you know your limits; healthy as well as hardy. You mess with the bag of potatoes and peel out a few, turning and setting them down on the island. 

With the dark night soon setting in, you push the automatic button on your wall and watch the curtains close the rest of the way with a soft buzzing sound. Sighing, you flick on the lights and get to work as the gray blobs of potatoes fall apart under your knife, set to the side. 

Cooking, while you still had a complicated relationship with food, did truly make you calm down. The tremors eased up, your feet stopped moving so much—you even felt yourself getting hungry as the ingredients were roughly chopped and dropped into a pot to boil. 

If you allowed yourself it, you wouldn’t have minded growing up to be a cook instead of some form of greed and envy. But the thought of that now made you lose your appetite entirely.

When you’re half done with your tiny bowl, water on the side with nothing else, Nikto stalks down the stairs. 

He takes one look at your bowl and speaks lowly. 

“Щи.” You hum, recognizing the word that Aly’s mother had said. He grunts, chest jerking as he comes around the island to the boiling pot; his back now to you. “You will starve with that small of a portion, Whelp.” 

Blinking, you sip down some of the broth from your spoon and furrow your brow. That nickname still makes your eyelids narrow in slight disapproval, but you let it go.

“I don’t think so, Nikto. It’s the last bit of calories I need for the day.” Pale eyes watch over his shoulder, pulling smaller.

“I find that insulting.” His hand grabs the ladle, bringing it up to stare. The Russian’s shoulder blades pull out at the motion, the line of his spine most likely showing through his skin under all that gear. You should tell him it’s okay to take it off, but you highly doubt he ever does outside of sleep. “Pointless.”

“You try being a model,” you remark. “You’ve got the body for it, at least. I know a few people that would swoon over the height alone.” 

Nikto’s visible skin pulls, biceps tense. “Swoon, Girl?” The accent makes it sound like a bark from a dog. 

You take your last spoonful, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak. 

“Like,” pausing, you swallow, “actually I don’t know what that means. Become emotionally affected, I guess?”

“I do not care if people become ‘emotionally affected’ by my height.” Nikto pulls a bowl from the cupboard—a large one. “Such things are below me. All that matters is the mission.”

“Sounds boring,” you huff. “Sour cream is in the fridge.” 

The light from the machine greets you as the condiment is taken out and emptied into a nearly overflowing bowl of cabbage soup. Blinking at the amount of food that would burst your stomach if you ate it, you shrug and clean out the last of the broth by bringing the lip of the bowl to your mouth. 

Nikto huffs, looking down at the soup. He pauses.

“Where is баранины?” Your confusion must be plainly stated on your face because he seems to clench his jaw and say through his teeth. “Lamb.”

“Alyona never made it with meat,” you answer, hopping off your stool and moving to put your dirty dishes in the sink. “But I’ve heard everyone makes it differently depending on where you grew up. Was that how your parents made it?” 

When you turn back around he’s already walking away from you. Watching, wide-eyed at how silently he cleared the room, you make a small sound in the back of your throat as he disappears upstairs.

The silence wafts back in, only the small noise from the record player dancing in your ears. 

You lick your lips for the remaining taste of food and clean up with a still-growling stomach, shaking your head at the strange character living with you. Hoping this doesn’t drag out any longer than it has to and you’re able to find the stalker soon, you hear your phone go off on the counter as you mull over your predicament. 

After you put the last of the leftovers away, you pat your hands on your pants and reach for your device, flipping over the screen and reading what will probably be a text from Aly for tomorrow. 

You pause. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

‘Why won’t you let me love you?’ 

Staring, whatever sense of normalcy you had from cooking was snatched away. The blood in your veins halts with a blockage of iron and fear. Instantaneously, adrenaline spikes, making your pupils go small and your jaw clench. 

Hands shake. You almost drop your phone. 

With a quick punch of your fingers, you delete the text and block the number—tossing your device back to the counter and moving away from it until your back hits the cupboards. 

Spasming palms slap to the stone countertop, grip tight. 

You stare at the phone for a very long time, hearing nothing but the dull drone of the piano, the sounds of the city outside, and the pulse of your veins. Static was in your ears. 

Gasping for a sudden deep breath, you clear your throat and turn away to finish cleaning, your body unable to stay still.

That night, like the ones previous, you find trouble sleeping. 

The room was only illuminated by the fairy lights you’d strung from the ceiling, a soft fade and reentry like twinkling stars hanging in a black sky. You stare at them with open eyes, laying on your back surrounded by a multitude of quilts and blankets—pillows that crowd with doughy insides. 

Nikto was turning in his bed, and the movement was setting you on edge. 

The PMC had ordered you to keep the door between your rooms open at night, in case something was happening he would hear you better. You held your tongue on the fact that if this creep managed to get into your penthouse then it was already over for you. Regardless, now you could hear every shift and grunt—every huff of annoyed air. 

No doubt the Full bed in the spare room was too tiny for him, nothing compared to your King. 

Sighing and covering your eyes with your forearm, you call out sleepily. 

“Are you sleeping alright?” The shifting stops. You wait for a response but get none. “Nikto?” Nothing. 

Sitting up, your large silk pajamas hang off one shoulder as you yawn; covering your mouth you stand and steady yourself on the oak bed frame. Standing so you can get your bearings, you decide to do what you normally do when you can’t sleep. 

Grabbing your phone’s flashlight, you flick it on and head to the kitchen—being extra careful and taking the stairs at half the speed you normally would. In the kitchen you grab at the stacked teacups and pick one with flowers on the sides; giggling to yourself at the thought.

Magnolia Tea. 

Its smell burns into your nostrils as you prepare it in near-darkness, like a beacon of light the liquid shimmers. You remember your mother making it for you after the accident—helping you to sleep and stave off the nightmares; the insomnia. 

You finish your cup in the kitchen but bring the second back up with you. Spilling only a little onto the tea plate, you go through the main door to your room and then turn to the blackened opening of Nitko’s doorway. 

“I made tea,” your voice echoes. But no sound. 

Maybe he was already asleep now. 

“No need to drink it, but it helps me when I can’t sleep. Magnolia, if you’re curious.” You chuckle, fairy lights illuminating your face. “Sorry, I’m keeping you up. I’ll leave it in the doorway, okay?”

Silence, but perhaps a tiny huff from inside the lion's den. Good or bad, you have no clue. Slipping back into bed, you try not to think about what you’re sleeping above—the letters from the Stalker’s gifts. 

You’d never opened them, and you never would. Inside that lockbox is where they would stay.

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and even with the tea in your stomach, it is a long, long, time before your eyes flutter closed. 

Yefim’s body dances like a puppet on a string, a shadowy figure pulling the cords and letting his decimated corpse sway; jewelry stapled into his burnt neck like a collar. A noose that your desperate fingers try to hang onto.

How long could you keep this game up?

TAGS:

@anna-banana27, @random-thot-generator, @midwesternwitchery, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @halfmoth-halfman, @alpineswinter, @blingblong55, @cryingnotcrying, @lxne20, @not-eclipse, @theecoffeebean, @phoenixhalliwell, @h3ll-guttz, @tiinkerbell, @genjilvr, @azush4rp, @escapefromrealitysm, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @finnigansxz, @cowboybaby2, @delaynew, @doggydale, @zapphir, @littlemisstrouble, @xxtmoe, @grizzersmamma, @andreas-river, @blogdddxx, @jade-jax, @emthegrace, @lovebugmsyd, @makariaspresence, @noisyprofessorhoundsalad-blog, @scythebot, @blueoorchid, @kra-rino4ka, @caramlizedtomatos, @strawberymilk,@frazie99, @homicidal-slvt, @develised, @crispyhusband, @cathnoneofyourbusiness, @ghostslittlegf, @generalcloudtraveler, @azsteris, @rvjaa, @creminemisinthehizzyforshizzboy, @comsyki

#ravishing allure #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #mwii nikto #nikto x reader #cod nikto #nikto #cod modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #cod mw22 #mw2 2022 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #cod x female reader #x fem!reader

[starrose17]

It doesn't matter if you ship Loki and Mobius or not, if you see them as friends/companions, hell even just work colleagues, because in some sense of the word in whichever ever way you want to view it, Loki fell for Mobius.

Fell for his friendship, his honesty, his wit, his innocence, his heart, all combined with the others that Loki calls friends at the TVA to give up his eternal life for the sake of every living thing across the entire multiverse.

And just knowing that Loki, immortal being of Asgard, who could technically really have anyone he wanted if he tried, fell for a middle aged single dad jetski salesman, is just so...heartwarmingly satisfying.

Whether you view it as romantic or friendship, Mobius was the light Loki had been missing his entire life, and its beautiful, I love them, and that ending was the greatest most brilliantly heartbreakingly wonderful thing Marvel have done in a long time.

#loki #mobius #lokius

[appocalipse]

Hiiii angst fic idea!!! Sorry if they are weird you can totally ignore this <3

Miscommunication with steve, maybe he makes reader feel bad but he didn't want to and reader just goes quiet and he doesn't understand, but tries really hard to make everything better, with a happy ending maybe, if you want.

Or another idea is that Steve is with a very extroverted r and everybody think it's weird, so r feels kinda insecure but cute ol steve makes her feel better (i feel like this is more of hurt/comfort, but maybe you like the idea).

Ok, that all, byeeee!!!

thank you so much for your request ♥ you're welcome to send more!

The neon lights of the arcade flicker against your face, illuminating your features as you watch Steve play Centipede. You lean against the machine, your arms crossed, as you wait for him to finish the game. It's a Friday night, and you've been looking forward to this all week. It's your first date in a while; you want it to be perfect.

"You're up," Steve says, turning to you with a grin.

You smile back, feeling that familiar warmth inside your chest. "Watch and learn, baby," you tease, taking the joystick from him.

Steve watches as you play, offering tips and encouragement when you need it. You're having fun, but you can't shake the feeling that something's off. Steve seems distracted, distant almost, like he's trying too hard to seem like he's paying attention. He's not nearly as talkative as he usually is, and you find yourself carrying most of the conversation.

As you finish the game, Steve turns to you. "That was impressive," he says, but far from usual, his tone is flat.

You try to ignore the feeling of disappointment that creeps up in your chest, the sting of insecurity squeezing at your heart. "Thanks," you murmur, putting the joystick back in its place. "Do you want to… try something else?"

You kind of expected what happens next: Steve shakes his head.

"I hate to cut the night short, but I'm really feeling exhausted," he confesses, taking your hand and absently running his thumb over your palm. "Can I take you home?"

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. "Yeah, sure."

As you walk out of the arcade, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. This is far from how you envisioned the night going. You wanted it to be romantic, special, something to make up for lost time…yet you don't want to disregard Steve's feelings. It wouldn't be fair.

Once outside, Steve turns to you, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to be distant tonight. It's just…I've got a lot on my mind."

You're pretty sure he can sense the way you feel sometimes. "What's going on?" you ask, relief and concern washing over you at the same time.

Steve hesitates, his eyes flickering away from yours. "It's nothing, really," he says, his voice strained. "Just some stuff with work, you know. It's been tough lately."

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend the weight of what he's saying. "I understand," you say softly. "I'm here for you, Steve. Always."

Steve's gaze meets yours again, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret, maybe, or guilt. "I know," he agrees. "I'm sorry. I just…I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You've got your own stuff going on."

You shake your head, feeling a little frustrated. "That's not the point," you say. "We're in this together, remember? That's what a relationship is about. Sharing the good and the bad."

Steve looks at you, and you see something shift in his expression. A softness, a vulnerability. "You're right," he says. "As always. I'll…I'll do better, I promise."

You smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I know you will," you say. "And…I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have assumed things without talking to you first."

Steve takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "It's okay," he says. "We all make mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them."

"Oooh, you're so wise all of a sudden," you say, playfully poking his arm. "But enough serious talk for tonight. Let's get you home so you can rest."

You both start walking towards Steve's car, the cool night air brushing against your skin. As you get closer, you notice the way the streetlights cast a warm, golden glow over the pavement. You take in a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you.

Steve's hand slips into yours, and you feel a spark of electricity run through you. You turn to him, noticing the way his eyes crinkle adorably at the corners when he grins at you.

Steve's grin widens, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds good to me," he says. "But, you know, I suddenly don't feel so tired anymore."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh?" you prompt.

He leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your cheek. "Yeah," he says, his voice low and husky. "I was thinking maybe I could stay at your place tonight. You know, for some extra rest."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I don't know," you say, teasingly. "I don't want to be a bad influence."

Steve laughs, a sound that sends the best kind of shiver down your spine. "Too late for that," he says, his eyes shining with warmth. What more could you ask for?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

[emmitaaa4]

“A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her.”

I'm tearing up. The comment below is how Azriel would speak of Elain when xyz happens and he lets his heart pour out (and I have the evidence of course).

She doesn’t like change and loves to love the world around her.

“Beautiful.” / “After all of this, the world needs more gardens.”

“In celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

She loves so hard she hurts herself at times and doesn't let me pick up the pieces, even though I always do it anyway.

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today--that love would trump even a mating bond.

(...)

Azriel carried Elain down, my sister silent and unresponsive in his arms. (...) Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm (...) and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

"What if" - I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden. “That is what she needs?

“I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else."

“Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body.”

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose.

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” / It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. / Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding had freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

“What about Elain?” / “I’m getting her back” “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” 

Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (...) Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

 

He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” (...) I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

 “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. (...) Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. (...) earning a grateful smile from Elain. (...) the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” (...) A fight with Nesta. don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

“We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation.

She’s stubborn like a mule but as delicate as a flower, always sad but never beaten.

“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of how we meet the consequences.”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those same smiles before, on my own damn face. / Elain, it seemed, was as sleepless as me.

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever? You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to live a small, quiet life, while refusing to let me do anything greater.”

I love the way she understand what I'm trying to say without needing to hear me say it, when I can't seem to formulate anything at all.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly.

He left the rest unspoken. (…) Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

"Yes," Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

She's probably the best thing that's happened to me.

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” (...) Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room.

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that (...) she understood why he stood near the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

There she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

A headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the HoW. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. (...) Elain's mouth twitched into a smile (...) He offered a smile back.

His head went quiet.

There is lust. There is tension. But there is also so much more.

#my loves #wrote this with lana playing im not okay #elriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #pro azriel #acowar #acofas #acosf

[yellow-yarrow]

director's commentary for this post (lmao) because I like yapping

the reason why I choose these artworks is not just because they looked good, I thought it was interesting how they treat colors, light and rot

Damien Hirst's Black Sun is made of many dead flies, people have said that this artwork smells gross up close. Its theme is obviously death and disgust (like most of his works), he has also said the flies represent people, and quotes Hobbes saying that people's life without a government is bad and tragic (which I HEAVILY disagree with)

Hirst sells his works for millions of dollars, it's highly commercialized, some have accused him of money laundering and such. Insert the Wompty-Dompty Dom Centre thought:

Problem It's Wednesday evening and something heinously exciting is under way. People have gathered beneath the billowing roof of an oddly shaped trophy building, sipping wine and exchanging opinions. 29-year-old wunder-twins Guy and Keith Joost are the stars of the show, with their bomber jackets and white sneakers -- head curators of this art exhibition. It's the wompty-dom-di-dommiest event of the year and all the cool kids have RSVP’d. Where are you, if you are not there? Solution You're at home, stupid cop, not with the art crowd. You hate them, everyone hates them, even they hate themselves. It's nauseating -- an industry built on sprezzatura and sparkling wine. And, let’s be honest, tax evasion schemes. The Wompty Dompty Dom Centre is the heart of this unholy symbiosis of esthetics and tax optimization, and now that you've internalized it – you can have a piece too!

personally, for me, it invokes disgust both on an aesthetic level (dead flies) and in a conceptual level (rich guy using death to make millions). Tieing this into black being the color of money in Elysium, and the end of the world.

Malevich's Black square is a painting without an object, it doesn't represent the material world, it is independent of it. but at the same time, black is the density of matter in the white empty space.

He said this about this art: "[Black Square is meant to evoke] the experience of pure non-objectivity in the white emptiness of a liberated nothing." "It is from zero, in zero, that the true movement of being begins." (x) ‘In the year 1913, trying desperately to free art from the dead weight of the real world, I took refuge in the form of the square.’ (x)

Important context for this work (like many other black paintings) is that it was made around the time of the world wars, and the russian revolution. Black paintings express the trauma of the world wars, and in this case the revolutionary approach to art too.

quoting from the article I linked:

Malevich had been collaborating with the musician Mikhail Matyushin and the poet Aleksei Kruchenykh on a manifesto which called for the rejection of rational thought. They wanted to overturn the established systems and hierarchies of Western society. Together with poet Velimier Khlebnikov they staged Victory over the Sun, where the characters aimed to abolish reason by capturing the sun and destroying time. The libretto used Kruchenykh’s zaum – a new language of sounds that had no meaning. This sparked something in Malevich.

Similar things apply to White on white. The Moma website describes it better than I would:

[Malevich] "wanted White on White to create a sense of floating and transcendence. White, Malevich believed, was the color of infinity and signified a realm of higher feeling, a utopian world of pure form that was attainable only through nonobjective art. Indeed, he named his theory of art Suprematism to signify “the supremacy of pure feeling or perception in the pictorial arts”; and pure perception, he wrote, demanded that a picture’s forms “have nothing in common with nature.” In 1918, soon after the Russian Revolution, the connotations of this sense of liberation were not only aesthetic but also social and political. Malevich expressed his exhilaration in a manifesto one year later: “I have overcome the lining of the colored sky. . . . Swim in the white free abyss, infinity is before you.”

These molding fruits made out of gemstones by Kathleen Ryan make me think of Damien Hirst's bedazzled Skull artwork, decadence, kitsch, death. The gemstones make the mold feel like it has value, importance, like it's almost sacred. The pale as a "sacred and terrible smell"

Rothko's paintings heavily empathize colors, paintings like these invite us to really experience those colors and be moved by them.

From the Disco Elysium artbook:

Eyes are direct, unmediated input to the brain. You like or dislike something before you have a chance to reason about it. It affects you emotionally without offering you a chance to throw up intellectual defenses first. Witnessing death and good art are materially equivalent experiences: they are visual information transmitted straight to the centers of emotion by way of the eye. This might explain why a person could tear up in the presence of a Rothko painting. If you’re a sensitive enough instrument, seeing his Orange, Red, Yellow in real life feels intense. It doesn’t work on a computer screen though, you’re just staring at some bright pixels imitating the appearance of the painting the same way seeing a dead person is different from seeing a picture of a dead person.

El Lissitzky was also an important figure in russian avant-garde, like Malevich. Well. I put this one in here cause it looked nice and because of the theme of light and the lack of (it's a gelatin silver photograph).

maybe this adds something to the discussion of the symbolism of colors and light in Elysium

#long post / #I love art history and talking about art so much #what do i tag this #its going into my #de meta #tag

[pankowperfection]

For Rudy or Drew, you pick. You and him are best friends. He takes you to all the premiers and parties because he loves you so much and wants you to have the time of your life, but he always ends up taking someone else home afterward. One night, you decide you're sick of waiting for him to finally see you, so you decide to hook up with some random at the party. His own hookup doesn't go well (girl is too sloppy drunk or something) and he goes looking for you to go home. He finds you making out with some guy, becomes enraged and jealous, takes you home, and shows you in the most unholy way who you really belong to.

Tired of Waiting

warnings: smut, 18+, oral (fem receiving), slight choking

Another night, another party at some upscale club in downtown Los Angeles. You'd almost grown tired of this routine, Rudy inviting you to every event, even going as far as buying you outfits to wear. No matter what you did or how hard you tried to get him to see you as more than a friend or the "good time girl", he always ended up leaving with someone else. Tonight would be no different it seemed.

The laser lights bounce off of every reflective surface, almost making it hard to see as you wind your hips to the beat of the song the DJ is playing. As if your body can sense his presence, you turn around and spot the tall blonde man in the corner. Anger simmers in your system when you see a long legged brunette approaching him, quickly pulling him into a kiss while his hands slide to her ass.

You march your way over to the bar, ordering a double shot of tequila and catching the attention of an attractive stranger in the process. His eyes descend over your body, warming your skin from the inside out as his gaze lingers on your cleavage spilling from the top of your dress before sliding lower, taking his time to admire your bare legs.

"Damn sweetheart, you're this beautiful and you love tequila? Where have you been all my life?"

You laugh for the first time that night, enjoying the fact that someone can appreciate you.

"Well thank you. You look pretty hot yourself."

He's almost the opposite of Rudy. Short, brown hair. An intricate sleeve of tattoos working its way from his muscled forearm up until it disappears under his stylish button down shirt. He definitely works out, biceps threatening to rip the material to shreds if he moves the wrong way. His confidence is sexy, you can't quite put your finger on it but something about him screams dangerous and you are loving it. Your heart kicks into overdrive when he grabs your hand and pulls you onto the dance floor.

His hands make a new home on your hips, pulling your back flush against his front as you start to grind against him. His hot breath fans over your neck and tickles your ear, an involuntary shiver shooting through your body at the sensations. Without overthinking it you spin in his arms, placing your hands behind his neck and pulling him into a heated kiss.

If he was surprised he doesn't show it. One hand slides into your hair, angling your head before his tongue pushes into your mouth. The other moves to cup your ass, grabbing a handful before landing a soft spank that makes you gasp. You're so caught up in the moment you don't even notice Rudy emerging from the back hallway, the girl from earlier already forgotten as she was too drunk to even stand up.

He rudely interrupts the moment, clearly pissed about not getting a hookup tonight. "Come on y/n, time to go."

You jump at the sound of his voice, feeling guilty for a second before it disappears. "No thanks Rudy, I think I'll stay."

You give him your back, about to start kissing your new mystery man again before being pulled back by your wrist.

"I said let's go. Don't make me tell you again."

Something in his eyes tells you he isn't kidding. You mutter a quick apology to your date before being dragged out of the club, struggling to keep up with Rudy's long strides in your heels.

The ride home is deathly quiet, the tension between the two of you so thick you can taste it. When he takes a turn that leads to his place rather than yours your anxiety kicks up a notch.

"What are you doing Ru? You know this isn't the way to my apartment."

"Shut up y/n. Don't push me right now."

You've never seen him like this, eyes wild with you weren't sure what. His grip on the steering wheel tight enough to make his knuckles white. As soon as you pull up to his house he's out of the car, slamming the door behind him as you try to catch up.

"What the fuck is your problem today? You take home a different girl every time we go out and the ONE time I find a guy who is interested in me, you ruin it."

The words are barely out of your mouth before you're shoved against the front door that just shut behind you, hands easily pinned above your head with just one of his.

"You want to know what my problem is sweetheart? News flash, it's you. How can you not see that I've been trying to keep myself in control around you since the day we met?"

He cages you in, leaning his forehead against yours until he's so close that each word from his mouth brushes against your lips. The hard lines of his body somehow feel just right pressed against your soft curves, heat settling low in your belly at the feeling of his semi hard cock laying against your stomach.

"Everything about you drives me crazy. Do you know how many times I've had to take care of myself after being around you in a tiny excuse for a bikini or a super short dress? How many nights I've imagined what you taste like? How you sound when you moan? If you want me as badly as I want you?"

Pleasure replaces your initial shock, hot lust swirling through your veins as his words sink in.

"If all that is true, then what are you going to do about it? Hmm?"

You want to tease him, make him wait like he has you but the truth is you are tired of waiting, desperate to see if the rumors are true about how good he is in bed.

"I'm going to show you what you always should have known, you're mine sweetheart."

He doesn't waste anymore time, capturing you in a passionate kiss that you feel all the way to your toes. He moans at the taste of you and you take advantage, plunging your tongue into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss he easily picks you up, wrapping your legs around his torso before carrying you to the couch.

He gets your dress off in record time, hungry eyes taking in every inch of your exposed flesh. Your mouth dries when he pulls off his shirt and pants, leaving him in only his tight boxers with a very large tent in the front.

"Like what you see baby?" he taunts, pulling you back into his embrace before pushing you onto the plush cushions of the couch. The weight of his body on tops of yours feels so good, his sinful mouth making a path from your jaw down your neck, biting and sucking deep bruises into your skin.

Satisfied with his work he moves further south, eagerly licking and nibbling each of your nipples until they stiffen into hard peaks. Each flick of his tongue over your sensitive flesh sends bolts of pleasure straight to your clit, almost like an imaginary wire is connecting the two.

"God Rudy, feels so good."

You feel him smirk against your skin, your fingers winding their way into his hair while he trails kisses down your torso. You hold your breath in anticipation when he gets closer to your aching pussy, a small whine leaving your lips when he starts his torture over again, working his way from your knee up to the inside of your thigh, avoiding where you need him most.

"Such a pretty pussy," he murmurs, finally sliding two fingers through your slit, gathering wetness while he situates himself between your thighs, one leg over each of his shoulders. "Be a good girl for me and let me make you forget all about that guy at the bar."

You don't have time to respond before he's on you, tongue diving deep, teasing around your soaking hole before gliding up and over your clit. He devours you like a starved man, no inch of your sensitive flesh untouched by his skilled tongue. In no time at all you feel your high building, shameless grinding into his face while you tug harshly on his hair.

"That's it sweetheart, take what you need. You taste fucking amazing, want you to soak my face baby."

His dirty words do nothing to help the flames of desire scorching through your system. Two of his thick fingers sink into your wet heat and your back arches off the couch, loud moans echoing off the walls when he curls them just right to stroke your sweet spot.

He doubles his efforts, quickly flicking your sensitive clit up and down with his tongue while his fingers slowly pump in and out. Your orgasm hits you like a train, whole body shaking as you cum with his name spilling from your lips. He laps up every last drop of your release, your thighs trembling from the incredible pleasure before you finally push him away.

Before you can process what's happened he's all the way naked, stroking his huge cock through your wetness while his eyes stay glued to your face.

"Tell me you want this y/n. I need to hear you say it."

Your breath catches in your throat when the tip catches on your entrance, desperation taking over at just how badly you need him inside of you.

"I want you Rudy. Please fuck me."

You barely finish your sentence before he buries himself inside you to the hilt in one, hard thrust. You both are breathing heavy, a sexy groan leaving his lips at how good you feel wrapped around him.

"Shit, I'm never gonna be able to get enough. This pussy was made for me."

All you can do is nod, too drunk on the feeling of him filling you over and over to form a coherent thought. He sets a brutal rhythm, one hand wrapping around your throat while the other grips tightly on your hips, forcing you to remain in place.

Your hands circle his muscular biceps, nails leaving crescent moon indents in his skin. You start to clench around him, a second orgasm building quickly. His lips trail up your neck before melding with yours, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and making you moan.

"Come on baby, cum for me." Sweat glistens on his brow, making him look so irresistible you can't help but imagine licking every inch of his skin. The hand on your throat skates down your body to rub your clit in smooth circles, his other hand coming up to play with your nipples.

The extra stimulation is all you needed. You fall apart with a scream, clenching around him so hard he can't resist, filling you up with his warm release while continuing to give you soft thrusts. He reaches up to push your hair out of your face, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss while still buried inside of you.

"You realize there is no going back from this right? You're mine now y/n, I mean it."

You laugh, pulling his face back down to give him another slow kiss. "Of course you idiot, I've always been yours."

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @faithforgottenlxnd @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @ilovetheavenger143

#obx smut #smut #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader

[zombiedumbie]

hurt! [law]

summary: "@makemake22: how about s/o who attending Law injuries? Like, he basically attending all his crew injuries, but he haven't because he doesn't wanna make his crew worried. And suddenly his s/o noticed that."

content: fluff, no pronouns used, basically the summary

pairing: law x gn!reader

word count: 1045

an: hey, this is my first request! I'm kinda nervous ngl.

One of the things you always admired about Law was his ability to sense danger. It had saved the crew several times before, and this time would be no different - if only you had listened.

You had disembarked on a small commercial island, which seemed as peaceful as the dozens of others you had stopped at. Law asked to the crew not to separate, not to wander randomly around the island or cause trouble, but all he received in response was the crew splitting up into small groups and wandering around.

You saw that man falling apart. He sighed loudly and grumbled because no one listened to him; all you could do for him was to stroke his back, tell him that everything would be fine, and that the Log Pose would soon register the island.

You couldn't have been more wrong.

In a matter of hours, you had seen most of the crew lying on the ground, while you forced yourself to fight. The island was under the control of a mafia boss who was not happy to see pirates walking its streets, even though you were just buying a few things and hadn't posed a threat to anyone.

He had managed to take down most of you, targeting the weakest first out of cowardice. Some others were more resilient, like you, who fought until the end. But something else worried you besides your nakamas: You hadn't seen Law for some time, and your heart feared the worst as you stood your ground, landing as many hits as you could before your body gave up on you.

Your lungs burned, and you could hear Bepo shouting your name as you knelt, your vision growing darker. As much as you pushed yourself up, your body didn't respond, but you allowed yourself to truly fall when a thin layer of blue light grew around the place, creating a dome around everyone.

You could see the concern on Law's face, desperate for arriving too late, and from that moment on, everything became a blur. Law switched places with you when he saw you about to be attacked, and the next things you saw were blood, the gleam of a blade, and then swift footsteps.

You opened your eyes some time later, being carried. "Don't move," someone warned, but you didn't want to listen.

You were disoriented as fuck.

"Where's Law?!" you heard your heart pounding in your ears.

"I'm here," he said, standing by your side. "Don't move."

Then you closed your eyes.

When you opened them again, you could see that you were back on the Polar Tang, your companions all awake, some lying down like you, others trying to help those who were more injured. They all seemed concerned about each other. You saw Law among them, bandaging Shachi's injured arm. You tried to sit up, but a weight on your chest stopped you.

You looked to the side and saw Bepo sitting, as if he was watching you. "Law asked me to keep you lying down," the bear said.

You gave him a worried look. You had seen blood, he had been hurt, and you wanted to go to him and take care of his injuries as he was doing for all of you. Law came towards you when he saw that you had finally woken up. He dismissed Bepo before sitting by your side.

"Law, you're hurt," you said, concerned. Bepo hadn't even moved away from you when you exclaimed.

"I didn't get hurt, Y/N. I'm fine," he responded promptly.

"C-Captain, are you okay?!" Bepo seemed desperate.

"I already told you, I'm fine! Don't worry about me."

Just as you admired Law's ability to sense danger, he admired your ability to perceive lies, especially his lies. That's why he looked at you, as if pleading for mercy when he said he wasn't hurt.

It was like a silent conversation. You realized that he didn't want to worry anyone else; he just wanted to make sure that everyone in the crew was okay. You nodded, closing your eyes. He knew he couldn't deceive you; he only asked that no one else worry about him.

He didn't escape your notice once everyone's spirits had calmed down.

A little while later, as everyone gathered to eat, you were pushing him into the infirmary and taking off his shirt. He had hidden the cuts with his coat because he knew they were quite visible.

You saw a huge gash on his back, starting from the shoulder and stopping around the middle of his back, dried blood on his skin, and the wound looked irritated from the friction of the coat.

"Tsk," you began to grumble. "You always take care of others but don't want anyone to take care of you," you complained as you cleaned the blood that had trickled down. His skin was warm.

"I wonder how you would have dealt with this if I wasn't here!" You gently began to clean the wound, and Law winced in pain with each touch. "Would you have asked Bepo for help?!" After spending time by his side, you had learned a few things about first aid. Your favorite part was suturing, but it wasn't as nice to do it on your lover's back.

You sutured the wound so delicately that it seemed more like a caress than a needle stitching his skin. You complained about Law's stubbornness and how he didn't want others to worry about him when he was visibly very injured.

"Raise your arms," you demanded as you wrapped bandages around him. He found it funny how irritated you seemed but at the same time took care of him so lovingly.

Law looked at you with great affection as you tended to the other injuries on his body. Cleaning and bandaging them all with great care, while giving him a good scolding about not hiding these things.

"Well, I don't know how I would have dealt with this if you weren't here," he finally said. "But I can only thank you for being so caring with me." He hugged you suddenly.

As he was sitting on the exam table, his face pressed against your chest. Your hands ran up to his neck, where you caressed him with your thumb. "Never do that again, Law. We all care about you," silence. "I care about you."

You kissed the top of his head. For some reason, your anger disappeared.

#number 1 Trafalgar D. Law fan club

#trafalgar d law #law one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d water law #law fanfic #law fluff #law x reader #law x you #one piece #zombiedumbie writing

[heartfeltcierra]

Sabo X Female Insecure Plus Sized Reader

AN-I swear I love this man so much :'). This ended up being super long and super cheesy. Thank you @seafoamxshayde for helping me edit!

Masterlist

Word Count- 6.5k

Angst to Fluff

Warnings- Alcohol consumption, insecurities, self loathing, injury and mentions of blood

Spoiler Warnings- Marineford (Mention of character death) and minor Dressrosa spoilers.

 “Y/N you need to pick something to wear soon, we don’t have much time before the banquet starts.” You turn your head over to Koala, who has been scolding you for the past half hour.

 “I don’t think I’ll go. I’m not feeling well.” Your lie was not far from the truth. You felt fine physically, but mentally not so much. 

 “I’m not buying that crap Y/N. You are a part of the revolutionary army, you can’t just skip this” Koala walked over to your closet and started rummaging through it. “You're going if I have to drag you. Not even Sabo is fighting me about going. And you know how stubborn he is.” 

 Your ears perk up hearing his name. Sabo is the reason you don’t want to go in the first place. Not that its his fault, it’s your own stupid crush on him that’s holding you back. You know if you go, you’ll end up romanticizing something that won’t happen-ultimately breaking your own heart. Silly as it may sound, you're just protecting yourself.

 “Hellloooo, earth to Y/N.” Your attention pans back to Koala who had one of your dresses held up to her small frame. “I think this one is it. It’s cute, but very professional.” You look at how gigantic the dress looks compared to her. The sight made you sick to your stomach.

 “It doesn't matter because I’m not going.” You grab the blanket on your bed and throw it over yourself. Hopefully she got the message this time.

 “Fine. I’m laying this dress out in case you change your mind.” You hear her shuffle before your doors slam shut, leaving you in the silence of your room.

 It's been about 20 minutes since Koala left and all you’ve done is stare mindlessly at the ceiling. Occasionally you would think of Sabo. “I wonder what he is wearing tonight?” “   “I bet he is wearing his fancy cologne that smells like cedar and musk.”

 “Dammit Y/N, quit thinking about him for one second.” You smack your hands against your cheeks as you scold yourself. No matter how desperately you try, the chief of staff has made a home in your head and heart with no plans of leaving.

 You want to confess, you want to pour your heart out to him. But you are all too familiar with the outcome. You think of all the times as a little girl, where you’d confess to a boy only to be laughed at or how you were treated weird for liking someone. The dehumanizing experience of being an overweight girl. 

 Even after all the heartbreaks and unrequited love you experienced in your life, you still have an annoying small glimmer of hope. No matter how many times you tell yourself he would not want you, and no matter how many times you remind yourself you're not good enough for him- you still have a chance. Sometimes it felt like putting out a fire with gasoline. Maybe you should just tell him how you feel. The sooner your heart is broken, the quicker you can start healing it. 

 Knock Knock Knock 

 “I already told you Koala, I’m not going!” You yell from your bed. She is persistent as ever. Despite your yell, the doors open anyways. “Koala?” It’s hard to tell who it is considering the time of night and lack of light in your room. You hear a few heavy steps before the door shuts back. Your breath hitches in your throat along with a sense of unease.

 “Koala, if you're trying to scare me it's not funny. Cut it out!” The steps were slow and calculated. Like a lion approaching its prey. You begin to wonder if you're really being pranked or if you were actually under attack. You squint your eyes and see an outline of a tall shadow. Considering its size, there is no way its Koala. The steps come to a halt right in front of your bed. It stood for a few moments, like it was planning something. Your body is telling you to get up and fight, but you are frozen to the bed. You could feel a shift in the room and an unfamiliar weight on the end of the bed. You feel the bed dip with every movement of the shadow. It drew closer and closer. 

  You manage to whimper out as the shadow straddles your frame . Normally this would make you feel self conscious, in this case you were so scared it did not even matter. You could feel hot breath fan over you. It’s over now, you can’t have a broken heart if you're dead... At Least the shadow smells nice. Wait. You know this smell. 

 “BOO!” A small puff of fire revealed Sabo’s face. Your strength finds you again as you sling the laughing Blonde off of you. He landed right on the floor with a small “Ow”. You jump up from the bed, and  grab the closest thing you have as a weapon. A broom.

 “Sabo you little jerk.” You hold the broom ready to fight him. His laughing fit had stopped, he was now fixated on your movements. “You scared me.” 

 “You know Y/N, you're supposed to clean up the floor after you kill me. Not the other way around.” You could only roll your eyes as he smirked. 

 “Is that so huh? Any other last words you want to say before you die then Sabo?” You stood over him jabbing the end of the broom in his handsome face.

 “Why yes I do. That gown you're wearing is very cute, but not for the banquet .” You were unaware of your circumstance until he said that. You jump back into the bed and cover yourself up. Sabo pulled his body from the floor and sat at the edge of your bed. “I guess you're sparing me from certain death. Thank you Y/N.”

 “Haven’t you teased me enough Sabo?” You pull the blanket up to your chin and glare at the man. Sabo laughed and shook his head, confirming he was done. “Good. So what are you really here for?”

 “I was heading to my room to get ready for the said banquet tonight and met Koala. She seemed pretty worked up.” Sabo crossed his arms in a dissatisfied way. “She said you refused to go. She also mentioned you seemed gloomy. Is everything okay Y/N?” 

 “I’m fine. I apologize if I caused any concerns. I honestly just needed a moment to myself.” Your eyes met your lap. You want to come right out and say it, but you can’t. The words are there, but you won’t let them leave. 

 “Okay then. It’s settled.” Sabo stood up and stretched his arms. “As the chief of staff of the revolutionary army, I order you to get dressed and accompany me to the party.” The statement sends a shockwave through your body, but at the same time you shoot him a confused look. 

 “And If I refuse?” Your body is screaming to accept his offer, but your guarded heart is telling you otherwise.

 “I’ll fire you.” You know he was joking, but it didn’t stop you from throwing a pillow in his face.  “But in all seriousness I want you to come. It will be fun, I promise.” He was making it hard to say no, his soft smile had you hook, line and sinker.

 “Okay, I’ll get ready.” Sabo seems very pleased that you agreed. His eyes then start wandering around your bedroom before they lock on to your dress.

 “Is that the dress you're wearing?” He walked up to the dress and studied the fabric between his gloves fingers. 

 “Umm- yes why?” Sabo smiled and let the dress go. Did he not like it?

 “No reason, just curious.” The look on Sabo’s face concerns but excites you. That face is the one he has when he is plotting something. “I’ll leave you to it. I need to go get ready myself. I’ll wait for you in the corridor.” He winked and walked out of the room, leaving you in shock.

 You jump to your feet and hurry over to the dress. Maybe that glimmer of hope is more than a mere glimmer. You throw your nightgown off and onto the bed. You put the dress on and smooth it over your body. The only thing missing now was some jewelry. You walk over to the box you kept your valuables in. It's mainly filled with little trinkets you find when you are on a mission. You rummage until you find exactly what you're looking for. You pull out a simple pearl necklace with matching earrings. Sabo had bought them for you when he went to fishman island sometime ago. You hold the delicate pearls with a smitten grin. Maybe this was not just a friendly gift. You clasp the necklace on and place the earrings in. After applying some make up, you head out and towards the place Sabo said he would meet you.

  As you walk towards the corridor you regret not bringing a jacket. You could see every breath that left your lips. You could only hope Sabo wasn’t far behind. You perch yourself up on a brick pillar that connects between the corridor and the banquet venue. You watch as many familiar and unfamiliar faces walk by.  Sometimes you forget how many members there are in the revolutionary army. The welcome sound of ballroom music began to fill your ears. The melody was beautiful, you could only imagine dancing and falling in love while this played in the background. You close your eyes and enjoy the music. Your eyes open when the music ends. You heard the crowd clap before it went quiet again.  With the new found silence you can hear footsteps echoing in the corridor. You see Sabo come around the corner. You could only gawk at him. He was not wearing his signature hat and his blonde hair was slick back partially. He wore a black tuxedo with a vest that matches the color of your dress. “So that’s why he asked.” His eye met yours, he seemed to be gawking at you as well. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks the closer he got. With every step he took, he captivated you more. And before you could burn the image into your head, he stood right in front of you. 

 “This looks familiar.” He reached out to grab the pearl necklace. “I knew it would look gorgeous on you.” He placed a chaste kiss on one of the pearls. The actions snatched any words from your tongue. You begin to wonder if Sabo wanted your heart to beat out of your chest and right into his hand.

 “Thank you.” You look away in hopes he doesn't catch on to your embarrassment, but the chuckle that left his lips told you it was too late.

 “We better get inside, I’m sure you're cold.” He held his arm out for you, which you gladly took.

 The venue was packed full. People were dancing,drinking and just overall having a good time. After all the hardships and battles, it's nice to have a night where everyone can relax and enjoy themselves. You notice a lot of eyes on you and Sabo as you walk further in. Some people looked happily at you, while others did not seem as thrilled. But none of that matters, right now you were happy to be by his side, even if it's just this one night.

 “Want to go dance?” Sabo leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

 “Umm, I don’t really know how.” Sabo seemed amused by your response. Most of your life has been on a battlefield, not a dance floor.

 “It’s okay, I will lead you.” His hand grabbed yours, giving a small squeeze of reassurance. You looked into his eyes, still a little hesitant. Your insecurities creeped in. Sabo would have to hold onto you in order to dance. The dance floor was filled with couples dancing. You see all the petite figures being held close, like they were made out of glass. They are so delicate compared to you. You look away from Sabo, who retaliates by grabbing your chin. “What’s going on in that pretty mind?”

 “I worry I’m not good enough.” You're not just talking about dancing. “Plus what if I trip and get hurt.”

 “Trust me when I say I’m good enough for the both of us. You know I used to be a noble, right?” Sabo grins and places a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you towards the dance floor. 

“And you're safe with me, always.” You can’t help but smile at his declaration.

 “I trust you then. Don’t disappoint me Mr. Chief of Staff.” You notice a small blush creep up on his cheeks. 

 “Trust me, I don’t plan to.” Sabo retorted. 

 “Hee Haw! I hope you are enjoying yourselves tonight!” You and Sabo turn towards the stage where Iva was speaking. They are always the life of the party.  “A party like this won’t happen again for a while so make the most of it! Drink and dance your worries away! But don’t get too crazy kids. Bye now~” Iva jumped from the stage signaling the band to start back up. 

 Sabo grabbed your left hand and guided it to his arm. After he placed it where he wanted it he held out his other hand for you to grab. Your shaky hand laces with his calmer one. You look him in his eyes as if to say “What now?”. Sabo smiled at you before leaning down.

 “Relax your body and give me control.” You nod, after a few deep breaths you  let yourself relax in Sabo’s strong hold.  “Good girl.” The pet name slid off his tongue so effortlessly. He is too suave for his own good sometimes. 

 The music filled the ballroom once more.  You and Sabo locked eyes and nodded at each other. He guided your body along with his. At first it was awkward for you, but as he swayed you around effortlessly the feeling vanished. That’s how good Sabo is. He's a smooth man with a velvet tongue. Why lie to yourself any longer, you were living out a dream with the man you've fallen for. All the pent up giddiness was starting to leak out as your lips curled into a genuine smile. You looked up at Sabo who had a smile on his face, one that made all the light in the room seem dull. You were sure of it now. Sabo liked you back. 

 The current melody ended, letting the band prepare for the next song.

 “The next song is going to be slower.” Sabo adjusted his hold on you again, one of his hands snaked around you. You fight back any negative thoughts and let yourself feel his warm touch. With his free hand he guided one of your hands so it rested on his shoulder. Happy with the placement he then grabbed your hand and laced it back with his. “One last thing, I need to be closer to me.” The hand that was wrapped around you pulled you closer to him. Your plush body was right up against him and you couldn’t be happier. 

 As Sabo said, the music was slower. It was a nice change of pace. Between the calmness of the melody and Sabo’s gentle sway, you were becoming tired. You lay your head against Sabo’s chest and close your eyes. 

 “Someone looks comfortable.” You open your eyes and pull away. You look up at him and apologize only for him to place a kiss on your forehead. He let go of your hand long enough to place your head back onto his warm chest. “Don’t apologize, I was just admiring how cute you are.” His actions and words were all the reassurance you needed.

  A new feeling bubbles in your chest. In the past falling in love was something that only brought you heartache. And you thought it would be the case with Sabo, but you are experiencing it. And it is absolutely beautiful. The music began to wind down, before coming to an end. 

 “Are you ready for a break?” You were unaware how tired you were until Sabo mentioned it. 

 “I am. If you want to go find us a table, I’ll go grab us something to drink.” You point towards the mini bar.  “Do you want anything in particular?” 

 “Not really. When you get back I have a surprise for you.” He winked before disappearing in the crowd. You could not help but wonder what the surprise could be? You shake your thoughts and navigate through the crowded room. 

  You walk up to the bartender and order two champagnes. The bartender poured the liquid into delicate glasses with ease. You grabbed the glasses and handled them with care. 

 “Is that for Koala and Sabo?” You turn around to face the voice that spoke. The woman before you had a forgettable name, but her attitude and love of Sabo was a different story. Anyone would be able to see that she only wants him for his rank and benefits. 

 “No, it's for me and Sabo. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to get back to him.” You start to walk away before she grabs your hand. You turn around and give her a nasty look.

 “I guess you haven't heard.” Her words get you curious.

 “Haven’t heard what?” The woman pulls out a cigarette and places it between her lips. The fire from her lighter came to life. 

 “I guess they were hiding it from you. Sabo and Koala are getting engaged tonight.” A puff of smoke blows in your face. Your feet are frozen to the floor at her words. “I know it broke my heart too, but I think we both knew it was going to be him and her at the end of the day. I’ll admit they make a cute couple.” She pointed over to an area. You turn and see Sabo and Koala sitting at a table talking and smiling. Your eyes fixated on them. Engaged? “I have a surprise for you” You think about what Sabo said, so that was the surprise. 

 You picture them getting married. You standing alone while Sabo wrapped the same arms that once held you around Koala as he kissed her. All of this while you watched from the sidelines. Because that’s where the fat friend belongs. Tears began to form in your eyes.

 “And If you think I’m lying, look.” The woman points to the table they are at. You notice a small jewelry box in Sabo’s hand. Koala looks at it and smiles. You turn your head away, you could not handle watching what was about to happen.  All the joy and hope that had filled you was gone in an instant. Your insecurities came crashing down again. You lost, like you always do

 “I should have known it was too good to be true.” You drink down both glasses of champagne and place them on the bar counter. “I want an entire bottle of wine please.” The bartender curled a brow before walking behind the bar.

 “Will this d-” You snatch the wine from the man's hands before letting him finish. You say a quick thank you before storming out of the venue.

 You rush outside of the venue doors clutching the bottle. The chilly night air encased you once again. You know it had to be below freezing, but it's not like anything matters anymore. You walk until you find a bench beside a fountain. You take the cork out of the wine, the pressure causes it  to shoot up into the air. You hear a small splash and see it had landed in the fountain. “I guess I need to make a wish.” 

 “I wish… I wish someone would come and love me. The same way I love Sabo.” Hot tears ran down your cold face. “Please… just once I want to know what it’s like to be loved.” You throw your head back and gulp down some of the wine. The bitter taste was more than welcome. 

 ~Meanwhile in the venue~

 “She sure is taking a while, Sabo.” Koala looked amongst the sea of people, trying to find you.

 “I agree, I’m going to go see if I can find her.” Sabo stood up and used his height to his advantage. He scanned the ballroom and saw no sign of you. “I’ll be right back.” 

 Sabo walked up to the mini bar in hopes you were there. He sadly noticed an unpleasant familiar face. He tried to avoid her attention but it was too late.

 “Well if it isn’t Sabo. You sure do look handsome tonight. But you always do~” Sabo rolled his eyes. He had politely rejected her many times before, but right now he did not have any tolerance to deal with her. 

 “Listen, I’m looking for someone.” The woman smirked before cutting Sabo off.

 “I took care of her, she won’t get in our way the rest of the night.” She winked before taking a sip of her drink. “Sabo, you deserve someone thin and beautiful. Someone like me. I don’t know what that chubby thing could offer you.” That was the last straw.

 “I’d stop talking if I were you.” The rage in Sabo’s eyes had the woman frozen in her seat. “And for your information, Y/N is way more beautiful than you could ever imagine being. I don’t even remember your name, but my sweet Y/N’s I could say it until I lost my voice. Now you tell me where she is?”

 She did not speak a word. Instead she got up and ran away with tears in her eyes. Sabo smirked, it served her right. Hell hath no fury like Sabo, especially when someone talks bad about the woman he adores. 

 “Excuse me sir, I think I know where she went. But there is something you might want to know first.” The bartender flagged Sabo down. The bartender went over the conversation between you and the other woman. Sabo was enraged after hearing the whole story. No wonder you never came back, you are probably somewhere devastated and alone. The thought of that made his stomach twist. He needed to set things right and fast. “I think I saw her go out that door over there. And one more thing you might want to know sir. She downed two glasses of champagne and took a whole bottle of wine  with her. I’m sorry, I should have never given it to her.” Sabo’s eyes shot open at his words. 

 “SHE WHAT?” 

Outside the venue

 “WooooooooWW  *hic* I feel like I’m floating. Hheehehe~” You hold the over half empty bottle of wine up. Your face was hot despite the freezing temperature outside. “I’m *Hic* gonna have a hangover for weeeeekkss after this.” 

 You know this is not changing anything. You can’t stop Sabo and Koala from getting engaged, nor would you. You needed to be happy for them. They are both amazing people, so they deserve each other. No doubt she will ask you to be a bridesmaid, and you'll fulfill your duty to the bitter end. You will never have Sabo’s heart and you have no choice but to live with it. Your lip trembles as fresh tears roll down your flush cheeks. The half empty bottle in your hands falls to the ground breaking in front of you. Sobs wracked your body as your pain and heartache became too much to handle emotionally. 

 “You're a fool Y/N.*Hic* Thinking he was going to choose you.” You somehow manage to stand up, you wobble for a moment. You feel a sharp pain in your foot as you take a step. You peer down and notice you have stepped on the broken bottle. A small piece had gone through your shoe . You wince and almost lose your balance when you pull the glass out. It thankfully did not go deep, but you were still bleeding quite a bit. 

 The faint sounds of the venue's music filled your red ears. You remember how safe and warm you felt dancing with Sabo. And now here you are not even an hour later cold, drunk and emotionally vulnerable. 

 “Y/N dear, what are you doing out here?” You spin your head to see a concerned looking Iva. 

 “I just needed to get some air, I’m okay.” You sit back down on the bench and motion for them to join you. 

 “Oh honey you’ve been crying? What’s wrong?” Those two words, that’s all it takes for you to break down again.

 “Iva..” Your voice trembles along with your body. “Why am I always the one getting left behind?” You look at Iva through tear filled eyes. “Maybe if I wasn’t so fat and flawed things would have been different. *Hic*. I hate myself so much. Every time I look in the mirror and see my imperfect body and all the stretch marks, I understand why no one would want me. I’m a monster.” 

 “Sweetie don’t say all those nasty things about yourself.” Iva places her hand on your back and rubs it circles to soothe you. “Let’s get you back inside where it is warm.” 

 “Iva I have a favor to ask?” You grab Iva’s arm before they can get up.

 “Favors later dear, you're freezing.” Iva tries to help you up, but you refuse. 

 “Iva, please listen to me.” You swallow your pride and look up to Iva with pleading eyes. “Make me beautiful and thin please. You can do that right?” Iva’s eyes widened at your request. “Please use your power on me. I don’t care if it takes a few years or even half of my life, I just want to be pretty. I want to know what it’s like to love my body.  Iva please I’m begging you. I should have asked you sooner, maybe Sabo would have chosen me instead.” You see a few tears roll down Iva’s face.  

 “Y/N, my power does not work like that. I cannot make you something you already are.” Iva hugs your shivering body. “And besides I think he already chose you dear. Isn’t that right you little eavesdropper?.” Your eyes shot open to see Sabo standing right behind Iva. Sabo started to walk closer and closer causing Iva to step away. “I’ll leave you two alone. It seems you two love birds have a lot to talk about. ” There was nothing between him and you now. Your eyes meet his for a moment, but you avert them to the ground causing Sabo to let out a long sigh.

 “Look at me Y/N.” Sabo’s gloved hand gently tilts your chin up, giving you no choice but to face him. “I heard everything, and it breaks my heart that you think that way of yourself. But when I look at you… Why don’t you feel for yourself?” Sabo placed your hand on his chest, you could feel his heart racing under your palm. 

 “Sabo I don’t understand? You and Koala are..” You feel Sabo wipe a few stray tears from your face. 

 “That was a lie, that woman was toying with you in hopes to get to me. I’ll have someone take care of her later..” Sabo had a sadistic smirk. “Now Y/N, how much did you drink? Also why is your foot bleeding?” Sabo kneeled to the ground and inspected your foot.

 “Umm, alot.” You let out a nervous laugh. “ And I accidentally stepped on a piece of glass. It doesn’t hurt tho.” You watch as sabo pulls a handkerchief from his coat pocket. He then gently wraps it around your foot.

 “Yeah I’d say it doesn't hurt considering you're wasted.” You roll your eyes at Sabo before he slips your shoe back on. “Do you have a first aid kit in your room?” 

 “I do.” Sabo stood up and held his hand out for you to grab. You hesitate for a moment before taking it.

 “Good, I’ll patch you up better when I get you back to your room.” Sabo pulled you from the bench and went to pick you up, causing you to panic. 

 “Sabo don’t. You can’t.” I'm too heavy for you." You try to step away, but yelp when you feel the pain in your foot. Sabo reached out to hold you steady.

 “Too heavy for me? You wounded my pride Y/N.” Sabo pouts, taking full offense to your comment. “I won’t force you Y/N, especially if you're not comfortable with it. I just don’t want you to walk all the way back on your hurt foot if you don’t have to. And I assure you that you are not too heavy for me. But if you don’t want me to at least grab onto me for support.” Deep down you really want to be carried by him. But you know your body type and size isn’t ideal for carrying. You look at Sabo who flexes his arms to display his strength.. You know Sabo is strong, he has the muscles and abs to prove it. You’ve watched him do crazy things that are well beyond human limits. Such as destroying a literal colosseum when you were in Dressrosa. You remember the time when he reunited with Iva after they broke out of Impel Down. He picked them up and spun around like crazy. 

 “Okay, as long as you are sure.” You watch as Sabo’s face lights up. “Just be careful.”

 “Of course. Are you ready?” You nod your head and shut your eyes tight. You feel one of his arms rest behind your back and the other one behind your knees. You felt your knees go weak, giving Sabo the chance to scoop you up into his arms. “I’ve got you princess. You can open your eyes.” Your eyes open to see Sabo smiling down at you like a dork. You couldn't help but laugh at his expression. “What's got you laughing?” Sabo started walking, causing your hand to reach up and clutch his dress shirt.

 “You just seem to be enjoying this. I won’t lie, I am too. You're so warm.” Sabo pulls you even closer to his body.

 “I am enjoying this.” Sabo spun around causing you to giggle. You don’t know if it’s the fact he was holding you so close or if it's the wine. But you feel it’s time to properly confess. 

 “Sabo, I need to tell you something.” Sabo stopped walking and peered down at you. “I’ve been In love with you for a while now. I’m sure you already know. Even though I’m very drunk and I have cried a lot- I’ve had one of the best nights of my life. It’s okay if you are unsure or don’t feel the same. I’m sorry if I made things awkward” Sabo was sporting a very serious face, causing your anxiety to skyrocket. “Umm Sabo, are you good?” 

 “Yeah, I’m fine. You are just making it really hard for me not to kiss you.” Your entire face bursts with warmth. 

 “Why don’t you then.” You grab Sabo’s tie to make him look down at you.

 “Because you're drunk darling. Once you sober up I’ll give you as many as you can handle.” Sabo continues walking with a grin on his face.

 “*Hic* Fineee.” You pout about it, but you're thankful that Sabo is such a gentleman. 

 You and Sabo reach the lobby of the RA’s living quarters. You, Sabo, Koala and a few other RA members live on the main top floor. Sabo looks at the elevator and then at the stairs.

 “Is something wrong?” You poke his chest to get his attention.  

 “Do you remember when the elevator was down for a week?” You nod your head. How could you forget, it was hell having to climb up those 40 stories. “So during that time I learnt a cool little trick.” The elevator makes a ding and opens, but Sabo ignores it and walks over to the steps.

 “Sabo? What are you doing?” Sabo didn’t speak, but the look on his face said everything you need to know. He was about to do something reckless. “Sabo what are you planning?” 

 “Hold on tight Y/N.” You watch as his lower half turns into flames. You could feel the warmth from the flames on your cold skin. “Here we go!” You felt a rush of air before realizing you were flying up the steps. You hear Sabo laughing like the maniac he is, while you on the other hand were clinging on to him for dear life, muffling a scream in his shirt. You open your eyes enough to see that you're out of the stairwell and in the hallway. Sabo is still flying with you held close. And then all at once you halt. You open your eyes and realize you are right in front of your door.

 “Umm Y/N, you're choking me.” Sabo struggles to speak thanks to your hand being wrapped tightly around his tie. You let it go letting the poor man catch his breath. “Wow, that was fun.” 

 “Yeah maybe for YOU! I’m drunk, you know.” Your hand lightly smacks his chest.

 “I’m sorry. I got a little carried away.” You couldn’t stay mad at the apologetic smile he gave you.

 “I forgive you. Now I think I’m ready for bed. I already feel the hangover creeping up on me” Sabo leaned you over so you could turn your handle, only for it to not move. “Uh oh. I think I left my key in my room. I’m locked out.” 

 “No worries, you can sleep in my room.” Sabo started walking down the hallway without a second thought.. “I have a first aid kit too, so don’t worry.” You're kinda glad you locked your key up, now you get to see what his room looks like. Sabo stops at the very last door in the hall. “This is it, my key is my vest pocket.” 

 Your hand slides into the pocket to retrieve the key. Once Sabo got you close enough you inserted the key and let the door click open. Sabo kicked the door open the rest of the way and then closed it with his foot. His room smells like clean laundry with a hint of smoke. Sabo walked you over to the king sized bed that sat in the middle of the room. You're a little jealous, being chief of staff has its perks. He gently laid you down and took your shoes off.

 “Let me get that first aid kit.” Sabo walked over to a dresser and began rummaging through it. You let your eyes wander around the room. You noticed a rack that is full of his signature top hats and some of his overcoats. But what stood out the most was his brothers wanted posters hung up above his desk.  You know all about Luffy and his late brother Ace. You smile knowing how much he loves them Your attention turns back to Sabo as he held up the first aid kit proudly. “Aa ha, found it.” 

 Sabo walked over to the bed and sat down. He picked your foot up carefully and propped it on his knee.  He opened the first aid kit and pulled out some gauze and wound cleaner. 

 “This may sting a little.” He gently cleaned your wound causing you to wince in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m almost done.” He grabbed the gauze and began to secure it around your foot. “Alright all done.” Sabo got up from the bed and covered you up with a warm blanket.

 “Thank you. For everything.” You could feel your body starting to succumb to sleep. 

 “Your welcome sweet girl. No you better get some rest. I’ve got some work I need to finish up.” You nod your head and get in a comfortable position. “Sweet dreams.” Sabo gave your forehead a quick kiss before walking over to his desk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The moment your eyes opened you could already feel your head splitting. “Note to self, never drink again.” You lift your body from the bed and inspect your surroundings. You know you're in Sabo’s room, but where is he?. You were beginning to think he  was gone to work already until you heard the loud snores coming from his desk. You got up and walked over to him, his blonde curls were ruffled and messy. The feather pen he held was still loosely clutched in his hand. You reach your hand out to wake him up and you notice something that stops your movements. On your right hand index finger was a ring. The heart shaped gem glistened with the morning sun that peaked through the window. 

 “Do you like it?” You were so enamored with the ring you failed to see Sabo wake up.

 “I love it. Sabo I'm at a loss for words.” He watches you  with a smile on his face. 

 “The gem is infused with a piece of my vivre card.” Sabo walked over to you and grabbed your hand. “Point your finger at me.”  The moment you pointed at him, the stone started to glow. “Now no matter where I am in the world, you'll always have a way to find me.” 

 “Sabo… Stop making me fall so in love with you.” Sabo didn’t say a word, instead he leaned down and pulled you into a breath snatching kiss. When you finally pull apart you're both gasping for air.

 “I could say the same to you.” Sabo pulled you into a hug, but the moment was ruined thanks to his transponder snail ringing.

 “Dammit.” Sabo growled as he picked up the transponder snail. “Sabo here.”

 “Sabo, come to my office as soon as possible.” Dragons gruff voice spoke on the other line. 

 “I'll be there right away.” Sabo hung up and let out a long sigh. “I better get going. Why don’t you take the day off to rest up.”

 “Is that a recommendation or an order?” You raise your brow to him. Sabo laughed before dragging  you back to his bed.

 “There ya go. Does that answer your question?” You nod before curling into the warm covers. “Alright I better get going. Rest up. I’ll be back before you know it.  Sabo gave you one last kiss before leaving out the door.

"I can't wait to see you light up again" You peer down at the ring. You watch as the gem sparkled for a brief moment. A content smile formed on your lips.

"I really do love you Sabo."

End

#sabo x plussized reader #sabo x y/n #sabo angst #sabo x reader #revolutionary sabo #sabo one piece #sabo fluff #one piece angst #one piece fluff #one piece x you #sabo x chubby reader #sabo x female reader #sabo #angst to comfort #angst to fluff #one piece x reader #one piece

[bubba-draws]

Hello, could I ask you for some Radiant Vessel Hollow AU stuff? What's the general lore behind that, how did those two end up as they did and just general brainrot on the idea?

Anon this is the best birthday present ever bc i've been thinking about this au for a while now AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT IT AAAA

SO pretty much the au was born from the idea of "Wouldn't it be fucked up if Hollow ended up joining Radi?" partial inspiration comes from this song as well!

(There's a bunch of subtitles in different languages but I'm going with the english one)

To summarize, after years of fighting Radi inside their mind prison, Radi changes tactics and attempts to make Hollow join her, she promises to give them all that was taken from them, the life they deserved

Hollow doesn't fall right away of course, they try to ignore her, fight her, but after years of the same dance and song they start getting tired, no matter how hard they try Radi is never fully gone when they fight, their void not strong enough to rip her apart, and being the only one with them (The dreamers are also in Hollow's mind prison, but they're not anywhere nearby these two) they can't help but lean on her company

The closest thing I could get to describe their relationship at this point is an odd sense of solidarity, in a way both of them were done wrong by the same guy, and while it does take a lot for Hollow to understand this, deep down they knew there was a bit of resentment towards PK, one that grows in intensity the more these two spend together, and it erupts when they succumb to Radi and she turns them into a vessel for her

It's kinda like what Grimm and the Nightmare heart has going on (or at least the general HC most people got) Hollow made a deal with Radi, she will lend her powers and energy to Hollow for them to call anytime they want, to go back so she can see the world through their eyes (disclaimer: not all the time btw ASHFJKAS just when its necessary/Hollow calls her) there's no cycle of rebirth or anything here though, she's also no longer limited to Hollow's mind, she can see the whole Dream Realm now

So yeah, once Hollow is used to their new powers (and body, they got some changes in appearance) they take down the dreamers, escape the black egg, their presence making the infection spread like a wildfire and take down PK :3 (WL escaped, the knights... yeah they dont make it)

There's still some ideas I gotta clean up after this point, but I talked about this with some people and got the idea that yeah, Hollow does take over Hallownest and its people, everyone is infected to some degree? makes them more agreeable to what's going on but its not enough to make them feral anymore, some of the bugs that got modifications through the infection stay like that and while still a bit volatile, they can think enough to understand things

As for their relationship??? It's odd as fuck KJHSDFJKAH there's nothing romantic, that's for sure, it is definetely more similat to a Lord and their subordinate, but theyre like??? very close?? almost familial, when there's no job to do or Hollow needs reassurance Radi becomes the closest thing to a motherly figure they could get (Even if WL loved them there was no way she couldve shown them that) but its not enough for them to call each other family

as for the game events it would completely change, Ghost would arrive to a completely different Hallownest, where everyone is happy and nice, but the more u progress the game u realize shit's fucked up, Hornet is there as well and she came back to Hallownest to seek revenge for her mother

As to what happens to the abyss and pile of dead siblings, i'm still a bit unsure, part of me thinks Hollow wouldnt want to get rid of it but part of me knows Radi wouldnt let them have it open or even go in there, while still void the light she bestowed upon them would present a threat for the shades living there

and that's most of what I got! I still need to think of other things, but if u guys got other questions or ideas I would love love LOVE to hear them!! :D

have a quick doodle of them :3

#bubba speaks #radiance vessel au #hollow knight #the hollow knight #pure vessel #bubba doods

[azu-rei]

Bandages

Kazuha x reader

A/N: This is my first post so I hope I did it well. I'm on a writing frenzy since exams are tomorrow, and I want to keep my mind away from it. Bwahahahaha!

Synopsis: Selfless and reckless, what a horrible combination. Although you wish he'd cherish himself a little more. (Patching him up after a difficult battle)

●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇●

The moon shone overhead, its gentle light an extra support to the flickering flames of the camp fire. The air around the two people in the wilderness remain silent, with one lost within his rampant thoughts, and the other busy tending to the man's wounds.

He looks downcast, you observe. After being ambushed by a horde of monsters and fighting against a number of ruin drakes, you make it out alive but not unscathed. Still, ever since then, Kazuha barely spoke which is quite unlike him. Despite suffering injuries in the past, his first course of action was always to ascertain his travelling companion's safety, but now...

You wordlessly apply ointment to the scratches and light wounds on his back before placing small plasters on it. Carefully, a cloth is wrapped around his arms first before making it's way towards his torso.

"I apologize," Kazuha's soft voice sounds out, "I was irresponsible and careless with my actions, so you ended up getting hurt. Even though you were also injured, you've been looking after me. I'm very sorry."

Your hands continue to wrap the bandage around him, acting as if he never said a word at all. He seemed to interpret that as a sign of displeasure, so he promptly turns his head away from you, preferring to gaze up at the stars instead.

Quickly tying up the last knot, you let out an audible sigh. You reach out a hand for the silver haired man's shoulder.

"I'm not mad, nor am I blaming you for what happened today. It was an accident, and everyone messes up sometimes.", you reassure as he turns his head to face you, but still refusing to meet your gaze directly

"As you can see, I'm breathing. And besides, I was also there so you shouldn't be the only one carrying responsibility for what happened"

"But-"

"You were also hurt, so I should also be saying sorry for not being careful enough. I should've been more attentive in supporting your back."

Kazuha's eyes are fixed on the ground. His next words almost self-loathing, a bit out of character from the calm and self-assured person he usually presents himself as to others.

"You're hurt because I wasn't careful. Even with all my skills, I still let you get hurt. I should be someone more reliable and-"

You interrupt his words with a hug. Any more and you're certain he would continue to find more things to criticize himself about. Gently, you pat his back, paying extra attention as to not jostle the wounds you bandaged earlier.

In the time you two have been travelling together, you've learned a great deal about the enigma that is Kaedehara Kazuha. One of them being that his gentle soul hides a great deal of past grievances. He's open to an extent, but is careful enough that his defenses don't falter easily. His past must weigh a lot for him to keep his heart out of reach. In that regard, you've chosen to believe it better not to reopen an old scar.

"You are a reliable and capable person. With you around, I can be at ease no matter where I go,", you emphasize with a subtle tightening of your hug, "That's why, I'd ask that you don't think so lowly of yourself. It might seem like the most obvious thing in the world, but please cherish yourself!"

"Please be kind and patient to yourself, just as you are to others. You have many people wishing for your happiness, so consider yourself a bit more. There's also your friends from all over Teyvat, and me, so relax because we'll be here if you ever need help"

You continue to pat his back even after releasing him from the hug. He doesn't say anything more afterwards, but you sense a change in his mood - it seems a bit lighter now.

Your words may not be enough to fully remove the doubts in himself, but you pray to the gods that it would alleviate his burdens, even if just the smallest bit.

◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇○◇

A/N: Was there too much dialogue? I'm new to this so feedback would be appreciated. I also didn't know how to end it, but hopefully it doesn't sound too rushed. Thank you for reading!! <33

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha

[ma1dmer]

Final Fantasy - Aymeric De Borel NSFW

i haven't touched the game in so long, but that doesn't stop me

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): he cleans you up and orders for a warm bath to be started for the both of you, he'll help you wash up and kiss you ,thanking you for the experience

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): thighs, this man is positively enamoured with your legs and especially your thighs, the soft mostly unmarked skin, he’s always keeping a gentle hand over your knee when you are sitting close together, and when he is feeling particularly bold he trails it up to simply swipe gentle circles on the inside of your thigh, innocently of course

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): doesn't like the mess or if there is one, the risk, of bringing a heir in the world right now, too much going on to even consider that

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he likes a bit of manhandling, wants someone to take control briefly off of his hands, wants you to want him so strongly it clouds your senses, to push him against a wall before crushing your lips on his, teeth and tongue ,he wants you to tell him how you want him, what he has to do to please you , order him around, pull his hair and he is yours

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): very very little, some very awkward halfway fumblings in the past that went nowhere, and then he got too busy and simply had no time or will to pursue anyone or anything

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): simple yet effective, missionary and riding him

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he keeps a generally light attitude but does like things to be emotionally charged , he wants your eyes on him, and he'll kiss all your laughs and smiles ,smiling against your lips himself before sighing in pleasure

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): he shaves, keeps everything nice and smooth, its just easier than having to trim all the time, he always smells nice, if he knows you are meeting up he always prepares, even if you don't end up doing anything

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): very romantic, he'll have a fancy dinner under the moonlight prepared, take you out for a stroll ,pick roses for you and then offer fancy wine ,the anticipation slowly building between you two as you flirt back and forth over the night, is foreplay on its own, no matter if its your first time or you've been married for the past 50 years he always acts as if its your first date and he's just now trying to woo you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): he doesn't indulge himself nearly enough, but loves the idea of you helping him out, your hand gripping him as you mouth at his throat and tell him how much you love him, he gets these sort of random thoughts that have him frustrated and unable to focus on his tasks

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): he is relatively vanilla in this aspect, nothing that really stands out, except perhaps a bit of roleplaying

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): your bedrooms, he needs his privacy and to have his head clear of worries about being caught being improper

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): using any sort of authoritive tone, when you defend yourself, or when speaking to someone of status or when you get angry or just anything like that, it makes his heart and belly make a little swoop and he can’t help but be a bit distracted the rest of the day 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): anything in public , the idea of getting caught is mortifying especially considering his status 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): he lives to serve you, from your ankles up to your knees, up your thighs, he’ll tell you to lay back and describes in detail what you do to him , how you make him feel and how he wishes to kiss the ground you walk on

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Slow and sensual ,he takes his time with you, unwrapping and savouring you like a gift

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): he might say no initially but he is easy to persuade , likes the game of you coming to seek him out, but its more likely that he’ll send you off with promises of later 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): his status doesn't really allow for anything too risky, even if you manage to convince him to try something a bit out of the ordinary, he has to be prepared for the worst outcome so you usually plan things days in advance

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): it really all depends for how long were you teasing each other and if it was planned or not

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): he does not feel particularly strongly for or against them, whatever pleases you, but would love for you to tell him what you do to get yourself off when he isn't there, were you thinking of him perhaps?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he absolutely is a tease, he is playful when he is comfortable with you, likes to come up behind you and whisper what he wants to do to you or what you can do to him later before walking away to return to his work

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): he mumbles a lot, pet names and professions of love and he does moan, breathlessly when he gets close to cumming, he would feel ashamed if he knew exactly how loud he gets when you two are alone

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): he has quite a vivid imagination and he often thinks of ways he’d like to have you as he plans your next dates, things almost never play out the way he plans them to but he doesn’t really mind as long as you are both happy in the end

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): he is pretty everywhere, average, a bit on the longer and thinner side and it curves nicely

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): he is very good at keeping his urges under control,  on top of that he barely has the time to rest properly with his position, let alone remember to get horny

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he needs to be dragged to bed, you need to personally come and pry him off his work and even then he makes it very difficult with his polite words and affectionate terms, telling you he'll be with you shortly and placating your worries with a smile and a soft darling, stand strong and drag him to bed

#aymeric #aymeric smut #aymeric x reader #aymeric de borel #aymeric de borel x reader #aymeric de borel smut #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy smut #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy xiv smut #final fantasy xiv x reader #ffxiv x reader #ffxiv smut

[raccoonfallsharder]

so @thirteens-lucky-tardis had a lovely headcanon about Rocket just absolutely entranced by lava lamps. And I love it and it made me think like, take a moment to just breathe, or relax for a second or something? Just sit here and look at this frickin’ lamp thing. Idk it was such a nice visual I thought I’d bring it up to you ☺️

i went hunting for this but couldn't find it! i need to read it o(╥﹏╥)o

it makes complete sense. i'm just imagining you notice how much he likes yours - maybe you come home one day and you can't find him. he's normally clanking around with some invention or another - dismantling your toaster or building a new gun. muttering to himself, or humming one of those old songs. but today your apartment is silent, and if it weren't for the runabout still parked on the roof like a goddamn sleigh, you'd think he'd gone right back up into the stars.

you find him in your room, staring at the lava lamp that he must've turned on at some point. he's transfixed. it's the first time you've seen him still and quiet in your entire time of knowing him.

"are you okay?" you ask him cautiously.

he doesn't look away - just reaches out with one clawed hand and beckons you. "here-" he says, gesturing for you to come over. "-get over here. look at this weird frickin' thing."

a little chuckle huffs its way up out of your lungs, a breath like the beat of a small bird's wing. you come and perch next to him on the bed. i like to think you both lose time like this: breath slowing, hearts slowing, eyes growing heavy. At some point, he shifts and curls into a ball next to you, a compact bundle of fur pressing warmth into your thigh and flank. He rests his chin on your knee, eyes following the soft floats of wax, reflecting the slow-moving light.

i imagine you both end up dozing off, actually. much-needed naps for the two of you.

of course rocket remains entranced in the coming days and eventually - maybe for winter holidays, or as a parting gift - you give him a package to take with him back to knowhere. two lava lamps: one to keep, you tell him, and one to take apart.

i imagine he comes back to visit you often. you're basically best frickin friends - how could he stay away? no matter how much he hates this rotten mudball, you're here, and that makes it a little bit of a home. on one visit - months later; maybe a year - he finally convinces you to join him. he's still trying to get you to move permanently out to knowhere so you can hang out whenever he's not, like, saving the galaxy - but for now, he just wants you to see how it is. a little vacation, he tells you.

he's sure you'll fall in love.

and you do. the streets, the people, the life. cosmo and kraglin and nebula. drax and the kids. yaro root is surprisingly delicious, and they put it in everything. the streets are built on music. string-lights spangle the streets when the artificial sun sets, and the milky fizzes are way more delicious than they'd sounded when rocket had described them.

and those aren't even the best parts.

the best part is when you head in to rocket's place later that night, after meeting everyone and sharing food and playing card games and listening to music and talking for the majority of the night. though rocket has a few other places he think you might like to actually live if he's successful in persuading you to stay, he'd planned on you crashing at his place for the duration of your visit. you both stumble in the shadowy doors - a little buzzy out of pure exhaustion and happiness.

and then he turns on the lights.

rocket doesn't think about it - doesn't even realize he hadn't already told you about it. but the dark room slowly blooms into a soft, moon-pale glow, all the light emanating from dozens on dozens of smooth, luminous columns.

rocket's whole apartment is jeweled with lava lamps.

they're set into shelves lining the space above his workbench. there's a massive pillar of soft light shining next to his bed - his real bed, mattress and everything, because he knew you were comin' and though he'd never say it, your comfort is important to him. there are lamps set into the walls, into the corners. a hundred strange, alien light-forms, plucked from planet earth like flowers and improved: made safer, made softer, made more hypnotic and soothing.

inadvertently, from millions of lightyears away, you've touched this place. you've helped turn his shell of a living space into a home for him - into a haven.

a soft bed.

blankets and pillows.

the beautiful living light of countless shimmering columns, welcoming him into something close to peacefulness, something close to rest.

the two of you stay up late that night: sprawled on the soft, cozy mattress, bundled up in blankets. talking, warming the air with your words and your breaths and your quiet laughs. you both watch the shifting shadows on the walls and the swimming shapes of the wax, as slow-moving as moon-jellies, and just as lovely. your eyelashes and his both grow heavier and heavier, softer and softer, until they rest, finally, feather-light on your cheeks.

and eventually, wrapped in these plush shadows and quilts and the quiet glow, you both fall asleep.

#rfh fluff #rfh asks #chippybritt #my love #rfh headcanons #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon fanfiction

[krispdreemurr]

I'm not sure if you're still doing fic requests, but maybe you could write one about Kris meeting (or experiencing might be a better term) Gaster? I can only imagine the properties of a man who exists both beyond and interweaved into the fabric of reality would also bend reality itself. I wanna know how messed up it would feel to be in proximity to this guy. Like a warning aura.

[i've done first meetings a few times before so this is a second one lol, hope that's ok]

The first thing they notice is always the words.

IT HAS BEEN

SOME TIME.

He doesn't speak. There is little sound here; the distant howl of wind, the pulse of their own heart. His words cut through that all and leave behind a silence deeper than is possible, a silence that their brain struggles to fill back up with noise, with words, with anything at all but the aching empty spaces.

They open their eyes.

They're standing on level ground in the dark. They have to remind themselves of that, because somehow they feel a sick lurch in their stomach like the ground has given out under them, like the wind is rushing past them, like they're falling on and on without end--

They're standing.

He's facing them.

Bone white against black, a shape defined by cracks and emptiness. Hands - more than make sense, more than they can keep track of. Eyes. A smile.

He was smiling the last time, too.

Their heart pounds in their chest, setting its own time, and they want to turn and run but they know the ground would give out, they know there is nowhere, there cannot be anywhere, they are lost they are gone they are drowning falling falling forever forever forever forever forever

One of the hands lands on their shoulder. It's shockingly cold, and it is burning hot, and it is burning bleeding melting dying, and they yelp and pull away.

"Don't," they hiss.

APOLOGIES

BUT THIS MATTER IS CRITICAL

I REQUIRE YOUR ATTENTION.

"I don't care about--" They shake their head, force themself to step closer on shaking legs. They can feel nothing beneath their feet, sharp and solid. "You've... Where's Dess?"

A pause.

With a thunderous crack that makes no sound at all, the smile splits wider.

YOU ARE TRULY

TRULY

CARING.

SHE IS SAFE. SHE IS PROTECTED.

ESCAPED FROM THE GAZE OF THE ANGEL

Another hand outstretches. It is lightyears away. It is directly in front of them.

WHICH IS WHAT I ALSO

OFFER TO YOU.

They stare for a moment, then manage a bare, "What?"

The shape--the man--straightens. Fingers tap aimlessly on dark air, with sharp clinks coming with each motion.

THERE IS A STORY YOU ARE CALLED TO SERVE.

THERE IS A ROLE YOU ARE CALLED TO FILL.

YOU CANNOT FILL IT.

He looks at them for a moment, cold light shining in broken eyes, and his gaze smells like bone and rust and feels like something cutting through their chest.

THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT. YOU ARE AN EXCELLENT CHILD.

THIS IS JUST SOMETHING YOU CANNOT DO.

I SOUGHT TO ASSIST YOU

AND HAVE BEEN TRYING TO ACCUSTOM YOU

BUT IT IS CLEAR MY AID

IS UNWELCOME.

They remember. Finding themself at the bunker again and again, with only dazed half-there memories. People remembering conversations they'd never had. Hours, days, weeks slipping into a gray haze.

The growing weight on their chest, until one night they'd awoken and caught hold and pulled--

Their hand goes to their chest now. Feels a hole cut through, leeching away warmth. Feels something damp and clinging, blood through their fingers. Feels an alien pulse. Feels something that burns them. Feels everything and nothing at all.

"Why me?" they mumble.

BECAUSE IN A WORLD THAT WAS NOT

AND NOW WILL NOT BE

I WAS A FOOL.

They're back in the dark of the bunker, watching with wide eyes as hands in the dark grip the hilt of a blade and tell them to watch closely, because this is something only they can do, and--

They're dressed in armor they've never seen before, blue and silver, his hand firm and real on their shoulder as he gestures at the sky and talks about reaching to heaven, and--

They're holding out their hand, offering mercy, forgiveness, trust, and his own hand pushes it away and he drives a blade into the earth and nothing pours out and nothing happens and nothing and nothing and nothing and--

They shake their head, trying to clear out memories, to sort out what fits in their head and what is something alien to them.

I CANNOT CHANGE THE PATH.

THE KNIGHT

GIFTED KNOWLEDGE OF THE DARK

WILL OPEN THE FOUNTAINS

SEEKING FREEDOM

SEEKING ESCAPE.

THIS IS SET.

BUT.

YOU CANNOT BE THE KNIGHT.

"Because I'm a failure?" they croak, too overwhelmed to try and hide the truth.

BECAUSE YOU ARE KIND.

He gestures with many hands, and--

There's a window, or a door, or a warp in space, or they have been somewhere else all along. There's a body wrapped in gray, floating empty, hair shifting lengths, face missingabsentgonelost. There's more of those soundless words, but they're not meant for Kris, and they cannot make sense of them.

COME WITH ME

I WILL KEEP YOU SAFE IN THE DARK

FOR A TIME.

ANOTHER WILL CARRY THE BURDEN YOU CANNOT.

AND YOU WILL RETURN SAFE AND WELL.

They hesitate, looking at the stark white shape of the hand. It holds itself steady, a fixed point against the ever-falling ever-rising dark.

They don't want to.

But--

But they know. If there's a need for a hero. For someone who can save the world. It can't be them. Not Kris, tired lonely Kris messaging a brother who won't answer again and again, passing through the days in silence. Not Kris, who no one has even noticed as they slowly vanished.

Maybe it would be better to be gone.

Just for a little while, after all.

They're so afraid. They hate it here. They hate the man and his promises and his demands and his conviction that everything is set for them. They hate the dark and the way it clings to them and drips down them and weighs down their feet without touching them at all. They want to wake up tomorrow and eat breakfast with their mom and go to school like normal and live their life like normal and just keep on through the endless days and pretend.

But in the end--

They're so tired.

They reach across the distance, preparing to grab hold

and that's when red light cuts through the world blade-sharp and someone is yelling something at them in a voice they can almost hear and they feel something hooked in their chest snag taut like the other end has caught hold of something far distant and the man reaches across the infinite distance between them but they are

rising

rising

rising

"Kris!"

Something opens their eyes.

#krisp fic #this is probably the most detailed layout ive done of a LOT of my headcanons

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey, I wanted to go to HC for a friendship between MC and Jumin. I could imagine it being fun to be friends with someone like Jumin :)

Jumin is the kind of person you want to be friends with without a doubt.

He values communication more than anything and if you want to have a conversation with somebody about anything and everything that you could possibly think of? That is the man you want to speak to. He will talk for hours and hours and hours and nothing will get in the way of that.

Being his friend means that you get to see a side of him that nobody else gets to see. It means you get to see him being his genuine self. Somebody who loves to enjoy things that people don't expect. He'll tell you about magic and the supernatural because that is something near and dear to his heart that he doesn't talk to anybody about, even the other members of the RFA don't know everything he's all excited about.

Being close to him is allowing yourself the opportunity to know what it looks like to see somebody's eyes light up for the first time after seeing somebody engage with something they love. Don't think that he won't return the same luxury to you. After all, Jumin is someone who wants to learn about the rest of the world, no matter what it is, and whatever you're passionate about, share it with him. He wants to know anything and everything there is to know. 

Long, late-night conversations are what you get with him. It's the way he's always shared friendship with those closest to him. Jihyun knows those conversations well. In the best outcome, you'll find him there alongside the two of you, talking about anything that comes to mind.

Because, in the happiest ending, in the best world, you get to see a long-lasting friendship continue despite the odds and that's poetic in its own way. Seeing the two of them talk will draw you in like nothing else, and they make every point to make sure you're involved with the conversation. Nobody gets talked over. It's kind of cheesy, but that's life with Jumin as a friend. He loves to have his friends over to talk as much as possible—to catch up on everything so no details are lost to time.

His sense of humor is like nothing else. Once you get to know him intimately, you start to realize just how hilarious he can be in the middle of a conversation. In fact, most of the time, nobody notices that he is telling a joke because he can be straightforward and deadpan. It's to his benefit because that makes his jokes that much more hilarious, as he knows how to deliver his humor in such a way that it hits with the right audience.

Once you see him for who he is, you'll wonder why anybody ever thought he could be a robot with how much humanity and humor lives in his mind. 

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #mysticmessenger #mm #jumin han #han jumin #character analysis