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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months

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In The Book Stacks

A/N: This ones fo my 1(one) Ezra lover. Sorry for any typos! link to Part 1.

CW: making out in the library, possessive behavior, forceful behavior (Ezra holding reader captive temporarily)

Word Count:1900

“You're really stubborn, you know that.”

Dust poofed into the air as you slammed the book in your hands shut, your nose scrunching at the stench of mustiness.

“No one’s in a library at 8 pm on a friday,” Ezra lowered his voice to a whisper. “C’mon, right here.. Right here is perfect.” He planted a kiss to your nape hairline, softly pulling at your elbows from behind. “Who goes to the science-y section anymore, anyway.”

He kept trying to convince you with that slightly heightened tone, leg pushing between your knees as he trapped you between the bookshelf and him. You were starting to get annoyed, the shadow and humid warmth of his impatient body hovering only inches above you.

“I swear if you don’t stop breathing down my neck, getting caught will be the last thing you worry about.”

Ezra was unperturbed, giving a little laugh at how pissed off you sounded. What was so wrong about wanting to give a little love to his fiance in the library? Well- soon to be fiance, you didn’t know that part yet. Just give it a few months. Specifically, the May you graduate.

“Ooh, look who’s in a feisty mood. Are you scared of a little audience? Of our love… being witnessed.” He pecked at your shoulder, tickling fingers grabbing at your sides to make you squirm.

You put a book you had taken out back in the hole that it had left, shimming closer to the shelf and farther away from your boyfriend’s antics.

“No; I’d just never do something so abWHORant, especially not when I know you, would make an even bigger scene if one of the librarians caught us.” You rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated goan; he was beginning to tick you off. “What am I even saying? See, you got me distracted again.”

“A little distraction never hurt nobody,” He swayed, pressing into your lower back with his thumbs, massaging the edges of your tailbone that he knew was probably aching from how much standing and searching you've done in the library already. Nobody who didn’t have a chem test tomorrow! you thought. ”Besides, aren’t you tired of searching for this book? We’ve looked in every isle…twice.”

You didn’t correct him for the intimate touch at first, finding it soothing and seemingly without the devious agenda he was proposing. But that touch soon moved to a caress, grabbing the sides of your hips, pressing them forward as his midriff touched your back.

“Books plural,” You sighed, sounding more defeated. “Maybe we should just go home; I shouldn’t have made the mistake of letting you come with me.”

Ezra was like a reward you’re supposed to enjoy AFTER doing an important task; you can’t have a reward in the same room with you though, otherwise all you think about is how needily it tempts you.

“I’ve accompanied you back and forth during this search, don’t you think I deserve a little bit of your time?” Ezra impatiently jabbed, grabbing your hand that was about to pluck another book. You yanked your arm away and pulled out a flimsy textbook off the shelf with it, refusing to acknowledge the tall, desperate creature beside you.

However, it was hard not to regret the harshness of your rejection as soon as you felt the sinking daggers of Ezra’s eyes.“ You know what--No. I’m sick of this. You’ve looked enough for tonight.”

The book was forced out of your hand and hit the floor with a dust-clouded thud, the sound scaring you with its echo bursting around the entire library. It skidded a few feet away from you as a sweetly warm palm concealed your mouth.

You were ripped backwards into a sturdy body, far warmer than the 69° library air brushing down your shoulders and bare knees. About to flail and hit your way free, a pair of bottom-heavy lips touched your cheek to stop you.

“I got off work early--ngh, walked with you all the way here,” Ezra wrapped around you, a squeezing snake intent on suffocating its prey. “And paid for your damn fancy coffee. And you won’t give me so much as a middle school kiss?”

Ezra looked down at you as your head jerked up, his heavy hand nearly blocking your nostrils as you rapidly huffed through them. What was he… going to do? You weren’t particularly afraid, even with his hand covering your mouth as if you were a hostage he was about to violate. But a thought in the back of your mind was scaring you; any sane person wouldn’t act as if they were going to suffocate you just for something so small as refusing to makeout in the library.

Ezra’s clean scent had been watered down by the day’s heaviness, his heavy exhales against your throat making you wonder if he was having some kind of episode. You would’ve elbowed him off if it weren’t for the other arm wrapped completely around your front sight, the anaconda’s tail keeping you pressed flush against its alluring body.

You liked that he took charge, that he held your hand with purpose and dragged you to come dance at parties. But this… should you have expected it, since he practically controlled every other physical movement of affection in your relationship? …But who in their right mind would expect their boyfriend to rip them close so violently?

A pained sound left his mouth as it held open, tongue so hesitantly resting against your lower neck, near your shoulder. It twitched, Ezra seemingly unsure of himself in enacting the obscene display. But by the soft shut of his eyes, the arch of his eyebrows in ecstasy-- you wondered if that was really hesitation, or perhaps a poor attempt to snuff his desperation.

‘Maybe he's savoring your last moments before choking you out.’ That extreme, but maybe-not-entirely-wrong intrusive thought murmured inside you.

His hand shivered as it stroked your cheek, pulsing against your shut mouth. The other thumbing your forearm as it crushed against your body in his grip, keeping it close as you stood stiff as a board.

A high-pitched groan left your covered mouth, whining to be released as you could hear a hoarse cough of some librarian or fellow stressed student from the other side of the bookcase. You pleaded with Ezra with your eyes, tugging harshly on his thick coat for him to let you go.

“stay, quiet..” He mumbled, pressing a finger to his wet lips.

Slowly, his palm raised from your lips as he watched you for any sudden moves.

Taking a deep breath and a pissed punch at his arm, you turned around to face him.

“That's what I should be saying!” You scream-whisperered. “We're in public and you're acting like a child who can't gotta toy he wants-- I'm not your mommy-!”

“Shh!” A voice from the opposite side of the book case ushered.

Ezra grabbed your beating hands, pulling your wrists tight to his chest as you tried to pound against him.

He seemed to grow small by shrinking down towards you, pulling your softening hands upward. He stared up so earnestly, like he hadn’t just licked a feverish stripe down your neck with a desire sp hungry that he didn’t consider your wellbeing.

“Sweethearttt,” Ezra leaned down with a whine, his sweetly soft eyes melting him slowly back to what he was before he tried to suffocate you. “I just want to be yours. Just want to kiss you and keep you…close.”

You swallowed looking at him, bending lower than you to get up close from below, nose nearly touching yours as he leaned up. Who was this overly needy person that replaced your already clingy boyfriend? He was acting more impatient than usual.

Your frustration melted a little on the outside, your curiosity more potent now that you could sense something was off.

“You’re being unusually obsessed today. Why do you need my attention so badly?”

You swore you saw Ezra’s face drop, mouth fixed into a plain thin line before it was gone in an instant.

“Why don’t you kiss me and I’ll tell you?” he grinned, bringing your hands up to his ears, burying them into his hair.

He circled you back to what he wanted again, nuzzling your nose as he waited for your move. He could kiss you, could relish in your skin and smell right here and now with your mouth too preoccupied to scream. But that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Prove that you love me too. I do so much for you, stay here with you, take care of everyone else for you… can’t you just show that you love me in return?”

His bright eyes crinkled, losing their shine as the grip pressing your fingers into his hair suddenly began to feel like handcuffs. Yet his face never wavered, staring into your eyes as he waited for your move. This was a test; he wanted to love you, but above all he needed to know there weren’t any… Threats. Whether that be your own weak mind or another man.

“Wha-,” Your mouth hung open, wondering with surprise where this trial was coming from. Did he see you do something and consider it a betrayal? “I..”

The usual Ezra would gaze back and forth evidently between your eyes and lips, a cute grin decorating his uncannily symmetrical face as he leaned in to kiss you. Now, he was a stoic void that waited emptily, expectantly.

You scoffed, feeling more ridiculous than when you circled this book aisle. “Fine… if it’s that big of a deal.”

Your untroubled tone tried to brush it off, but you weren’t fooling either of you.

It didn’t take much further to close the gap, pressing gently against Ezra’s stiff mouth as he kept your wrists tight against him. Well, if you were going to convince him, you couldn’t keep feeling like a prisoner in his hold. You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, running your hands down to his neck despite his chokehold trying to keep you still. He eventually let go, however not without rough hesitation.

You felt like you were pecking at a statue, the warm aroma of his skin entering your nose as you pressed your face flush against his, tongue licking at his bottom lip with each kiss you tried to convince him with.

Ezra softened, just the teensiest bit, unable to ignore the sensation of your warm fingers on his jugular, moving to wrap each arm around his neck as you leaned against his broad nose. A slightly satisfied, indulgent groan left him. He felt like a teenager again, making out in the library with his hands flush against the bare skin of your back beneath your jacket and sweater, fantasizing about the curve of your spine and how your inner thighs would taste.

He melted, opening his mouth for you and kissing back with the fervor of a long distance lover you hadn’t seen in ages. But in reality, you had just had this same needy kissing session last night, much to Ezra’s pushing. He just wanted to convey how much he loved you, how special you were, to never let you feel inadequate or have the need to run to anyone else ever again.

“Is that..enough.. To convince you--” You tried to speak between his kisses, cut off each time with a wet peck against the corner of your lips.

The annoyed clearing of a woman’s throat came from uncomfortably close, foot tapping on the ground as the librarian waited for you two to finish.

#yandere #male yandere #self insert #reader insert #writing #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #library #reader #x you #x reader insert #yandere reader insert #reader imagine #reader x character #reader aesthetic

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st-juliet · 1 year

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Prompt because your work is aMAZing: when it’s before Sherlock and y/n’s wedding day, and he’s being an insufferable gentleman but she bats her eyes going “do you not want me” and he absolutely loses it 😏😏

Your Only Warning

Character: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes

Summary: Alone in the library with his betrothed, the Reader, Sherlock fights to remain a gentleman…with limited success.

Content: 18+ for incredibly filthy language, explicit description of future sexual intimacy, dominant, angsty “I AM A GENTLEMAN” Sherlock, with a side of mild “look what you’ve made me do” rhetoric from our dear detective, but for the benefit of the very eagerly consenting Reader who absolutely intended to make him do precisely what he’s done.

Notes: Thank you so much for the prompt; I loved it, and hope you like the story, Anon!

It is a rare occasion that your future husband allows you to be alone with him.

Ever the gentleman, ever possessed by the fine arts of propriety, justice, compassion, and self-discipline…all the qualities for which you find yourself more deeply in love by the day…Sherlock has become increasingly distracted, sometimes even dismissive, of your endeavors to cultivate closeness, as the day of your wedding draws near. You do not know what precisely has caused his detachment; never once has he expressed any regret for his proposal, nor suggested he does not wish to proceed with the marriage, but something has changed.

You cannot recall the last time he was tender—if ever he truly was. No soft words, nothing of your beauty, certainly, rise to your memory, even as you entertain the recollections of shared laughter, discussions of books or music, your eager interest in his cases and his equal enthusiasm to share his work with you. Meanwhile, you long to pour out your heart on the subject of his handsome face, his gorgeous eyes, how much you long for his touch, his kiss, his…

Well.

Sherlock’s true feelings for you are a mystery that only he could solve, and finding the time alone to ask him to unravel his secrets has been nigh impossible. But tonight, at another interminable dinner party for your family and his, a challenge from Enola to discover the secret passages of the Holmes estate has led you to the library, opening a hidden door behind a bookshelf to your delight…and the surprise of Sherlock, whom you discover pensively staring out the wide window behind his desk. He looks back over his shoulder, slightly startled, but smiles when he recognizes your familiar form emerging from the shadows.

“Very well done, Miss —,” he praises you, and your heart flutters happily at the accolade. “My sister will be most pleased to have such a companion as yourself with whom to roam these halls. When we can coax her back home, that is.”

“I hope you will find me a fine companion, too,” you offer, stepping out from the passageway and into the library proper. You look about you: no one else is there. Good.

“Naturally,” he replies, leaving the sanctuary of his desk, but still keeping a polite distance. “It will be entirely pleasant to share a home with you, here or in London. I have too long breakfasted alone, beginning the day in sullen silence, only to let supper grow cold, too, for want of more companionable nourishment.”

“Yes, I quite look forward to that, too,” you reply politely, a few tears of disappointment pooling in the corners of your eyes. His once ardent interest truly does seem to have waned into a wish for company over meals. Still, your hope preservers; perhaps this is only a gentlemanly demurring from more intimate matters? You have had some success in delving into his captivating mind. What line of inquiry might unlock his heart?

“And you must never hesitate to make use of this library.”

“Thank you. But…Mr. Holmes…”

“Yes?”

“I mean…certainly we shall share other…other rooms, too?”

“Of course. You must be honest with me in the correction of my bachelor habits.”

“Yes, and you must similarly address the conventions of my customary solitude.”

These mirrored platitudes are maddening. You steel your courage and make a bolder proposition.

“But is it not true that, as is only proper, to my understanding, that when we marry, we will be…as one?”

At this, he meets your eyes for a brief, flickering moment, then turns away from you entirely, and begins to meticulously examine the books on the shelves, uttering a monosyllabic: “Ah.”

You wait.

And wait.

At long last, he clears his throat slightly and says, “I hope that if you should have any concerns of that nature, you might seek out the counsel of a recently married woman of your own age—Mrs. Watson, for example, is a lady of faultless virtue and excellent education, and might allay your fears—“

“I have no fears!” you exclaim. “I have…great anticipation. Longing, for a closeness I thought you equally desired. Sherlock, please I long to know and be known as a wife, to share with you every facet of my life, including—my…our—“

“Please, Miss —“

“But of late you scarcely look at me—“

“Dear girl,” he interrupts again. “I beg you to cease this line of inquiry!”

Your frustration bubbles over. Determinedly, you cross the room to where he stands, and slip around his hulking frame, insinuating yourself betwixt him and the bookcase, demanding his attention whether he will or no.

“What is it, Sherlock?” you ask, gazing up at him through your eyelashes, feeling your pulse quicken at his nearness. “Do you not want me?”

“Do I,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Not want you?”

In an instant, he has you restrained against the bookshelves, one hand pinned above your head and the other left to grasp frantically at his lapel, feeling the hard muscle and pounding heart beneath his fine coat, like an ember burning beneath your fingertips.

“Every moment I am plagued with wanting you! Do you not understand why I have withdrawn from you, why I must keep my distance from the woman I love?”

Sherlock lays his palm against your cheek, then slides his fingers down your neck, across your collarbones, coming to rest against the heaving swell of your breast over your gown.

“This is why. To prevent this.”

Hands over hearts, you are more closely entwined than you have ever been, and you can see with perfect clarity that his eyes burn with deep, profound emotion as well as increasingly unbridled yearning. Pinioned there by his full weight and bulk, you are completely helpless to his whims, and nothing has ever felt so freeing in your entire life. Finally, finally, finally, you exalt in your mind, and you sigh his name, unable to suppress a slight moan, which only seems to afflict him further.

“Oh, Sherlock…”

“I am a gentleman of unimpeachable conduct, but you would turn me into a brute. The more time I spend in your presence, the closer the day draws near when you will be mine, the more I find my resolve tested,” he despairs, drawing in a deep breath, and shuddering as the scent of your hair, your skin, permeates his senses. “Look at us, look what you have done! All this time I have resisted, but you undo it in a mere minute…”

His lips are practically touching yours, his grip on your wrist grown tighter, the press of his unmistakable hardness against you firm and unyielding.

“This,” he explains, his voice gone ragged and low. “Is your only warning, my dear sweet bride. If you speak another word of wanting before I may lawfully, licitly show you every way a man may possess his wife, if you touch me—or, or, you perfect minx, my gorgeous tormentor, if you with all your whiles force my hand…if you insist I kiss your glove in public, or ask for my arm to cross the street…I will make you pay for it the minute we are wed. I will turn you over my knee and spank your backside bruised. I will have you in every room of the house; damn who might see us. I will hunt you down across the estate and take you in the fields or the forest like an animal, for so you make me, darling. I will bind your hands to my bed and make you come for me over and over again until you have not a single thought left in this brilliant little mind, and then I will fuck your pretty weeping cunt until I’m sated and you are dripping with my seed. And that for a start.”

Sherlock, eyes glittering with his barely leashed lust, presses a light, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Are we understood, Miss —?”

“Yes, yes,” you gasp, and, with the final indulgence of skimming the pad of his thumb across your trembling bottom lip, he very gently, courteously releases you, and then promptly flees to the opposite side of the room to pour himself a substantial drink. He downs it in one gulp, then takes several very deep breaths, and though he keeps his back to you, you can tell, with a secret thrill down your spine, that he is adjusting his clothes in a futile attempt to disguise his arousal.

“You were best return to the drawing room at once,” he instructs, almost bashful at his body’s insistence against his mind’s prudence. It is incredibly endearing. “I must compose myself.”

“Of course. Forgive me, sir, that I have discomposed you so.”

“No, no, it is I who must apologize. Can you forgive me, dearest girl, that I have not made clear to you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen? I was never a man of sentiment until now, and feared that to linger too long on the object of my desire, might make me lose all control. But I will tell you every day, ten times a day—from now until the end of my life, that your loveliness of body and soul is to me as vital as the air I breathe.”

“Are you becoming a poet, Sherlock?” you tease, melting all the more at his rush of tenderness, so looked for and longed for.

“Only for you,” he sighs, and you almost faint away as his hand drops to palm the outline of his cock through his trousers. Realizing the nature of his reflexive gesture, he gives a frustrated groan and points at you accusingly. “Only a romantic fool, and only a devious, seducing scoundrel, because of you.”

You laugh together, and, sneaking one last fervent look over your shoulder as he sinks into his chair and begins to unfasten his trousers, you close the door behind you depart, practically skipping through the halls of the home that will soon be yours, too, to rejoin both sides of the family in the parlor.

About ten minutes later, Sherlock rejoins the party, too, and no one seems to suspect anything untoward, clearly a relief to you both as your eyes meet across the table with a shared, secret glow. Once all parting pleasantries are exchanged, Sherlock follows you and your family out to the carriage, keeping a painfully respectful distance all the while. He offers only a formal bow and a stern, “Good evening” by means of farewell, but you have other designs.

“Good evening to you, too, Mr. Holmes,” you reply with a cheerful smile, and then, in front of the whole company, you elegantly present your hand to your fiancé to be kissed…

I am so, so honored by all your kind replies and reblogs! Thanks to those who commented on my other prompt fic, Pulse Point:

@fluffycutecevans @madeanaccounttoreadfanfics @nana1000night @writing-for-marvel @raccoon-eyed-rebel @sarcastic-coffeedrinker-reads @holmesbunny @peachyvulpixie @sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @inlovewithhisblueeyes @kingjuli3n 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #henry cavill sherlock #henry!sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x ofc #enola holmes fanfic

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mais-nerdy-corner · 1 year

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𝕬 𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊: 𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕽𝖊𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖘 | 𝕬𝖑𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖒 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Synopsis: Being the Scribe's wife wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. His complex nature and his absence due to work, caused you to go through with your pregnancy alone. But when you slipped away from his grasp, Alhaitham was left alone expressing guilt and regrets.

Pairing: Alhaitham x Female! Reader

Genre: Mostly angst, with some fluff (?)

Note: After completing the 3.2 Archon Quest, I can finally start writing this series. Many spoiler up ahead to those who haven't finished it!

"I will be gone for a while, I have some... 'important business' that I need to take care of. I will be back soon."

'Will be back soon,' he said. Hah, how laughable. You scoffed at your husband's words as you recalled it in your head.

You sometimes questioned your marriage to the Akademiya's Scribe. What did he see in you? What was the reason that made you accept his proposal? Why do you feel clueless about everything? As you recall, you happened to be in the same Haravatat class with him, you started to get close and... all of a sudden, you were married to him. It feels like you have forgotten something, but you couldn't seem to remember.

You yelped when you suddenly felt a strong kick from the baby. "Ow! H-hey little one... You don't like it when mommy's upset, do you? I'm sorry, sweetie. Would walking around help with that?"

When you got up from the couch, you're slowly regretting your decision. Gosh, your back ached and your belly felt so heavy. Nonetheless, you walked around the house for a while, stopping at your front porch.

"Okay, that's enough walking for today. My feet are hurting..." You said to yourself as you sat on one of the outdoor chairs.

The cool breeze lightly grazed your skin, its gentle touch slowly lulling you to sleep.

(Flashback)

Entering the House of Daena, Alhaitham was greeted with a wall of books on his right and left. Walking across the bridge to the main room, he saw how crowded the place was. Alhaitham was slowly regretting his decision, but he desperately needs additional materials for his research. Setting his personal preferences aside, he scoured through bookshelf after bookshelf for materials.

After finding books that might help him in his research, he looked around for a place to sit. As he had seen before, the library was quite crowded, so finding a place to sit wasn't easy. Until he spotted a fellow student from his Darshan sitting by herself.

"Mind if I sit here so that I can finish my research?" he asked the lone student.

"No, not at all. I understand how difficult it is to find a place at a time when the library is busy like this, so I don't mind. As long as you don't bother me."

Alhaitham sat down and was about to start reading his books when he was suddenly intrigued by your work. Several ancient scrolls was laid in front of you written in an unfamiliar script, you looked back and forth at the scroll, to a book, then writing something down on another book.

"I know you said to not bother you, but can I ask you about your work? I've never seen such a script like this before," Alhaitham spoke up.

You looked up, slightly taken aback by his words. "Hm? Oh, sure. I actually haven't seen them before either."

"Oh? Is that so? Then how were you able to acquire such ancient documents? I don't see you ever getting a permit to leave the Akademiya for you to get these scrolls. I see that you also have the appropriate dictionary for it as well."

"Are you suspecting that I've done something illegal in order to get these? Well I'm sorry for bursting your bubble, but these are gifts from my father. He said it's time for me to learn this."

Alhaitham didn't expect that. "Was your father a scholar of the Akademiya?" he asked.

"No, I didn't think so. Or at least, not that I know of."

There was a really awkward silence after you stated your answer. Alhaitham thought of more ways to get more information on you. He was already interested in you.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from Liyue. Why asking? Does it matter to you to know where I'm from?"

"Yes, it does. These scripts are nowhere near similar to the writing system used in Liyue. And your name is Y/n, right?"

"...Correct."

"That doesn't sound like a Liyuean name either..." he murmured.

"Actually, I didn't expect that an apathetic person like you would know the names of the people around him. You're something else, Alhaitham."

"...The feeling is mutual."

❝Zaleos, the God of Peace ruled over a chain of floating island northwest of Inazuma's Jinren Island called Isles of Etsumi. Once an acquaintance to the Guili Assembly, she fought alongside them during the Archon War despite her pacifist nature. Towards the end of the war, a new threat emerged near the Isles of Etsumi causing Zaleos to return to her homeland. And that was the last thing they heard from her. Zaleos had lost her power after the Archon War. She continued her life as an ordinary human, fell in love with one of her subjects, and hope that her powers will return to her descendants.❞

After finishing with their respective missions, the Traveler, Paimon and Dehya agreed to meet up with the group at the Grand Bazaar. Alhaitham and Cyno were already there.

They discussed the smooth running of their respective missions and had a bit of a fight, dragging Nilou into their plans in the process.

"I... I can't believe my ears! You are truly the bravest and most passionate people of Sumeru, well, that... I've ever met!" she beamed.

"Ahem!" Paimon cleared her throat.

"Oh right, the Traveler and Paimon are not from Sumeru, but you are awesome as well!" Nilou corrected herself.

"Hehe, that's right!"

"I... I must admit that I'm a little scared. But I'll try my best for Lesser Lord Kusanali. If I can somehow use my abilities to help you, then count me in."

"Remember, believe in yourself," Cyno said.

"...Okay! I'll get my friends at the Grand Bazaar to help us tomorrow!"

"Just remember not to say too much. Be discreet," Dehya advised.

"Yep, you got it!"

"All the preparations are done. Now, can we finally conclude this meeting?" Alhaitham spoke up.

"Yeah. Tomorrow, we are going to save a god," said the Traveler.

"So, have you thought up what you'd like to say, boss?" Dehya asked.

"It's hard to believe everything that has happened till now... And our actions will bring change to many things tomorrow."

"Yep yep! It's a grand plan, and we're all super awesome!" Paimon said excitedly.

"That's right, so... Just get a good night's sleep, everyone!"

"Hahaha!" Dehya laughed.

"Well said. A good night's rest before an operation can be the difference between success and failure," Cyno commented.

"...Thankfully, I've had my place to myself recently. It's been nice and quiet."

"Huh?"

"Oh, huh, nothing."

"Alright, let's all go home and get a good night's sleep, so we can be up early tomorrow!" Paimon said.

"Okay, so I guess that means it's time to say goodnight now."

"Yep! Goodnight, everyone."

The group went their separate ways, and Alhaitham walked back to his residence. Strolling around Sumeru City at night is indeed the best. The atmosphere is quiet and peaceful, accompanied by sounds of nature. Shops and stalls have closed, their owners and merchants have gone home to rest. The children of Sumeru are no longer running around playing with their friends, they are safe in their respective homes drifting off to dreamland. Only members of the Corps of Thirty patrolled around the city.

Arriving in front of the house, Alhaitham saw that the light was still on from the inside. Are you still awake waiting for his return? He took out the house keys and unlocked the front door, locking it back when he entered. You didn't fall asleep in the living room, so he went to look for you in the kitchen.

You weren't there either, there was just some food you left for him when he came home. Alhaitham appreciate the thought, but he didn't want you overworking yourself. So he went to the last place you might be in, which is your shared bedroom.

"Just as I expected, you've fallen asleep," Alhaitham whispered to himself.

He then noticed a pile of folded clothes in the corner of the room. Alhaitham sighed before approaching the bed to pull your blanket over your shoulders.

"Didn't I tell you not to overwork yourself? Stubborn..."

He suddenly became alert when you stirred in your sleep, hugging the pillow you used for support closer to you. Alhaitham was holding his breath, trying so hard not to wake you up. When he was away from the bed, Alhaitham sighed as he stuffed the folded clothes into the closet.

Taking some clothes of his own, Alhaitham took them to the bathroom to freshen up.

(time skip brought to you by le author :P)

Exiting the bathroom feeling clean and refreshed, Alhaitham had changed into a dark green silk robe. He saw that you were sleeping on the right side of the bed but you were sleeping on your left side. So he occupied the left side of the bed.

He watched as your shoulder rise and fall as a manifestation of the air you inhaled and exhaled. For some reason, Alhaitham couldn't fall asleep. He couldn't stop thinking about the big day tomorrow, even though he was already confident that his plan would work. Was he just... nervous?

Without him knowing, Alhaitham's hand mindlessly snaked towards your pregnant belly, hugging you from behind. You stirred in your sleep feeling the lingering touch on your stomach, causing Alhaitham to froze on the spot. After a while, you started to feel comfortable in his arms.

"Huh, you rascal. Quit scaring your husband like that..." he whispered.

Alhaitham playfully kissed the crown of your head and dozed off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up as usual. It's just, you wondered about something. Did Alhaitham come home last night? But why is there no sign of his return? You swear you felt someone hug you from behind while you were sleeping, you even felt a kiss placed on the crown of your head.

As you continued to scratch the top of your head, you felt the sudden urge to go to the bathroom.

"P-patient, little one... Please give time for mommy to get to the bathroom first... Ugh..."

After somehow managing to avoid a disaster, you headed to the kitchen to look for signs of his return. Just now when you came out of the bathroom, you realized that the pile of clothes you folded the night before had been put in the closet. Did Alhaitham seriously put them away for you? Or did you put them away last night? But you remembered that you will do it in the morning. Hmm...

When you arrived in the kitchen, you immediately found the evidence you needed. The food you left for him is gone.

"So, you really do care about me. Heh, so much for trying to be sneaky..."

(That afternoon)

"What...?! Alhaitham... is exiled to Aaru Village?"

The General Mahamatra went to visit you that afternoon, telling you what they had done on Jnagarbha Day. You immediately stood up reflexively from shock but regretted it soon after.

"Ah, careful...! We don't want you hurting yourself now..." Cyno said as he sat you back down.

"Thanks, Cyno... But still, he willingly used the Divine Knowledge Capsule during his confrontation with Azar, and got himself exiled... I'm relieved that his radical plan worked but, I don't know how I should feel about this..."

"That's understandable. But knowing Alhaitham, he won't let them arrest him so easily. He probably fought them off and escaped."

"Right..."

You went silent, thinking deeply about your husband's plan. Even after marrying him for so many years, you couldn't understand how his brain works.

You were lost in your thoughts until Cyno said his farewells to you. "I have to go now, Y/n. There's still some things that I need to take care of."

"O-oh, I understand. Thanks for dropping by, Cyno."

The General Mahamatra simply nodded and took his leave. You watched him leave until he's out of your sight, letting out a deep sigh and closed your eyes.

A few days have passed since the rescue of Lesser Lord Kusanali and your husband Alhaitham was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't even know whether he's home or not, even if he was, he'll get up early to go take care of something at the Akademiya.

After Azar and his accomplices were overthrown, the Akademiya scrambled to nominate and select new sages. Since the sages from Vahumana and Amurta were the only ones remaining, they need to select new sages for the Rtawahist Darshan, Spantamad Darshan, Haravatat Darshan, and the Kshahrewar Darshan.

While you were cooking breakfast in the kitchen, a knock was heard on the front door.

"My dear Y/n! Oh, you have no idea how much I miss you."

"Kaveh, you're back."

The Palace of Alcazarzaray's architect pulled you into a hug, minding your stomach. He then pulled out a bouquet of Sumeru Roses that he was hiding behind his back.

"You know me, as someone who values aesthetics in everything, unlike that husband of yours... I bought you these flowers because they remind me of you. I know they don't match your level of beauty my dear, but I still hope you like them."

"Oh, Kaveh... You shouldn't have... Thank you. But please, think about your own finances."

"No no, I don't mind if they're spent on a beautiful woman like you," Kaveh said as he winked at you.

You sighed in contentment as you brushed Kaveh off, letting him into the house. He took off his cape and sets it down.

"Have you had breakfast? I just made some," you said as you put the Sumeru Roses in a glass vase.

"That sounds lovely, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't have some right now because... working on a project in the middle of the desert has made me feel disgusted. I'm in desperate need of a bath! You go on ahead darling, I'll soon be joining you."

Kaveh went to use the guest bathroom, leaving you alone in the kitchen. You grabbed two plates, one for yourself and one for him.

As you were just about to scoop up some Aaru Mixed Rice that you cooked earlier, you felt something trickling down your legs.

"Hm? What was tha... Oh no... No, no no no no no. Not at a time like this."

You kept denying the fact that you have gone into labor. But soon, you have to accept the reality as you felt a strong contraction hit you.

"Argh! Oh, this is bad... Kaveh?!" You called out to Kaveh in a panic but considering that he was in the bathroom, he wouldn't hear you. So you were forced to suffer alone until Kaveh came to save you.

After the Traveler and Paimon talked to Nilou at the Grand Bazaar, they headed to the Akademiya to confirm Alhaitham has received Nilou's invitation. By asking an Amurta student by the name of Geoff, they found out that he was in the House of Daena.

Entering the colossal library that stands at the center of the Sumeru Akademiya, the Traveler and Paimon approached the Scribe but stopped when they saw him talking to another person.

"Oh, he's over there! But it looks like he might not have time for us..." Paimon said.

"He's already talking with someone else."

They watched him bicker with a blond man who now they know as Kaveh.

"Forget what's going on with the Akademiya, haven't you been busy with your construction project? Tell me, when are you going to build yourself a mansion?" Alhaitham asked.

"Don't get me started... I get angry just thinking about it," Kaveh grumbled.

"So, what great building did our master architect work on this time?" Alhaitham said sarcastically.

"Like I need to tell you! Keep your nose out of my business," Kaveh retorted.

"No, I think we deserve to know. Where were you when Sumeru needed you most?"

"I was in the desert for a large project, but considering Haravatat's utter ignorance of architectural and aesthetic matters, you probably wouldn't understand. Which is truly unfortunate! I can only pity the man who doesn't understand the first thing about beauty and romance. Unlike a true..."

Kaveh was just about to continue talking when suddenly he had fully processed Alhaitham's words. "Hold on, wait a second, what do you mean by 'when Sumeru needed me most'?" he asked.

"Well, while you were out fiddling around in the desert, many people came together to save Sumeru from a crisis. All you really need to know is that Azar and all his accomplices have all been overthrown."

"Hah, and you think I'd believe that? What nonsense are you talking about?"

"It's no skin off my nose if you don't believe me. It's not like my Darshan was the one trying to apply for funding from the Grand Sage. Yours, though, on the other hand..."

Kaveh seems to be fed up with his underclassman's hypocrisy. To the extent that he said, "You know what? Then I shall ask you this. Where were you when your wife needed you the most?"

"What are you on about, Kaveh?" Alhaitham asked, slightly taken aback.

"Just this morning, I carried your wife to the Bimarstan because she has gone into labor. I thought you as her husband would be there right beside her, supporting her every step of the way. But no, you're here reading that stupid book of yours in the House of Daena! Good Celestia, I don't even know what she saw in you to the point of agreeing to marry you!"

Although his face doesn't show much, Alhaitham was surprised to see the way Kaveh lashed out at him. Yes, he often bickered with his senior, but not to this extent. It has to do with the person he married, the person he loves. But if he treated you like what Kaveh said, does he really love you?

"I'll ask around! I'm sure someone knows what's going on here. You're dead if I find out you're lying to me."

Kaveh stormed off, leaving Alhaitham alone with his thoughts. The Traveler and Paimon are confused about how to respond to Alhaitham's fight with Kaveh earlier. They decided to approach him anyway.

"Hey, Alhaitham!" Paimon greeted.

"Oh, it's you two. What's the matter?"

The expression on the Traveler's and Paimon's faces were both pitiful, the way Alhaitham quickly put up his emotional walls the moment he talked to them. They talked about many things, from their purpose of coming here in the first place to the appointment of Alhaitham as the Grand Sage. The Traveler and Paimon were curious about the person Kaveh had called his 'wife', but they were reluctant to ask about her.

"By the way, who was that other person just now? Is he your friend?" Paimon asked.

"Do we look like friends?"

"Paimon doesn't know! That's why Paimon's asking!"

"His name is Kaveh, my roommate. You could say he's the representative for Kshahrewar scholars," Alhaitham explained.

"He didn't seem to believe a word you told him," the Traveler commented.

"Which is exactly why he always has so many problems."

"Also Alhaitham, Paimon remembers that Kaveh said something about your wife. Paimon didn't know that an annoying person like you has a wife. Why you never mentioned anything about her? Where is she, and why have we never met her?"

Paimon really went for it, she really asked him about you. Even so, Alhaitham remained silent. Uh-oh, has Paimon offended him?

"..."

"...I never talk about my wife because I don't want her to get involved in my work. You yourself already know how dangerous the things we deal with, so I'm also thinking about her safety," Alhaitham spoke up.

"Wow, Paimon also didn't know that someone like you can be so considerate..." Paimon commented.

"Thanks for your hard work these days," the Traveler expressed their gratitude.

"Such is the work of the Akademiya Scribe."

"Well anyway, no matter how busy you are, since you were our planner, remember to attend the celebration feast in two days!" Paimon reminded.

"All right, I'll see you there."

As the Traveler and Paimon leaves the Akademiya, they saw Kaveh frantically rushing into the building. They didn't think much about it and continued their journey to Port Ormos.

(Back inside the House of Daena)

"Al—Alhaitham!"

Alhaitham was now by the one of the bookshelves, he turned around the moment his senior called his name.

"How can I help you, senior Kaveh?" Alhaitham asked.

"Look, this is no time for your jokes and sarcasm. This is very serious!"

"Oh? And what serious thing do you mean by that?"

"Y/n is missing."

"What do you mean “yOu DoN't KnOw”? You were clearly here when you registered her and after."

Alhaitham and Kaveh were at the Bimarstan talking to the only intern there, Tamara. Despite multiple attempts to ask her, Tamara still claimed to "not know" about your whereabouts.

"As I said before, Mr. Kaveh, my job is only to record patients' medical records. Since Doctor Zakariya isn't here, I couldn't do much other than following my senior's orders," she proclaimed.

"Ugh, you...! F–Fine, then enlighten me. Who's this senior of yours who ordered you to do such a thing?" Kaveh asked.

"I believe her name is Najwa."

"Najwa?"

They turned around at the sound of another voice. It turned out that another intern doctor named Golshan had just returned from whatever she was doing.

"Didn't she leave Sumeru a long time ago? I heard that she disappeared for a while. What is she doing back in Sumeru?"

"Who exactly is this Najwa?" Alhaitham asked.

"Ms. Najwa was our senior in the Amurta Darshan, she was also a doctor here in Bimarstan. But all of a sudden, she decided to leave Sumeru and we haven't heard from her since then," Golshan explained.

"And what were her orders?" Kaveh took turns asking.

"She ordered me to give medicine to the patient to reduce the pain because the patient was about to be transferred. Doctor Zakariya is out and she said it would be easier if the patient was brought there," Tamara explained.

"That doesn't make any sense at all! Transferring a patient who is in labor is a very big risk! Don't you understand?"

Kaveh went into a fit of rage, he tried to reason with the irresponsible intern doctor. Alhaitham on the other hand, had already planned his next move.

"Nidal!" he called.

A Corps of Thirty mercenary by the name of Nidal was coincidentally walking around the area when he heard the Scribe's call. He quickly rushed towards where Alhaitham was.

"Yes, Scribe Alhaitham? What are your orders?" Nidal asked.

"Gather some of your men, we're possibly looking for a kidnapped person."

(Meanwhile)

"What is the meaning of this? Let go of me!"

You just woke up and found yourself in an unfamiliar place. Your wrists and legs are strapped to the examination table in the middle of the dark, dingy room.

A voice of a man suddenly echoed in the room, sending shivers down your spine

"Quit struggling, darling. Otherwise you might not make it out of here alive."

"Dottore... You still dare to show your face in the land of the God of Wisdom. You better let me go and get out of here!"

"Ooh, feisty... Still, that's not going to help you out of here."

Your body tensed the moment he walked towards you. You glared at him as you watched him circle you with a smile on his face.

"Do you know why you were brought here? Can you guess it?" Dottore asked. "Even if you knew, you wouldn't tell me. Let me do the honor to tell you. It all has to do with your origins, were you the one who inherited Zaleos' powers?"

"I won't hesitate to use that power on you..." you threatened him.

"Hah, even in this condition? Have you forgotten who you're dealing with? There's a reason why I'm second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Do you want me to prove tha--"

"Dottore, sir. I advise you not to put her under more stress, it's bad for the child in her w--"

"Yes yes, I understand, Najwa. Keep an eye on her and let me know when she's progressing."

(Later that evening)

"Ugh, we can finally rest! Seriously, I haven't even had a chance to eat breakfast yet. I'm already starving, luckily Miss Golshan came along and cooked us dinner."

After hours of trying to find you, the group decided to take a break as it was getting dark. They stopped at a campground that happens to have a pot over a campfire, which they used to cook dinner.

"It's nothing, Mr. Kaveh. I can't let you continue on this mission on an empty stomach, you will get sick and become a patient in the Bimarstan then," Golshan said.

"Aww, you're so considerate Miss Golshan. Unlike my anathema of a underclassmen, Alhaitham over here," Kaveh sneered.

"I already planned our mission even when you're panicking back at the Bimarstan earlier. How much more ungrateful can you be?" Alhaitham replied back.

"You didn't even bother to ask your senior whether he had breakfast or not!"

"It's because you didn't tell me."

Golshan sweatdropped at the sight of Alhaitham and Kaveh's bickering. She stopped them by ladling out the Minty Bean Soup into wooden bowls.

"Here you go, Mr. Kaveh. Your Minty Bean Soup," Golshan said as she handed a bowl of soup to him.

"Why thank you, Miss Golshan! You're my savior."

"Here's one for you too, Scribe Alhaitham."

"T-thank you, Miss Golshan..."

They enjoyed a warm and hearty dinner under the starry night sky. Alhaitham hasn't touched his soup, he instead observed the atmosphere around him. He saw members of his group talking, laughing, and joking with each other as they're having seconds of the Minty Bean Soup. Come to think of it, Alhaitham quite liked this kind of atmosphere. He really should have dinner with you more often...

Nidal and a few other Corps of Thirty members have returned with news.

"Scribe, we've found the place."

It's the night of the celebration feast held to celebrate Cyno's reinstatement as the General Mahamatra. Alhaitham went to attend the event.

Two days have passed since the day of your kidnapping, and now you're safe in the hands of the Bimarstan. When they ventured into the place where you might be being held, you were found in a very concerning condition.

(Flashback)

The group burst into a dark, dingy room with a examination table in the middle. There, they found you lying on top of it. Alhaitham, Kaveh and Golshan were quick to approach you.

"Y/n...! Oh my Archon..." Kaveh gasped.

Alhaitham was quick to take you into his arms, thinking you would react to his touch. But, you laid completely still in his arms. He tried to shake your body and call your name hoping you would wake up, but his efforts were in vain.

"Goodness, she's cold to the touch... and her skin is abnormally pale... We have to run her to the Bimarstan as soon as possib--"

"But what about my niece/nephew? Where are they?!"

Kaveh's shouting triggered the sound of crying which can be heard from the next room. Nidal and his friends slowly approached the door to the room, followed by Golshan and Kaveh. After making sure that the room was safe from the outside, Nidal let them both in. And there, they found something surprising.

Golshan was too stunned to even speak properly, on the other Kaveh hand...

"Guess what Alhaitham said about me being clueless was right after all... I didn't expect them to be twins..."

(Flashback ends)

Yes, you heard it. You and Alhaitham had twin girls. Yay, congratulation! Shouldn't he be happy? Unfortunately, no, he wasn't.

While the others were eating and having fun, Alhaitham barely touched his food. Even though his face doesn't show much emotion, his feelings are mixed inside. Especially after remembering what Golshan said to him when they arrived at the Bimarstan.

"Twins usually take a long time to come out, but your daughters seemed to come out pretty fast. There are ways to speed up labor, but unfortunately your wife's delivery is forced to speed up. This caused her body to be heavily strained. And... I'm afraid she can't recover from this..."

Alhaitham gritted his teeth as he replayed Golshan's words over and over in his head. He didn't even notice the tight grip on the gold rimmed wine glass he was holding.

"Uhh, Alhaitham...? Are you okay? Paimon noticed you were gritting your teeth earlier, are the effects from the Divine Knowledge Capsule still there?" Paimon asked.

Alhaitham looked up from his reverie and saw his friends all looking at him with concern in their eyes. But he brushed it off as if it was nothing.

"The effects from the Divine Knowledge Capsule only lasted for a few minutes. It shouldn't give any side effect to this day. So yes, I'm completely fine. Don't mind me," Alhaitham said before taking a sip of his wine.

His friends are still worried about him, except for one. Cyno, he clearly knew why Alhaitham was behaving that way. Even though he is busy dealing with educational issues in Aaru Village, he knows the guilt that is in the Scribe's self.

"Just let him be," Cyno said curtly.

Although still feeling reluctant to leave Alhaitham alone, they tried to enjoy the feast 'till the moment it ended.

(After the celebration feast)

Cyno headed to the Bimarstan as he exited the door to the left from the Zubayr Theater stage. He immediately spotted Doctor Zakariya talking to Golshan.

"Oh, the General Mahamatra...! What brings you here to our fine establishment?" Doctor Zakariya greeted.

"Is the patient by the name of Y/n here?" he asked.

"She is resting inside. Mr. Kaveh has been staying here since two days ago, seems like he fell asleep too," Golshan informed.

"Alright, thank you."

The door to your room was slightly agape, Cyno peeked inside and saw Kaveh resting his head on the edge of the bed by your leg. He must have fallen asleep. Cyno tiptoed into the room, hoping that he won't wake any of you. But his efforts were in vain, as Kaveh woke up because he somehow felt another presence in the room.

"Oh, Cyno... Hello...! How's the celebration feast?" Kaveh greeted.

"It went just as you expected it would be."

Cyno looked at you then looked at the little bundles of joy sleeping in their crib. He couldn't help but smiled at the way they slept so soundly.

"Has Y/n woken up earlier?"

"She has... Miss Golshan gave us some food considering Y/n also didn't have breakfast the day she was kidnapped. I didn't mean to become such a nuisance to Miss Golshan and the Bimarstan, but there's no point for me to return to Alhaitham's residence. I mean, how could I?"

Cyno listened to Kaveh's pitiful rambling, as if he was drunk. Well he wasn't exactly drunk on alcohol, he was drunk on sadness.

"...Y/n hardly touched her food, I only managed to feed her a few spoonfuls of soup. Where even is Alhaitham? Was he enjoying the celebration feast?"

"He tried, but I saw through the facade he's trying to put up. I saw the guilt and regrets in his eyes, I know he feels bad about what he did," Cyno said.

"Huh, he better be..."

The two men in the room suddenly became alert when you stirred in your sleep. Kaveh moved his chair closer to you while Cyno stood by the end of the bed. Your eyes slowly fluttered open revealing those beautiful (eye color) eyes he adored.

"Y/n... hi...! You still have a lot of soup left. Do you want to continue eating it? I can feed you like before," Kaveh offered.

"Thanks Kaveh, but I'm not that hungry... How's the celebration feast, Cyno? Did you enjoy it?"

"It was good. I quite liked it," Cyno said.

"That's good to hear..."

The room fell silent and the only thing that could be heard was your labored breathing. You really were on your last leg. They couldn't do anything to help you other than keeping you company. They resented their uselessness, and it shows from their wistful expressions.

"Cyno... Could I... ask you of a favor?"

"...What is it?" he asked.

"Would you do the honors of reciting the prayer in the baby's ears?"

"Agh... Are you sure...?" Cyno flusteredly asked.

You nodded as Kaveh had already picked up your older daughter and handed her to the General Mahamatra. The architect even had time to correct the way he held the little one.

"Have you given her a name?"

"No, I... haven't even thought of a name yet..."

The General Mahamatra hummed before bringing your older daughter closer to his lips. "May the God watch over you and protect you."

And it was at that moment Alhaitham came into the room. His arrival was unexpected, but they knew he'll eventually come around. Kaveh scorned at Alhaitham's presence, while you and Cyno were relieved to see him. You could see the way his eyes soften at you waking up and at the twins.

"Alhaitham..."

"Look who finally decided to show up! Don't you understand how frustrating it is for you to just come and go as you please to do?" Kaveh confronted.

"Senior Kaveh, I understand this is upsetting but I beg you to calm do--"

"Oh, so now you're acting respectful to me!? I see you Alhaitham, I see you! I don't know what kind of game you're playing with me, but I advise you to stop it right now! I am getting sick of it!"

Kaveh's outburst was understandable but Cyno cared about your welfare. After returning your older daughter to you, he dragged Kaveh out of the room.

"That's enough, Kaveh. Let's go," Cyno said.

"Whaa-- Ugh, Cyno...! Don't you understand what I'm trying to do?" Kaveh protested.

"It's better we leave them alone so they can talk things over."

For a moment you two were alone, Alhaitham let his emotional wall down as he suddenly pulled you into a hug and pressed his forehead against yours.

"...Don't scare me like that. I thought you would never wake up."

"Not as scared as I was when I heard you were exiled to Aaru Village. I won't forgive you for nearly giving me a heart attack..."

He chuckled at your words before planting a kiss on your forehead. Since you were already holding your older daughter, Alhaitham picked up her younger sister who was still fast asleep in her crib. She was cranky for a moment but quickly calmed down and warmed up to her father's touches.

"...Look at them. Aren't they just the most adorable and precious things you've seen on Teyvat?"

Alhaitham had to agree. It really was the most precious thing he had ever seen. His genuine smile as he looked at his two daughters with such affection warms your heart.

"Have you given them names?" he asked.

"No, I haven't... Actually I was waiting to discuss it with you..."

This caused Alhaitham to feel even worse. How long have you been waiting for him? Why are you so patient with him? He felt he was not worthy of you.

"Hey...! No, don't go to sleep yet... We haven't even started the discussion..."

Alhaitham's desperate calls was heard by the two men who were outside the room, causing Kaveh and Cyno to come back inside. They could see you were struggling to breathe and they couldn't deny the fact that you were dying.

"Alhaitham, please... listen to me. Can you... recite the prayer in our younger daughter's ear?"

He simply nodded as he stood up to recite the prayer. Kaveh has gotten close to you to take turns holding your older daughter in one arm and holding your hand. You watched as Alhaitham does his job like a father, and it made your heart flutter. You couldn't be more proud of him.

'Forgive me Alhaitham, but I can't continue on this journey. My time has come, and my life will come to an end. Don't worry, you have many friends who will accompany you on this journey. Even if you feel lost, they are the ones who will help you and guide you to the right path. I entrust our two daughters in your hands. I love you... goodbye.'

Alhaitham seemed to be in a world of his own, and it was only when he finished reciting the prayer that he realized what had happened. Kaveh sobbed as he begged you to come back signified you have passed.

"No... no...! You can't possibly leave me alone! Please Y/n, I beg of you...! Come back...!"

Cyno tugged at his headpiece to hide the fact his lips were quivering. Alhaitham didn't even realize the expression he has on his face right now. How his eyes widened as tears flowed down his face.

The men in the room were caught off guard as the little ones began to feel the loss of their mother. Alhaitham who was holding his crying younger daughter didn't know how to handle her, when suddenly he saw the way Kaveh handled his older daughter.

"Oh no, no no no... It's okay, my dear... Shhhh... Don't cry, Uncle Kaveh's here... We're in this together, okay? I want you to be strong..."

Kaveh was right. What did you even see in him? Alhaitham began to question everything he thought he knew. Just like you at the beginning of this story.

Alhaitham thinks he doesn't deserve to have received your love and affection.

[Author's Note]: Whew! I finally finished writing the prologue of this series! *cue the author's celebration dance*

I know I stated in my rules that I won't be writing for Alhaitham, but I just couldn't help it. For me, this series is just my way to explore his character :)

Publication date: November 23rd 2022

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff

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lyrenminth · 6 months

Text

Choosing you

You always find yourself in strange situations. Nothing compared with spying your boyfriend talking with his drunk best friend about you. Layla, a tall, slim and beautiful girl who reminds you what autumn looks like has always been so kind toward you, so it caught you off guard when you heard her say your name with so much disdain. "I'm just saying you can do better than her" you hide in the corridor next to a bookshelf, listening in the dark. A heavy weight starting to form in the top of you stomach. Even though you're in college now, somehow this situation make you feel fifteen year old again. "You're are going to be a super star, Joey. You need someone better" You frown, hurt. You wait for Joe answer, which comes quickly in a calm reassuring tone. " I like her" it's all he says but makes your heart flutter. "You can like many other women. Women who are smarter…" "She is smart" he replies. "Someone who can bring something to the table…you have herds of girls throwing themselves at you. You have options, Joey…" herr words break you heart because you thought she was a friend. You never expected to meet this Regina George's reincarnation. Layla didn't give you that impression. "Lay, you are drunk as fuck. I love my girlfriend, she makes me happy. End of the story" he was moving around by the sound of it. "I suppose she fucks excellently" Layla says, something evil in her tone. "Enough!" Joe harsh tone makes you jump in your place. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you care so much? Are you really my friend Layla or just another jealous girl?" "I don't…", her voice was squeaky. "I don't want to hear you slander my girlfriend only because you feel threaten or whatever you are feeling. But if I hear you are bad mouthing her I'll make you regret it" "Joey, I wasn't trying to bad mouth her" "Whatever" You hear steps coming and you run to hide in the bathroom again. You are shaking and overflow with emotions. Of course you have to say something to Joe, but you don't want him to know you were eavesdropping. As to Layla…fuck her. You are going to give her to cold shoulder from now and on.

You get out of the bathroom, and you hear Layla crying in the kitchen. You look for Joe in the backyard, standing close to the fire, drinking beer. It's expression it's a little gloomy but when he sees you his face lights up. You get closer and hug him, shoving your face in his hoodie. He smells so good. "Everything alright?" you asked. "Yeah" he reads you expression, raising a quizzical eyebrow "Wanna go?" "Please" you looked around, looking for someone "Where's Layla?" A shadow crosses his beautiful face, but he shrugs. "I don't know. Let's say goodbye" Back in the privacy of your home, the severity of the things she said hit you like a truck. You weren't a model, that's true. Sometimes you wondered why Joe chose you but the true is actions speak louder than words, he was defending you.

He still chooses you.

And that's all that matters.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic

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cookstorys · 1 year

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𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚝

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Character- Markus Baker

Show/Movie- Ginny and Georgia

Warning- sneaking in, mentions of sex, making out, getting caught

Author Note- 🤏🏾This close to almost being smut

Females DNI ‼️

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“Thanks for the great time girls but I gotta go do a project.” You smiled as you walked up to your room. “Ok sweet peach,” Georgia yelled. Before you could even sit in your desk seat there was a knock at your door. You opened it to be greeted by the birthday girl herself, Ginny. “Do you think you could stall for me? I’m trying to sneak out and-“ “Sure.” You cut her off. “Really?” She asked surprised you were so ok with it. “Happy Birthday.” Ginny silently screamed and went for a hug which was an uncommon action for your twin to do. “Thank you, I swear you won’t regret it.”

She walked towards her room and you closed your door. Once again before you could pull out your laptop there was a knock on your window. ‘Great’ You looked towards it to see the ‘bad boy’ next door, Marcus. You went to open it and he slipped in. “Hello, baby boy.” He smiled but you just cringed. “Baby boy?” You asked with a smile. “You don’t like it? I thought you would since-.” Marcus cut off his sentence when you gave him the look. “Sorry geez.” He laid on your bed. “Why aren’t you celebrating your birthday.” He asked. You walked towards your bookshelf beside your desk. “I wasn’t born until 12:01 so my birthday isn’t until tomorrow.” You answered. “Where the fuck did I put that book?” You asked yourselves out loud.

“You mean this one?” You looked towards Marcus to see him holding up the very book you were looking for. “Yes actually. Markus what are you doing.” You laughed. As you were walking towards him he had somehow pulled you into his lap. “Nothing.” He answered with a smirk. Tho you guys didn’t exactly have a label for this ‘thing’ you guys had, it was pretty clear you both had feelings for one another.

“Oh really?” You smirked and went in for a kiss which Marcus quickly returned. Even tho you never really had anyone like this at your old school(s) you guessed you were pretty good. Since Marcus always seemed to enjoy himself. You kissed him a little harder, with a lot more passion now. He followed the kisses down your neck leaving marks behind his trail. You held a moan inside.

You couldn’t hold the urge anymore, your hands traveled to his pants struggling with the pants zipper. “Wait, I thought we were going to wait?” Marcus asked as he pulled from this neck kisses, out of breath. “I thought that’s where we were going?” You asked embarrassed now. “No I’m not saying I didn’t want it to not go there, I just wanted to make sure you were sure before losing your v card.” You smiled, he cared.

“I’m more sure than ever.” You responded kissing up his jawline to finally make it to his lips. He smirked and kissed back. Your arms found their way back to his hair as he went back to kissing your neck. You started grinding your hips on his lap. You didn’t know what you were doing. He threw his head back, in the pleasure your guessing, and your hands went towards his zipper.

“Where is Ginny?“ Your mom yelled as she opened your door. You and Marcus looked at her with traumatized expressions and broke apart. “Ma, me and Marcus were only-“ She held out her hand to stop you. “I can only deal with one child crisis at a time.” She exhaled and closed the door. “I’m dead.” You sat on your bed. “Well, at least we can continue,” Marcus whispered and went in for a kiss. You dodged it and pointed toward your window.

“Brat.” You said to him

#male reader #ginny and georgia #marcus baker

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Roll Of The Dice // Jake Seresin

Chapter Three: “100 Tales”

Summary: There’s a book that haunts Jake Seresin everywhere he goes. But is it the book doing the haunting or the person who had last been reading it that’s doing haunting?

Warnings: Jake Seresin x dead!almostwife reader. Jake Seresin Angst. Grief and loss of life. Haunted memories—paranormal activity? Slow decent into madness?

Word Count: 3.9k

Author Note: This series is totally 100% a self indulgent one but thank-you for reading along. I dunno how many parts I’ll end up writing but for now? Here’s another chapter.

Series Masterlist

Jake thought he’d feel better after a shower. He was wrong.

There’s a book that sits untouched on the desk in his dorm room. He never did bother to finish reading it. Too afraid of what he may become inclined to believe. It was the last book you had been reading before you left him so unexpectedly. To Jake Seresin there had been no greater definition of an unexpected demise than the fact you hadn’t even used your beloved bookmark to mark your chapter with—you’d been so busy that you just ear tagged the page, stopping in the middle of your sentence with a huff. Not bothering to continue reading on because you’d come back to it soon.

But you never got the chance to.

Jake remembers it like it had been just yesterday because he was the one who’d interrupted you. He’d been the one to draw you out of the compelling world of all things paranormal so that you could help him with the guttering that had become clogged with decaying leaves.

That was the last time he can remember seeing you pick up that damn book in his memories. Now he took it wherever he went, determined to finish it for you, in honour of you. But he was too afraid of what he may find on every page he turned. Too afraid that if he started to believe for just a second, he’d see you watching over him—but you wouldn’t be looking at him like he was the love of your life. No. Jake was terrified that if for a moment he faltered in his belief systems that ghosts aren't real and there was no life after death that he’d see you looking at him like he let you down. Like he was the reason you were gone, looking at him like he could have done something, fucking anything to save you.

Jake Seresin would boast he wasn’t afraid of anything, that nothing could scare him. That there was nothing on this earth that could confront him. But that was a blatant lie—Jake was afraid of something. He was afraid of what lurked in the dark. He was terrified of the shadows that followed him aimlessly, the noises that haunted him. The sounds that went bump in the night.

He was afraid of whatever was following him, a vengeful presence that lurked from the shadows. He was afraid of you. The version of you that you’d become, grown out of guilt and regret. But the thing was? Jake had made that version of you up in his own head. For you weren’t vengeful nor spiteful. You were simply stuck because Jake Seresin couldn’t let you go.

As you watched from the edge of the bed you’d decided to perch on, crossing your legs and letting your elbow fall against your knee. Your hand holding your head up tiredly—Jake paused in his tracks as he held the damp towel around his waist. Fresh out the shower that didn't help. You watched as his eyes lingered on the book he took everywhere he went. Deployment to detachment, it went with him everywhere.

“If you’d just read the damn thing you could just put it back on the bookshelf and save space in your duffel.” You sighed knowing that your pleas fell on deaf ears. Jake couldn’t hear you, he couldn’t see you, but you knew deep down he could feel you. He balled his first around the engagement ring that hung from his dog tags as he thought for a second if he should skip out on beers and burgers and stay in for the night. Finish the book.

Looking down at the book, Jake remembered the first time you’d read the introduction to him. Catching himself smirking at the moment, Jake allowed himself a small hit of serotonin as he took a walk down memory lane. Closing his eyes as he let out a deep sigh of heartbreak. Remembering the moment he really did think he had it all.

***~***~***~***~

(Austin Texas—The Seresin Household , April 24th 2019)

The water was far too soothing on Jake's aching muscles to protest against your actions. He’d had a long day and coming home to you running him a hot bath was just the cherry on top of a pretty exhausting but pretty good day. What he didn’t expect though was that you’d join him in the warm bath. Watching as you sunk into the water between his legs and let your back fall against his chest.

“I don’t remember sending out an open invitation, Dice.” Jake chuckled as you made yourself comfortable against his chest. Water lapping at the edge of the bath as you settled in.

“You don’t want me to sit here and read to you while you soak up half a box of epsom salt I know you poured into this bath when I turned my back?” Jake simply wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you flush to him as he kissed your shoulder tenderly. “Hmm.” You sighed softly at the feeling, accepting that the gentle act of affection had been Jake's white flag. “That's what I thought, Hangman–” It wasn't all that often the two of you used your call signs as terms of endearment outside of work hours. But still–sometimes, they crept in. “I got a new book at the store I really like in the mall today.”

“Bookface?” Jake mumbled against your shoulder as he watched you reach up to where you placed the book on the vanity. Nodding in response, you sunk back against your soon to be husband.

“That's the one.” Jake was attentive to detail. He knew everything there was to know about you and then some. He was your best friend, your wingman, your love, your soulmate. He knew what time you set your alarm for every morning but knew the actual time you'd get up. About half an hour before you had to be out the door.

He knew that whenever you poured yourself a drink you'd never finish it. He’d always finish it. He knew all your favourite foods, all specifically from the same carbohydrate family. From pasta to pizza to pastries and more. Jake even knew that some fabric on the duvet covers you both had were better than others. He noticed that the silk set his mother had gifted you both had barely been used and sat at the back of the linen cupboard more often than not. You said the fabric was hard to twirl in your fingers and even if he didn't necessarily know what you meant by that, he understood why you rotated between three specific sets. They were all made of the same material. “So why don't you just lay back and relax and I'll read to you.”

“I feel like this is entrapment.” Jake tried to protest purely out of need to argue with you. He knew he could get a rise out of you quicker than anyone else could. That was simply because for two people who were madly in love you couldn't have been more opposite. The only things you shared in common with your finance’ was the fact you were both Naval Aviators, and you both knew how to Roll The Dice when it came to risk taking behaviours. “What's the book about?”

Your silence gave everything away. Jake knew when you hid the cover from him that it was going to be something he would usually hate. But now that you had him trapped in the bath with his legs either side of yours? He had nowhere to go. Clearing your throat, you began to read to your soon to be husband as the candle in the corner omitted a lavender aroma into the air around you. The beer Jake had brought with him collecting condensation against the class as it sat next to the bath on the little stand.

“For a long as human beings have been dying, they have been turning into ghosts.” You started with the introduction page as you settled into Jake. He pressed his lips together as if to stop himself from accidentally insulting your intelligence for believing in this kind of crap. “Or maybe they haven't. That’s the great thing about ghosts: Nobody knows if they're real, so they are endlessly entertaining like Bigfoot or Elon Musk.” Jake let out a short chuckle, the ruble radiating against your back from his chest. “Ha! You laughed, I'm off the hook.”

“It's good writing, doesn’t mean it's facts are substantial.” You let that comment slide as Jake's hands roamed your body under the water, settling once again on your stomach. “Keep going.” Even if the paranormal realm of possibility wasnt Jake Seresins favourite subgenre, he did enjoy it when you took the time out of your day to sit and read to him. It was a favourite pastime of his, his little bookworm. “Like your voice too much, could listen to you all day.” That just made your heart swoon. Cleaning your throat as you turned your attention back to the book in your hands, you continued on.

“Australian history is riddled with ghosts, which is unsurprising given that our nation's past is filled with violence and sadness and people dying in entertaining ways.”

“Hold up–” You sighed when Jake interrupted you so soon after he’d asked you to keep reading. At this rate you were never going to make it off the first page. “Its an Australian book?”

“Ben Pobjie is an Australian author.” Explaining softly as you wiggled against Jake's crotch, forcing a groan from the depths of his soul to escape past slightly parted lips. “Now would you just be quiet and let me read? Or else i'll get out and go read in my nook.'' Jake had built you a little reading nook a few months ago. Complete with a massive bookshelf that he took the time to help you organise all your books in colour and alphabetical order.

“Alright, alright, I'll shut up.” Jake chuckled before kissing your head, taking in the smell of your hair as he did so. Sinking lower into the warm bubbly water, you continued on.

“Seemingly every country town has at least one ghost knocking about the place, laminating his or her unfortunate demise and whipping up that peculiar mixture of terror and civic pride that only a local phantasm can produce.” Jake Loved you–oh so much. He couldn't wait to marry you soon. The two of you still hadn’t broken the news yet that you were even engaged let alone dating let alone planning a wedding! The plan was to invite everyone to the ‘engagement party’ then spring it on them that it was your actual wedding.

“Of course, some towns are more haunted than others, as this book will demonstrate. Kapunda in South Australia and Picton in New South Wales are great examples of hamlets with especially strong paranormal resonances, where the ectoplasm is particularly sticky and around every corner is another spook ready to startle you.” Jake never really understood how he got so lucky with you. You tolerated all his bullshit and never let his ego get too big. You were his anchor in life. His rock, his entire world ever since he’d first met you. He thought you were the most beautiful women he’d ever had the pleasure of getting to know. Inside and out.

“Not that every ghost is an unfriendly one. In these pages you will find ghosts of both the menacing and the kindly types, as well as plenty who have no real agenda beyond wandering in the hinterlands between life and death, and making funny noises or giving off odd light.” As you continued on reading, Jake thought about what it would be like to listen to you reading to your children. The two you planned on having. Running his hands across your stomach thinking about what you would look like pregnant with his child. Letting his head rest against the back of the bath as he got lost in the thought of you carrying his children.

“Why do we love ghosts so much? Why do they fascinate us, obsess us, cause us to write books and songs and movies about them? Why, although we may be scared of them, do we simultaneously find ourselves so attached to stories about them and–let's be honest–hope that those stories are true?” You were the strongest woman Jake knew, you could kick his ass halfway to Sunday in a dog fight. The better half of him. Everyone knew you were the reason Jake hadn’t gotten lost in his own ego. Behind every great man was an even greater woman and that was the truth when it came to you and Jake. He’d be lost without you, he couldn't imagine a world without you in it. You'd take the colour and the stars and everything good with you.

“Part of the answer is obvious: ghosts are evidence of life after death. Even the most ghastly ghost story carries within it a seed of hope that when our body dies, perhaps our soul will carry on existing in some form.” As the water soothed his aching muscles, your gentle voice soothed Jake's soul, exhaling a sigh as he sank lower behind you until the water was lapping just above his nipples.

“That form might be a blood-soaked nightmare stomping around the upper floor of an old pub and banging on innocent peoples doors but it's better than nothing.” Being with you, his best friend, the better half of him, felt like a dream come true. Jake only ever thought people like you lived in the fairytales his mum would read to his sisters at bedtime when they were kids. He loved seeing you come home after a long day in your flight suit–he’d watch with a mischievous smirk as you strip down as you walked towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of discarded articles of clothing in the hall. Stepping straight into the shower before doing anything else. Much like Jake needed at least two coffees to get going in the morning.

“But besides hope for ourselves, it's just plain exciting to imagine there is something beyond this world. That material realm is full of interesting stuff, but it becomes even more thrilling if there's a whole other universe going on behind the scenes. To think that there could be an invisible presence brushing past you in a corridor: to believe that on a still, moonlight night you could catch a sight of a mournful rider galloping through your town: to hope that the shadowy figure on the far side of the cemetery is a lost child from the 19th century and not just a bush…. Our everyday experiences only ever hints at?” Jake could do this all day, listen to you read as you shared a warm, relaxing bath together. It may have actually been in his top five things to do, right alongside doing you. Kissing your shoulder as he knew you were nearing the end of your chapter.

“In these pages you will come across a dizzying array of ghosts, spooks, phantoms, apparitions, unearthly presences and inexplicable encounters. You will meet tragic lovers, brutalised convicts, gruesome murder victims, unhappy children, miserable asylum inmates and their callous overseas and even the old esteemed politician.” Leaving soft, butterfly-like kisses up and down the juncture of your neck, Jake grew underneath your ass as you wiggled around against his crotch. He couldn't help but to physically react to the sensation. Watching as the water lapped over the edge of the bath as you turned around to straddle his lap, still holding your book up protecting it from the water. Eyes trained on the pages in your hand as Jake's hands guided your hips. Steadinging you above him as his length rested hard between your folds.

“You will be taken all over Australia, from Queensland's blazing heat to the chilly greenery of Tasmania, from Western Australia's splendid isolation to the stories contained herein, or you may not. But beyond a doubt, you will come away knowing that whatever the truth lies, there is indeed a hell of a lot of creep stuff going on out there. Dim the lights, hold tight to the hand of a loved one and make your way inside.”

“What a bunch of baloney Bubba.” Jake grinned as you placed your bookmark in and reached over to put your book on the vanity. “But hey, if that's what you believe, I'll entertain it.”

“You're just afraid of the things that lurk in the dark Seresin, it's always easier to deny the unexplainable than to face them head on.” You chuckled as you leaned in to kiss your soon to be husband as Jake's hand roamed your exposed back. It wasn’t long before he was ducking to pay some attention to your nipples, sucking softly in the buds as you let graceful moans echo throughout the bathroom. “Jake–baby.”

“I think we should take this to the bedroom.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows as he came back up to kiss your jaw. Nodding desperately, you agreed, both racing to grab towels and book it to the bed.

***~***~***~***~***~

(North Island—Hard Deck Bar, October 17th 2019)

The Hard Deck Bar hadn’t changed a bit since the last time Jake Seresin was in North Island. The only thing he could really notice that had changed was the owner. Penny Benjamin. All the fixtures were still the same. The artwork, the ambiance, the smells were all the same–nostalgia oozed from the cracks in the stained wood flooring. There wasn't a part of the pub that didn't just bleed Navy propaganda. But for a Navy bar you had to at least expect that.

Jake Seresin however, well–he had changed immensely.

“Penny my dear–” Jake sent Penny one of his thousand-watt smiles as he leant on the bar, tapping the side of his debit card a few times softly against the glossed bartop. “Can I please get another round?”

“Sure thing Hangman.” Penny acknowledged the aviator she’d seen space out a little the other night. She wasn't one to pry into people's personal lives or coax out their problems–being a bartender by trade however? People seem to want to spill their deepest darkest secrets regardless. “Saw things get a little heated between you and Bradshaw the other night.” Penny mumbled as she worked to pop the tops off the four beers Jake had ordered. One for him, one for Coyote, one for Payback and one for Fanboy. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly, no.” Jake huffed as he rolled his neck, his shoulders were a little stiff from flying earlier that same day. His chest and triceps didn't enjoy the two hundred push-ups either. He stopped enjoying the exercise around eighty seven if he was being completely honest with himself. “He just likes to run his mouth.”

“Mmm–” Penny pressed her lips together as she sat the bottles on top of the bar. “Wouldn't have anything to do with Dice Dixon would it?” Jake squinted his eyes at the barkeep he had a soft spot for, tilting his chin up slightly as if to ask how she knew. Penny knew everything. “Phoenix was kind enough to fill me in.” Penny explained softly as she leaned on the bar, crossing her forearms over each other. “It was before my time, and I'm not prying–” Penny made sure to remind Jake she wasn't trying to insert herself into issues that weren’t her own. “I'm just making sure you and Rooster aren't gonna throw hands in my pub.”

“Bradshaw ain't worth it.” Jake took a sip of the closet beer to him. Rolling his eyes as he did so. But as the golden amber liquid hit the back of Jake's throat, he felt tears welling in his eyes as the thought of you crept up on him. He just couldn't shake the thought of you, especially while back at Miramar. “Dice and I were close friends, that's all.” Jake lied through his fucking teeth as he placed his beer down, licking his lips to taste the fabrication he’d just told Penny. Friends you were not. Almost married, now that you were. “Can't shake her Pen, she’s just everywhere.”

“You believe in life after death?” Penny asked as Jake handed her his card, she took it gracefully. Walking over to where the till was to ring up his total. “Because if you can't shake the thought of her maybe it's because she's still hanging around?” Penny was a firm believer in the afterlife but not in some heaven or hell kinda way. She believed though that the soul remained.

“Not really.” It wasn't that Jake was a firm no-believer, he just didn't really have any substantial evidence to change his mind to that of someone who believed wholeheartedly that there was something to look forward to after your time here on earth. “But if you had asked Y/n that then she would have said yes.” From the very first date Jake knew you were the one for him. His soulmate if you believed in all that soulbonding crap. He didn't. You did. He knew that from the first beer you sat and talked over that he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you.

Turns out though he spent the rest of your life with you.

Jake knew that from the first date alone you were something special, hell–he knew that from the first time he laid eyes on you in the locker room. But it was that first date, that casual conversation over a few beers at the Hard Deck that you had single handedly stolen his heart and never given it back. Jake just hoped if there was a life after death that you were somewhere keeping his heart saved for the day he got to see you again.

“Thanks for that chat Penny, put a ten dollar tip on my tab.” Penny just nodded silently in response. Watching as Hangman collected the beers he had ordered before turning on his heels.

As he made his way over to where he’s been hanging with his colleagues, Jake stopped in his tracks as he swore he caught a glimpse of you sitting by the table you used to frequent with him. The very table you had your first date at. Jake swore he saw you, smiling at him, waving him down as he paused in his tracks and turned the colour of china white heroin. He swore he saw the love of his life, reading that same book that sat on his stupid desk in his stupid dorm.

But it wasn't you, it was just some girl who looked an awful lot like you, waving to her friend who had just walked in behind him. Jake watched as she pocketed the book into her handbag, catching the title and he swore his heart stopped beating for a moment. It was the same damn book that sat unread back at his dorm, the same book you had read to him in the bath that one time. It wasn't you, but Jake surely knew that you were fucking with him now. The title sending a shiver down his spine as he swallowed to get rid of the cotton mouth he suddenly had.

“100 Tales.” Jake mumbled.

“By Ben Pobjie.” He heard you whisper into his ear. Scaring the ever living shit out of him.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @dempy @abaker74 @a-serene-place-to-be @starkleila @some-lovely-day @phoenix1388 @auroraboreallisfine @avaleineandafryingpan @kikaninchen-2 @kikaninchen-2 @xoxabs88xox

#jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman edit #hangman fic #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine

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frootloopscos · 13 days

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Chapter 1) Runaway

CONTENT WARNING: THERE WILL BE MENTIONS AND DETAILS DESCRIBING CHILD ABUSE, PLEAEE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Panting was heard as a nine year old Yuu ran through the snow, holding their Vulpix close to them. It was dark outside as they ran down the mountain of Lanakila. "I-I'm sorry Vulpix. Don't worry though we'll find help!" They said quietly to the ice type in their arms. "Vul!" She yelled pointing behind them with her paw. Yuu quickly looked behind them and felt their body freeze as their father stood meters away with his Palossand beside him using Physic to hold them in place. Yuu felt hot tears fall down their cheeks, quickly freezing to their face from the frigid air.

"You really thought you could get away from me?" Their father asked as he slowly approached the child with a menacing look on his face. "You will never be able to leave. You worthless piece of s-" he was cut off as he was tackled into the snow by a silver colored fox looking pokemon. "An Eevee?" They asked quietly before turning around and continuing to run, "thank you Eevee!" They yelled fighting the urge to look behind them.

Unfortunately, Yuu didn't get very far before they tripped over their own two feet and plummeted face first into the cold snow falling unconscious.

Yuu groaned feeling as if their head was going to explode from the aching they had. It wasn't cold anymore but warm. They reached a hand up to their head only to hear a shuffling noise and their eyes widened. "What was that?" They asked aloud only to feel pawing at their legs, "Vulpix?" They asked nervously "pix!" Yuu heard in response making them sigh. "Eevee," they heard another creature say and their brows furrowed. "I don't have an Eevee....are you the Eevee who helped us?" They asked while beginning to try and feel around themself. "A box?"

They froze hearing shuffling outside of the box they were in, "what was that?" They asked backing up as much as they could. "I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me. Urgh this kid weighs a ton!" Yuu's heart rate began to increase rapidly as they were unable to see anything, only hearing this mysterious voice from outside. "Try this on for size! Mya-ha!" The voice yelled and suddenly there was a flash of blue flames making Yuu scream in fright.

The door to the box they were inside of opened making Yuu shield their eyes not used to the sudden lighting. "Now to grab the goods," the voice said again making yuu look to where it came from and their eyes widened in shock. "A talking Meowth?" They asked as they slowly got out of the box and looking around nervously as Vulpix jumped into their arms and the Eevee onto their shoulder. "What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!" The meowth yelled in shock seeing the child awake.

Yuu noticed all the coffins in the room and held Vulpix close, "why are there so many coffins?" They asked quietly. "You got a lotta nerve ignoring me, human! The name's Grim! Believe me, you won't forget it! Now gimme your uniform, and be quick about it! Cause if you don't...you're gonna regret it!" The Meowth yelled. Yuu looked around nervously "S-Someone help me!" They yelled making Grim angrier, "hey, come on! I'm on a tight schedule here!" He yelled shooting flames at them again.

Yuu whimpered and quickly bolted from the room, running though several areas that reminded them of a school. Though they had never been inside of one it was very fancy, they came to a dead end inside a library of sorts with floating books all around. "Where am I? Did I loose him?" They asked nervously and quickly hid behind a bookshelf only for Grim to catch up and corner them with a smug look. "Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from me? Now, unless you wanna get burned to a crisp, take off that— Me-YEOW!" He yelped, "That hurt! What gives?" He yelled looking to where he was tied up from.

Yuu held Vulpix close to their chest as her and the Eevee growled at the male. "Consider it tough love. Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid, I trust you're one of this year's new students?" He asked the child, "my, were you ever eager to make your debut. And bringing several familiars with you, one of which being poorly trained? That is a clear violation of the school's rules." He said crossing his arms, "as if I'd serve some lowly human! Now lemme go!" Grim retorted as he struggled in the males whip of sorts.

"Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?" He asked as Grim's mouth was covered in the bindings. "Dear me. Of all the students I've felt with, you're the first with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you? No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the mirror chamber." He said with a smile to Yuu, in return they slowly stepped towards him and asked timidly, "school? I get to go to school?"

"You awakened in a room full of gates did you not? All of the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically the students have restraint enough to wait until I open them before waking up." Yuu nodded slowly taking in the information, "so the coffins are like, portals?" They asked to which the male nodded, "the design is intended to symbolize a parting with your former world, and a rebirth into a new one. But now is not the time for such prattle. You've a student orientation to attend! Go on now, make haste."

"Mister, who are you?" Yuu asked tookign up at the masked male, "have you not fully regained consciousness? I am Dire Crowley, the Headmage of this prestigious academy." He informed and began to explain what Night Raven College was all about to them as they walked back to the Mirror Chamber together. As they approached Yuu heard several voices from beyond the door.

"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments? All right, new students — let me be clear. In the House of Heartslabyul, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!" "Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in the House of Savannaclaw, follow me." "New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of the House of Octavinelle, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience."

A voice then spoke up, "hey, does anyone know where the Headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony. . ." "Some Headmage he is." "Maybe he had a tummy ache?" At this Crowley burst through the door with Yuu hiding behind him, "I most certainly did not!" "Ah, speak of the devil and he will appear." Yuu matched the first voice they heard to a boy with red hair and grey eyes. Crowley put his hands on his hips with a stern look on his face, "if you must know I was searching for the new student who failed to show up for orientation. Now then, you are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror and be quick about it. I will watch your weasel."

Yuu tried to quietly explain that Grim wasn't theirs but Crowley wasn't hearing any of it. They slowly stepped up to the floating mirror and it glowed showing a face inside before beginning to speak, "state thy name." "It's Yuu, I am Yuu." They said to the mirror, "Yuu. . ." It echoed the name, "the nature of your soul is. . . Unclear to me." Yuu felt their eyes fill with tears, they had escaped their awful life and had been given a chance at a new one and they didn't belong here either.

"What did you just say?" Crowley asked the mirror, "I sense no magical power from this one, yet their soul is a mixed combination of every dorm. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate." The students in the chamber began to whisper among eachother as Yuu began to cry. "I-I'm sorry." They said to the mirror as Vulpix pawed at their face to attempt to get them to stop crying. Grim had finally gotten the restrains off of his mouth and gasped for air before yelling, "ME! Let ME have this student's seat! Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! So let me be a student here! Look I'll show you! My spells are the cat's meow!"

The red head from before seemed to get what the cat was saying and yelled out, "everyone, get down!" Grim unleashed his blue flames all over the Mirror Chamber causing the students to all panic and for Yuu to get hit on their back sending them to the floor as they yelled out. Vulpix and Eevee pawed at them worriedly trying to make sure they were okay. "Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!" Crowley commanded and two students accepted the responsibility beginning to chase after Grim. The two managed to back the cat into a corner and the red head cast a spell on him causing a collar to attach around his neck. Unable to use his magic anymore due to the collar.

"Yuu! Was I not clear that you are expected to take responsibility for your familiar?! Now discipline your—" "He's not mine!" Yuu cried now sitting up as the hood fell from their head, revealing their bruised and scuffed up face.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Woooo! First chapter of a new story! And I gotta say, I went hard on this one!

Word count: 1651

Published: April 27th, 2024

Edited: n/a

#twisted wonderland #twst #frootloopscoswrites #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #dire crowley #grim (twst)#twisted wonderland reader insert #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland pokemon crossover #pokemon twisted wonderland crossover #alolan vulpix #shiny eevee

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randompajamaalt · 10 months

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Little Gerrymichael fic.

part one of a series I might start! Not too romantic yet, and pretty much just Michael meeting Gerry for the first time at his new job. Hope you enjoy!

TW for minor swearing! 1334 words, pretty much mindless awkward interaction from Michael’s perspective

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Michael was exited. It was his first day at a new job. An important new job. This was very, very important. He had to know what happened to his friend, and what better place than the institute itself?

But he was also a little bit.. well, broke. So it was important in many different ways that he did well here. If he didn’t go above and beyond, he would surely be thrown out. He’s not exactly special, so if he can’t make himself useful, there’s no point in keeping him around. And it was his first day. So he had to make a good first impression with everyone.

He walked through the front doors of the institute and was greeted by a kind looking woman who was working at the front desk. She introduced herself as Rosie, and they exchanged a few quick words before she handed Michael a badge and told him where he was supposed to go. And he obeyed, heading to the library.

He was amazed by just how many books the institute had, and it looked far bigger on the inside than the outside- but judging by what this place was, that was probably exactly how it worked. And all the books were different. No matter how long he looked, Michael was almost sure he would never find two of the same books- that weren’t some form of evil twins. He shuddered at the thought of that.

And, so, he got to work. He started setting up his things around his new desk, and then looked around. What exactly.. was he supposed to do? He could try organizing them. But the chances of them being cursed and violent were- No. He’s the librarian. He can’t be scared of the books. So, he got up, and looked around- a lot of the material seemed to be normal books. Most of it, actually. History, fiction, weird other genres. There were a few books he didn’t exactly trust yet, so he left those were they were. He also found a few blank books, and threw them into their own category.

Before he knew it, the sun was starting to set. He was about knee-deep in a pile of books and was only about halfway through sorting and labeling them by placing a small color-coded sticker on them. Maybe he would come up with some kind of code for them later, but for now this would do.

He was humming to himself and generally peaceful in the quiet of the library. That was, until he heard the door open. He was sitting behind a bookshelf, so he couldn’t see who entered. He quickly got up, and tried to look, but- there seemed to be nobody there. Maybe he should- say something? He should probably say something.

He had just decided what he was going to say when he heard books being thrown to the ground and incoherent grumbling. “Fuck, where is it.. where the hell did it go?!” Murmured the voice. Michael was confused, and a little scared.

“Uhm- can I help you with something?” Michael said, stepping out from his spot behind a bookshelf. The man who was tearing through the newly organized books was short, and had long black hair. He had a very.. gothic style, and pale skin.

His head snapped back when Michael spoke, and he looked the new librarian up and down. Michael could see about 18 different emotions cross his face before settling on an annoyed look. “Who are you?” The man said, pivoting to face Michael. “I’m- Michael Shelley. The new librarian?” He said, blinking and holding up his badge.

Another few emotions crossed the goth’s face, and Michael could swear he saw pity for a moment before fading back into suspicion. “Did you move the books?” The man said, his voice almost a growl as he glared at Michael. “Uhm- yes? Is that- w-was I not supposed to?” The librarian said, stiff and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

He had shed his cardigan somewhere mid-lunch, and was beginning to regret that decision as the air seemed to suddenly drop in temperature. The ravenette looked Michael up and down again, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, you’re.. Fine. I was just looking for something and now its not here.” He said, now seemingly avoiding eye contact with the man infront of him. Michael copied, glancing at the ground.

“Uhm- Sorry. First day and all..” He gave a sheepish chuckle. “..But, uhm- what were you looking for?” He said, looking back up at the man’s face. “..A book.” The goth said, seemingly.. nervous? Panicking? Michael couldn’t tell as the man’s gaze flickered around the room and he stiffened. “..What kind of book?” Michael said, blinking.

“….Black, pretty plain. No words on the cover. Only, uhm.. Property of The Bookburner on the inside. And.. a lot of other.. stuff. Its got a-“ Michael interrupted quickly, remembering the odd dark book. “Oh! Its got a leather cord wrapped around, right?” He shifted his weight onto his right leg, and back again as he looked at the mysterious goth. “Uhm, yeah. You didn’t read it, did you?” The ravenette said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Oh, no, I just- sorted it into the mysterious diary category. I haven’t gone through those so far, so- it should still be there.” Michael said, realizing that its odd there are so many ‘mysterious diaries’ that he had to make an entire category of it. “Great. So.. where is it?” The goth muttered, and Michael snapped his fingers. “Oh, yes, uhm- right over here.” He said, walking over to a growing pile of books consisting of many different covers and styles and writings, some having literal chains wrapped around them, and some hanging loosely open on immensely private pages that Michael hadn’t read yet. The mysterious ravenette followed him. “There we go. Uhm- I’ll fish it out for you.” He said, crouching down to the pile.

There was no response, so he just.. started looking. It wasn’t long until he found the plain, black leather book with a slightly lighter cord wrapped around the whole thing, just barely held together by messy stitches and covered in odd stains. He pulled it the the pile and held it up to the goth. “Is this the one?” Michael said, standing up. He flinched when the ravenette snatched the book from his hands, opening the book and flipping through it in what seemed to be a mild panic, relief washing over his face as he reached a blank page about three quarters in.

“..So, uhm.. Do you want me to- check that out for you..?” Michael said, blinking in a bit of confusion as he glanced at the goth, then back at the book. The ravenette looked up at him in what almost seemed like confusion, before blinking. “Oh. Uhm.. Yeah. Sorry, there usually isn’t.. I don’t usually have to check it out.” The man said, sheepishly handing the book back to Michael. “Oh, uhm.. Y-Yeah.”

Michael led them back over to his desk, sitting behind his computer and entering the book name- which he had to kind of make up. He decided on Bookburner’s Diary, and looked up at the goth. “So- what’s, uhm.. your name? For the- file.” Michael said, awkardly. “Shit, did I not-? Sorry, uhm.. Gerry. Er- Gerard Keay.” The goth- er, Gerry said, fidgeting with the silver rings on his fingers.

“Oh, uhm- No problem. Now- here’s your book. Bring it back in 7 days or less and you’ll be good.” Michael said, stamping a small corner on the inside cover and handing the book to Gerry, who eagerly took it. “..Bye.” The ravenette said after a few seconds, and then just.. walked off.

Michael blinked, still processing the.. strange interaction. The sun was almost completely set by now, so he collected up what he needed and headed home. He suspected that would not be the last he saw of Gerard Keay and his strange diary.

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I really liked writing this, and I’ll probably make part two soon! A nice break from all the drawings I've been posting, but still TMA. Hope you guys like it :)

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xticklemeemox · 4 months

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The Love You Want: II, Part Three

Final part of II, in The Love You Want.

The pining is astronomical and Vessel has a bad time, as always. To think I said this chapter was gonna be significantly shorter than the others??

The Love You Want: I

The Love You Want: II, Part One

The Love You Want: II, Part Two

Masterlist

Link to chapter on AO3

Word count: 10,156

Mind the tags, as always <3

Word count: 10,156

Fic under the cut <3

Conversation flows more easily now when both are healthy, but Vessel is as quiet as ever, movements limited and gaze low. A particular incident, on one of Vessel's bad days, where II raised his arms too high, too quickly, while stretching, sent Vessel into a panic attack, all six of Vessel's eyes following every minute movement of II's hands. It filled II with rage, to see Vessel cringe back, expecting to be hit. To see the expectation, the acceptance.

II spoke through clenched teeth, reassuring Vessel, pushing sincerity down the bond, trying desperately to overwhelm the sheer hate filling II up to the brim, that he would never, ever hurt Vessel for any reason. They sat there on the floor for hours as Vessel cried, unable to allow II to touch him as he flinched back from every movement, apology after apology as II tried not to let himself cry so fiercely in the face of Vessel's terror, wanting to help him more than anything else. It took time for Vessel to calm down enough, to think past the fear, and let II wipe Vessel's tears as they flowed freely, slipping under the bottom rim of the other man's mask that he placed back on as soon as he slid to the floor in terror. It was one of II's biggest regrets so far, even if he knows it wasn't his fault, that this was the aftermath of everyone who'd ever hurt Vessel coming to the surface. Vessel had cried and cried, so many golden tears it could've filled the altar room twice over, silent sobs through parted lips as Vessel apologized over and over and over for something he never clarified. It broke II's heart to see the other man like this. To have Vessel come to him later that night, arms held close, bleeding as he apologized then, too, with such sad eyes and guilt flooding the bond. II had bandaged his arms up, asked if there were any more, and let Vessel rest his head in his lap as he let II's gentle fingers play with his hair and hum him a tune off-key. Waking up the morning after had been a nightmare for their muscles, stiff from the uncomfortable positions, but it had been worth it to be able to comfort Vessel when the other man had made the first move to receive that comfort.

II learns that Vessel enjoys documentaries and educational books, particularly ones about older architecture and marine biology, and makes it a point to buy the taller man a new one every week as Vessel is quick to consume each one. Vessel runs out of space on his floor quickly, and II finally says enough is enough to the clutter when Vessel trips over a too-high stack of books and slams his forehead into his doorknob as Elvira stares from Vessel's bed with laughing eyes. The noise summons a startled II, who is reassured by Vessel that everything was fine. It was not fine, II thought, but could overlook it since Vessel seemed so genuinely unbothered by the situation with a small smile on his face that melted II's heart to witness.

The next day, II and Vessel come home with a rickety bookshelf they found at a thrift store that II gently bullied, coerced if you will, Vessel into agreeing to buy. It fills quickly with books from each of them, Vessel's educational books and II's classic horror, but also each man's collection of CD's and vinyl's. A month later, and they need another bookshelf, and the second one is much sturdier than the first. II assured Vessel he didn't need to go with him, to the store or inside, but Vessel insisted, and so II led Vessel on a quest to find what they were looking for, holding hands tightly, or letting Vessel hold onto the hem or sleeve of his shirt.

II still has nightmares. At first, both were hesitant to talk about it, but Vessel caved first, to the surprise of both of them. A gentle, hesitant offer was sent down the bond, and II couldn't refuse. Within moments, he was at Vessel's door, holding an irritated Elvira in one arm and his pillow in the other.

Vessel is sorely tempted to eat II's nightmares but fears invading his privacy even further. It feels cruel, to be able to get rid of something so terrible but unable to force himself to do it, no matter how he longs for the taste.

It was the first time Vessel let II rest his head on his thigh. Over time, II goes to Vessel every night, seeking the other man's presence and assurance when II wakes up shaking, sobbing, unable to escape the pain in his chest from the knife sliding in. Vessel holds his hand and rubs circles into his back, both longing to hold one another but well aware that Vessel won't let him close enough. II is as content with what Vessel will allow as he can be when he longs to embrace him, to care for him and show him the affection he deserves. Vessel will read the books II bought him, and II will struggle to stay awake, to listen to the soothing calm of Vessel's voice as he reads the most boring book imaginable. When Vessel's fingers brush along the pointed tip of II's ears, a shiver runs down his spine, the touch like a lightning strike.

In turn, Vessel slowly begins seeking him out when he desperately wants to sleep but is physically unable to, and II lets the other man lay beside him, Vessel's arm pressed against his or his back. Sometimes, Vessel dares to rest his own head on II's thigh, mirroring a position becoming so familiar between them, letting II's calloused fingers card through his hair with such care that Vessel often can't hold the tears at bay.

II has grown used to Vessel appearing out of nowhere, the other man's footsteps and breaths silent, like a ghost wandering the halls. When II is caught particularly unawares on bad days, Vessel appearing will make him jump a foot in the air, and II will spend the next ten minutes reassuring Vessel he did nothing wrong when the man shrinks into himself, arms held close to his chest, gaze low and avoiding, bond slowly closing in on itself.

Some days, Vessel can't bring himself to speak. In the beginning, it was easier. II was sick, and then Vessel was sick, and things were in this weird limbo state of just making sure each other got better. It was easier to speak past the lump in his throat. Then things settled, and they had to learn to truly live around each other. Learning each others tells, what the little changes in expression mean, how best to approach each other on days their moods are bordering on detrimental to their health.

II was the one that made any and all meals. Vessel couldn't cook anything edible even if eating was a daily requirement and so dishes were left to Vessel at the end of mealtimes. II learns with time just where to and not to touch Vessel, and that sometimes, just brushing against the man is enough to shut him down on his worst days. At his worst, on days he can't speak through the weight in his chest that smothers his voice, Vessel needs to initiate contact but only if II assures him time and time again that its alright.

Vessel learns that II is afraid of spiders one morning as Vessel sits on his bed with his lyric journal in hand where II has just left to make himself some tea. A spike of fear travels along the bond right before a choked scream sounds through the manor. Vessel is on his feet and taking the stairs three steps at a time in an instant, shouting for II, desperate, the loudest he's ever spoken. There is a few tense seconds of silence and continued fear from the bond before Vessel hears II call out weakly from the kitchen.

Long strides get him there quickly, and Vessel finds II perched precariously on the island counter, pale and shaking as he points at something on the stove. Three pairs of eyes move separately to try and track what II is seeing and the bottom pair focuses on a small spider to the right of the stove. Its a tiny thing, barely the size of a quarter, and missing a leg. It stared with beady little eyes as Vessel's top pair moves to keep an eye on II's general direction. "I'm going to take it outside. I'll be right back." Vessel says, voice back to being just below talking volume.

He moves forward to pick it up with his bare hands, recognizing that it couldn't do any more harm than bite him. II whimpers, his fear abating only slightly, as Vessel walks past the counter to take the spider out front, releasing it into the foliage.

II clinged to his arm once he got back inside, face buried in the bunched up hood at his collar as Vessel held him as close as he dared. The embarrassed pout II wore was heaven-sent as he mumbled about being sorry and that he's always been afraid of spiders was worth the initial terror that he was hurt. After that, Vessel was the one designated to remove all bugs from the premises to spare II's poor heart.

Vessel's constant anxiety reared its ugly head and Vessel couldn't bring himself to make any noise some days, caught in his past like a fly in a web. He'd move through the house like a ghost, and II learned quickly to figure out what Vessel was trying to say through the vague feelings, almost thoughts, he sent purposefully down the bond.

As winter drew nearer, it became apparent during a week long bout of rain that the house needed more fixing up than they thought. Holes in the roof dripped water into the attic that dropped further drown into other parts of the house.

Vessel is clueless about home repairs, never having once lived in an actual house before his time here. He remembers with some amount of clarity that he has only ever known the small space of apartments, and never anything too big. II was happy to teach him though, having grown up helping his mothers with repairs on their house. Vessel was adorably out of place in the hardware store in town even after insisting he go with II, all fidgety hands and clinging to II's own hand like it was a lifeline.

Together, even through the arduous process of showing Vessel how to fix the roofing and repair holes, they make quick work of fixing up the house properly. The next storm leaves every inch of the interior dry, and finds the attic cleaned to perfection. They leave the space bare for later use if any ideas ever come to mind. The labor is tolerable with company, and Vessel makes a good student, II notes, and says as much to the taller man. The pretty blush and aversion of all six eyes to differing parts of the room is so terribly endearing it makes II's heart flutter.

Vessel wishes with everything in him that every day was peaceful, filled with II's laughter and bright smile. Yet, it is a futile wish when Vessel's mind is a lit fuse that can blow at any moment. Some days he wants to tear off his skin, choke up chunks of his owns sins and be made anew. Some days he wants to end it all and be done with the pain of existence.

Some days, those thoughts win. The bond is shut off and Vessel locks himself away. He learns quickly that he has to wait a little bit after shutting the bond off lest II come knocking with the most desperate, despaired look Vessel has ever seen and his resolve to harm himself crumbles like sand under the weight of II's wide, teary gaze. He never tells Vessel what it is that makes him so upset, and Vessel is too much of a coward to ask.

It's easier to find rest that way, letting himself bleed out and slip into a state of not-death, the only time he ever sleeps. When he wakes, he feels better than before, like he has gotten a full night's sleep for the first time in months. His mind is clearer, thoughts not so self-deprecating. Vessel can't bring himself to do it often, not due to a lack of want or conviction, but merely because every time he wakes up, leaves his room for the first time in days, II is there, waiting for him, so relieved and happy to see him, flooding the bond with it so thoroughly that Vessel couldn't possibly doubt him for those few hours where the other man frets over him, clings to his arm or side as long as Vessel has a hoodie to cover his pulse points. You'd think it would lead to Vessel killing himself more often if only for that fretting, but it fills him with such all consuming guilt that it eats away at his will to dig the knife into his arm and drag.

Now, since they've properly begun worshipping through their music, Sleep will pull Vessel into their realm to translate lyrics and melodies through dreams, or most often, nightmares. It doesn't matter the time of day, whether Vessel is doing something or not, there is no warning, only his vision blurring, head going fuzzy, and then the fall to the ground. Vessel wakes in one of many of Sleep's realms, and the God bombards him with a melody screaming in his bleeding ears, so loud and reverberating through his skull no matter how beautiful. Words flit through his mind, lingering in his vision when he manages to open his eyes. Sleep gets... upset when Vessel is unable to understand what they are trying to tell him, to show him, and will keep him trapped in their realm for as long as it takes.

It scares the shit out of II every time, as there is no warning. At first, the only way II could tell something was wrong was Vessel's bond going fuzzy around the edges and II, concerned, goes searching for him only to find him on the ground, entirely unresponsive but breathing heavily. When II begs Sleep for answers, Vessel's head pillowed in his lap as II strokes his hair away from the mask, the God give a bland answer about offering up lyrics and melodies for worship.

Each time Vessel wakes, frantically searching for a pen and paper to write on, he looks more and more worn out. It worries ii even further when his movements grow slow and sluggish, all six eyes unable to focus on anything. Weeks and weeks of this behavior occur, of Vessel stumbling around the house like a zombie, of new bruises forming when he's not in a safe spot to enter Sleep's realm, the tears and migraines and stiff muscles when he wakes up. Weeks of Vessel slowly losing the ability to focus during practice, and his ability to write takes a steep slide into incoherency.

Vessel is sitting at his piano, frustrated and teary eyed and so, so tired, when Sleep comes for him again, waking in a red forest with a sword in hand. II finds him in the waking world slumped over the keys after the discordant bang startles him from his book.

II lugs Vessel out of the chair and up the stairs to the other man's room, familiar with this process by now. Its mentally exhausting to be so worried and stressed for the other man, and II can't imagine how much Vessel is hiding from him when he is in the waking world.

When Vessel is laid down and properly covered by a blanket, II stands at his bedside, ghosting a hand over his now unmasked cheek, wiping the tears from his top pair of eyes with reverence.

II focuses on the presence of his God at the back of his mind, a steady constant even as distant as they are right now. They won't be distant for long if II has anything to say about it.

"Sleep, we need to talk." II says aloud while simultaneously gripping the bond with their God and tugging.

The furrow of Vessel's brow eases as the God's presence fills the room with a suffocating tension. "Why have you called for me so disrespectfully my Second?"

The myriad of his gods voices feels like being hit upside the head by a brick, instant agony lighting up like fire in his temples.

"My God, Vessel needs to sleep during this. His body can't take much more, and his mind is becoming more frayed."

"His emotions rarely leave sadness! I- I can't really make him smile anymore, he rarely speaks, do you understand what that does to me? To see him like that? What it must be like for him?"

"It's his holy duty to be constantly awake-"

"I don't fucking care about his holy duty! You're killing him!"

"My Vessel will not die from this!" Sleep's voice slams into him and II crumbles to the floor, clutching at the sides of his head, tears springing to his eyes at the heightened agony.

"You may not be killing his body but you are killing his mind! His heart and mind are still human, and humans need sleep. We can't function without it! I thought as the God of Sleep, you would know this!" II manages through gritted teeth, unwilling to bend beneath the weight of their God's displeasure.

"His heart is safe! It is mine-"

"He can't even read his books anymore, can't focus on them, and if he is to stay awake, he needs something to do! He will lose his mind, is losing his mind! Just- Please, please my God, I am begging you, let him rest. I will gladly take on his duty if I must, just- please." II pleads, falling forward to clutch at the sheets beside Vessel, the other man still as the dead except for the rising and falling of his chest.

"I-" the God starts, at a loss for words, "I will take time to think on it. For now, I will allow it this once."

"That is all I can ask for, Sleep." II relents, bitter fury burning within him as his head aches something fierce, "Thank you."

The God leaves quickly, as though escaping II's fury and the man is left to stew in it, staring forlornly at Vessel as he is left to wither to nothing at the hands of one who claims to care but will not grant him things to keep him healthy.

"Why do you continue to needlessly suffer? Why you?" II whispers, placing a butterfly light kiss on Vessel's forehead.

II leaves for only a moment to grab a book, putting some of his own music on quietly as background noise with the radio. Grabbing a blanket and draping it over the both of them once II climbs onto Vessel's bed, II settles in to wait for Vessel to come out of Sleep's realm. A journal and pen sits nearby so the other man can write down whatever he needs to, always waking in a frenzy with the need to write whatever he can remember down. Elvira hops up on the bed and lays at their feet, purring loudly in contentment as she kneads the blanket. Vessel's bond is fuzzy in II's head in a way he's never felt before, and only a small part of II's anger abates at realizing the God kept to their word. Vessel sleeps, truly rests, for the first time since II has known him.

When Vessel wakes, it is with a clearer head than he's had in months. His migraine has eased to something smaller, more manageable and finds the melody his God was trying to show him is remembered far easier. Easier to replicate, to add on to, to make his own.

He wonders why his God allowed him a reprieve from his holy duty. Does not let himself think too far into it, simply grateful for the rest.

Vessel is in love with II.

He knows it with every fiber of his being. Feels it ache it his bones when II holds his hand, skin warm against his own, chasing away the chill in Vessel's fingers. Every breathe inhaled and exhaled is the reverent sigh of II's name, Vessel breathing the other man in like oxygen.

Vessel is in love with II when he leans his head on Vessel's clothed shoulder, brushes the hair back from his face, holds his hand and rubs gentle circles into his palm. Wipes the tears from all six of his eyes and lets his hand linger on his cheek a moment too long, gaze soft in a way no one else's ever has been when looking at someone as worthless as Vessel. II talking with his hands, waving them about to emphasize whatever he is saying, is endearing despite it scaring Vessel sometimes. It is never II's fault, only Vessel's past still haunting him.

II always brings Vessel a coffee, with way too much vanilla and hazelnut creamer just as he likes it, even though he knows that II drinks floral tea's and has no reason to make coffee at all. It is something II doesn't have to do, but enjoys doing for Vessel. The taller man is so unused to someone caring about something as small and simple as his drink preferences that he cried the first time II brought him a coffee in a brand new mug, a golden color with beautiful purple bellflowers painted on it. He dripped tears all over his notebook, completely ruining that page.

Vessel is in love with II when he wraps bandages around his arms and thighs, puts ointment over the smaller cuts on his ankles. When he kisses his knuckles afterwards with such sad eyes that Vessel's guilt consumes him whole, almost makes him want to never bring a blade to his own flesh again just to stop that look but knows he doesn't have the strength, nor the love for himself, to stop.

Vessel is in love with the way II's eyes light up when Vessel sings. He is in love with the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, his nose scrunching more the bigger it gets. Vessel is in love with his laugh, and the way he breathes. In love with the way II dedicates himself to every task. Each and every part of II's life is done with utmost sincerity and full effort.

His drumming is superb, and Vessel is in love with II's love for what he does. He knows every part of his instrument inside and out, hours and hours of dedicating himself to learning and perfecting everything he knows. II has explained it all to him a multitude of times, and Vessel wishes for him to explain a hundred times more just to see the brightness of II's eyes and the grin that splits his face apart so beautifully.

The quiet moments simply basking in one another presence might be Vessel's favorite. II never asks him to speak, or when rambling about one of his interests, never demands he stop talking entirely. He is careful with his movements when he doesn't need to be, and Vessel worries less and less that II will hurt him if he does something wrong. The worry is unfounded in the first place, but Vessel has only ever known hurt.

Vessel is afraid. Afraid to love and be loved in return, despite his initial wish to his God. Everyone he has ever loved has hurt him, and he knows II will not care for him long. Other vessels will be on their way any time now, and II will realize how pathetic Vessel really is. Vessel cannot tell him, will not tell him. What they have now is enough, and there is no world in which II loves him back.

II is in love with Vessel.

His soul longs for the other man, every gentle touch and silent laugh is cherished, memorized and stored in II's heart. Every moment where Vessel is calm, happy enough to sing quietly to II without the barrier of his mask, II falls a little more in love.

Vessel's voice is like a siren call, haunting yet beautiful, pulling II in like a moth to a flame with ease, whether he is singing, speaking, or sobbing. A light in the dark.

II is in love with the way Vessel meticulously arranges every item they've bought for Sleep's altar so everything is evenly placed on the table. Every new candle, every new antique coin that Vessel lays down, is given its own spot where it will stay. The table is lovingly wiped down every week, a golden offering plate they found at a thrift store shined to perfection where Vessel keeps a large white candle surrounded by smaller red candles of differing sizes. The antique candle snuffer always lays right beside it, lined up evenly along the length of the plate. Worshiping alongside Vessel, connecting to their God and letting their essence flow through them as one is closest they get, feeling as though their souls have intertwined. Worship through music feels much the same, and II revels in the smile it brings to Vessel's face, the tranquility to their bond.

II is in love with Vessel's smile, sharp fangs glinting in the light, peeking over his bottom lip with his smaller smiles and bared in full view with his grin's. Every time II managed to bring the light back to Vessel's eyes felt like he had been gifted the universe itself, butterflies flitting around in his chest and threatening to steal the very breath from his lungs.

II is in love with the shy little grin, the pretty little blush, the way his six eyes turn almost to half-moons, that Vessel gets when II compliments him. Vessel is always quick to refute, to change the subject, but the blush remains.

Vessel acknowledges II and the effort he has put into his drumming in a way no one ever has. Not just his drumming, but with everything. II dedicates himself to everything he does and Vessel sees that, has complimented him on it.

Its... its all II ever wanted. And yet, even though II loves him, Vessel is not going to be fixed by that love.

II is afraid.

Vessel has been pulling away from him. He worries he has done something wrong, but Vessel has mastered the art of shutting down the bond, of projecting calm most other times and hiding behind his mask.

Every time the bond is shut off, it's like II's heart has been ripped from his chest. Its agony, but he brought this upon himself, and he would never force Vessel to do anything he didn't want to. So II suffers, trying his best to hide how much it hurts to see Vessel suffering, cherishes every touch, every moment that Vessel lets II care for him. Cherishes the nights where they lay side by side, talking about everything and nothing, arms pressed together and hands held close, II grateful for the contact.

It's all he can ask for.

When Vessel asked to go get more books, picking at the skin on his fingers with a nervous expression, II couldn't refuse him. Vessel, asking to go out in public? There was no chance in the world that II wouldn't take him, even if it was just to feel the other man's hand in his as they drove.

They come up on a small bookstore that Vessel says carries a lot of informational books based on previous visits and II makes sure they're holding hands when they walk in. Vessel sticks close, a silent shadow at his side, as ii leads them to a section near the front with all the informational text, floor to ceiling bookshelves lining the walls. Briefly, II glances at the titles and none of the selections particularly interest him. "Mind if I go to the horror section?" He asks, watching Vessel closely and keeping on eye on the open bond for any changes in emotion.

The panic that flits through Vessel's bond is squashed before II can really get a hold of it, and Vessel is nodding, making a small shooing motion with an equally small smile. II grins back, squeezing Vessel's hand gently before going off to make a quick trip a few aisles down. Vessel was clearly hesitant to be left alone, but he was more familiar with this bookstore and probably felt a bit safer to be left alone as long as II was inside. Even so, II really does come back quickly as the longer he took, the more anxiety strummed over the bond.

When he returns, II gazes up at Vessel with soft eyes as he goes over the summary on the back of some large textbook he was considering buying, blue eyes flitting around the store curiously, hand back in Vessel's.

He ignores the stares, the whispers from the old folk and the giggling of the group of teens nearby, gaze catching on the man re-organizing the items on the back shelf behind the register. Something about him pulls II's gaze back, a faint brush of something in his chest that causes his heart rate to pick up slightly. His hair is a pale blonde, brushing his shoulders in loose curls about like Vessel's did when they first met. When he turns to help an older gentleman, II's eyes focus in on the other man's first, a deep blue like the darkest depths of the ocean, a comparison he knows stems from Vessel's reading choices that II happily listens to him read. They're framed by pretty, long, dark lashes that flutter when the mans eyes suddenly glance up and catch II's, the black of his eyebrow piercing glinting in the artificial lights.

Surprise just barely travels along the bond and Vessel is turning to look at what has caught II's eye. Vessel is enraptured immediately, moving forward with a confidence II didn't know the man possessed.

The book in his hand is placed upon the checkout table as soon as the other customer is finished and has moved away, and II quickly puts his pick down as well. Impatience causes Vessel's fingers to fiddle with each other, nervous energy seeping from his pores and flooding the bond.

Ah, not so confident then, just... eager.

The worker smiles, a beauty mark near the outer corner of his eye disappearing as the action scrunched his face in a cute manner. His greeting is jovial, a bit too loud, and Vessel fights valiantly to hide his resulting flinch.

His nametag is unreadable, and not from a lack of trying on either of their parts, or lack of letters. Both II and Vessel can see the ink penned onto the fresh tag, the little smiley face with a detached hand holding a flower drawn beside the name visible, but the letters themselves are fuzzy, blurred to the point of being incomprehensible.

"You're really pretty." The worker blurts and Vessel's gaze snaps up to find the worker staring at him, eyes wide, hands frozen where they're putting the book in a small paper bag.

Vessel tilts his head, messy hair curling around his mask as he stares through the middle pair of eye holes, his other eyes closed. He looks down at II, who smiles up at him and back at the worker, nudging his shoulder against Vessel's arm. Vessel realizes quickly that the worker is talking to him, and a blush pinkens his cheek beneath his mask, lips thinning to hold back the shy smile.

"Thank you. You're beautiful." Vessel compliments sincerely in return, and the workers whole face lights up.

A grin pulls at his lips, and Sleep's presence roars at the back of their minds, singing their elation at this meeting.

"Thanks. I'm ___. He/they pronouns. And you?" His name fuzzes up, going staticky in their ears.

Vessel ducks his head, averting his gaze, so II speaks up for them. "I'm II, this is Vessel. He/him for me."

Vessel nods in agreement before realizing that wasn't a proper answer, "He/him for me too. Pleasure to meet you."

___ still smiles, taking their strange names in stride and not even seeming to think them odd, or care about the masks. He opens his mouth to speak again, but quickly closes it when a voice calls out to them from the back of the store, upset. "___, what have I told you about chatting up the customers! They're here to buy books and leave! Don't make me tell you again!"

___ hunches into themself, a pretty blush of embarrassment spreading along his cheeks and over his nose. "I'm sorry. I'll get your receipt."

They're a bit more subdued and neither Vessel or II can keep the frowns from their faces. II glances back at the store owner, an older man in a plaid shirt and blue jeans pulled comically high on his waist, with a face as red as a tomato in his anger.

___ hands over the receipt and Vessel takes it, jolting back when their hands meet briefly and a current of electricity zaps his skin. ___ jerks back too, surprised, looking between their hand and Vessel's with the expression of someone whose just come upon a daunting puzzle.

The worker looks back at their boss to see the man still glaring fiercely, and hunches even further into themself, glancing only briefly back at Vessel and II with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, have a nice day! I hope you enjoy the books."

II returns the goodbye with a smile of his own and pulls Vessel along with him out of the store as the other man continues staring at ___. "That was strange. Could you see the letters on his nametag? Did their name go fuzzy when he said it like I heard?" II says, confusion radiating lightly from his side of the bond as Vessel clutches his hand and follows dutifully beside him, a little behind, to the car.

Vessel agrees though he's lost in thought, going over the moment their hands touched again and again and again. Their touch was electric, his blood racing at the contact.

Touching that worker felt like touching II. It felt... right. Like something in Vessel's soul settled, like something slotted into place. A missing puzzle piece.

Vessel comes back to himself when they reach the car, the receipt crinkling in his hand when he sets the books down on the floorboard. Taking out the receipt to check the prices of the books, Vessel sees something drawn on it with pen and yellow highlighter.

"II, what flower is this?" Vessel asks quietly, holding the receipt out to show the other man.

II pauses from where he was putting the car in reverse, Slipknot playing quietly over the speakers and turns his head to get a good look at the flower. "A... tulip maybe? I'm not sure. I don't know a lot about flowers, I'm sorry. Did the cashier draw that? Its surprisingly detailed considering- where are you going? Vessel?!"

Vessel is opening the car door as II is pulling out of the parking spot, running back inside as II calls after him. The bell over the door jingles and the cashier turns to look with an air of confusion as Vessel ducks his head, speed walking over to the section he remembers had books on plants. Scanning them quickly, Vessel pulls out one about the language of flowers, receipt from before still clutched in his hand. Those same hands shake from the anxiety, but he has to do this. He wants to do this. Needs to.

The bell on the door rings again as II enters, finding Vessel at the register again and walking to his side with a questioning look in his eyes. He smiles at the cashier as they grin back, already ringing up the book on flowers.

"This flower, what is it?" Vessel holds out the first receipt as the cashier smiles, drawing something on the second, newer one.

"A tulip. This is a clematis." They smirk, a little mischievous thing as he uses a pink highlighter to color it in.

"You know a lot about flowers then?" Vessel asks, feeling emboldened by the wry smile.

"A bit, yes. You'll have to figure the meanings out yourself though." They challenge, and Vessel narrows his middle set of eyes in acceptance of that challenge.

II huffs a laugh at Vessel's side, never having seen him so bold out in public. II's hand in Vessel's is warm, soothing his nerves. More customers come in, the bell over the door ringing, and ___ apologizes but says they have to get back to work. When he hands over the receipt, there is a new flower with its name written next to it, the clematis. Vessel smiles, thanking him with a pretty little smile that II adores. II glances to the side, seeing the owner of the store staring irritatedly at the pretty cashier.

II drags Vessel out of the bookstore, even though he, too, wants to stay. Wants to ogle and conversate and discover why they're both so drawn to him. Sleep's excitement is palpable as they drive away, a heady thrum through their bones.

Vessel and II go back to the bookstore the next week only to find the worker not there at all. After the disappointment of that settles in, they decide to keep going back for the next few days at differing times to see if it was just a fluke, but the pretty blonde never shows up again. Vessel quickly loses the meager amount of courage he'd scrounged up to leave the house that often and goes back to following II around closely, a hand fisted in the other shirts as he keeps close in stores.

It was peaceful, something of a routine they'd established over the months. Following practice, they always sat in the living room on the dingy couch they'd found on the side of the road a couple months back, reading or listening to music in their own little bubbles. It was comfortable and safe, even on Vessel's bad days.

Almost a month later, things take another turn towards change.

Practice over for the day, II and Vessel were putting away their respective instruments, II checking over his drumset for any damage and Vessel storing away his guitar and mic stand. The black of their skin was slowly seeping away, down into the charcoal on their arms. II was admiring Vessel's muscles, despite the bandages, arms bare for the moment since Vessel likes to challenge himself on his vocal control by doing some moderate workout exercises and singing at the same time, and gets too hot in his usual layers.

Sleep's voice echoing through the room was a surprise, the Gods presence coming back full force, having been distant for well over a months time now.

"The third vessel will be here within the week. Their death draws near."

"Already? I've only been here for a bit under a year." II frowns, a little sad that another would be joining so soon.

He loves what he's made with Vessel here at home. Another person would disrupt the routine. Well, if they're a vessel chosen by Sleep, they'll likely get along well. II likes to think he and Vessel do. Perhaps another won't be so bad.

"Yes. You will like them, I'm sure of it." Sleep is giddy, their voices surrounding them with a gentleness they don't usually strive for.

Vessel smiles, strained, bond coming across distant and unfocused. II lets his worry pulse once, twice, in question and frowns at the lack of a response. Sleep leaves them be, their excitement still strumming gently over the bond they all share long after they've left.

Vessel won't let II touch him, after that. The sudden cutoff of any physical contact is like torture and II doesn't understand. Where once Vessel would lean into II's hand when he brushed it lovingly over his shoulder as he passed, Vessel was pulling away. Where Vessel would let II run his fingers through his hair and lightly down his back while they sat together on the couch doing their own thing, Vessel never even sat on the couch at all. He simply grabbed a book off the shelves they'd put in the living room and left. II can't hide the hurt at seeing Vessel walk away from him, without even turning his head in II's direction.

Vessel won't speak to him, not even a whisper or a hum of acknowledgment, just... completely ignoring II in a way he never has before. Its killing him. Killing them both, for Vessel to be doing this. Pulling away and isolating himself is causing damage on both ends.

Avoiding some touch and most conversation for a day or two was completely normal for Vessel, and II genuinely didn't mind, understanding that the other man needed space but this? It was the fact that Vessel started avoiding II after they got news of a third vessel that was worrying him. Vessel didn't come to II's room to lay together while II slept, and the door was shut and locked when II went to Vessel's room.

The sight of the door closed at all, not left open a crack as an invitation, was telling enough... but locked as well? II purposefully sends his worry and his question and confusion across the bond and is met with it being shut down entirely. II heads back to his room, dejected and trying not to cry at the rejection.

Vessel leans against his door and waits for II's footsteps to recede before sliding down to rest his head between his knees. Its better this way, he tells himself. He's just limiting the contact so it doesn't hurt as badly when II leaves him for another, for someone better. Someone not so broken.

He repeats it, trying to convince himself even as the vines on his walls shudder and writhe in pain, over and over and over again as sobs suffocate him, muffled under his mask, as Vessel feels II's bond radiate confusion, so much hurt. Tries his hardest to ignore how badly he is hurting II, how much he hates doing this to the other man.

He digs a knife into his arms, his thighs, along the expanse of his hips and breaching the skin over his stomach just to feel something other than the agony of doing this to II. Of doing this to himself, denying himself the chance to be loved because all he's ever known is his loved ones hurting him.

Vessel only knows how to pull away, to distance himself and act as though he doesn't exist. It is what he has always done, its all he knows. It keeps him safe. He can't be hurt if there is no one around to hurt him.

This new person is going to change everything. Everything. II is going to have someone new to hang around, someone not so useless. Not so pathetic. Worthless. He's going to realize that there is new company to keep, and toss Vessel away like he was worthless. (He is.) Its how they all leave him in the end.

If he pushes II away first, maybe it won't feel like he was ripping his heart out again, like it does now.

Hours later when Vessel finally feels II's bond go fuzzy with sleep, he feels something else almost immediately. Fear.

He makes his way out of his room to II's, silent as a wraith. II's door is open a foot or so in invitation, Vessel realizes with a ghost of a smile, and the hinges barely creak as Vessel squeezes inside. II stirs in his bed, curled up around his pillow, face scrunched up in distress as Vessel feels a nightmare clawing at his mind. Vessel wipes away the single tear that falls from II's eye, letting his hand linger a moment longer than he should've. II is beautiful in the dim light of the moon through the curtains, thick eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

Vessel is in love with him. So completely and utterly in love with him. He always was one to fall fast and deep, and it fucked him over every time. He wouldn't know what a good relationship looked like, even if II loved him back. Vessel was too fucked in the head, too damaged even if he can't remember the faces or the names of the people who did this to him. What they did has stuck to his very soul, it couldn't be cast away with his new birth as a Vessel for his beloved God. Everything they said, every snide or degrading comment, every injury, burned into his brain, into every atom. They took what they wanted, and left him fractured in the aftermath. His past, even now, was eating him from inside.

II leans further into Vessel's hand, and he holds his breath, afraid he woke II up. II doesn't open his eyes, his breathing remaining even, and Vessel allows himself to let that breath go. Indulging himself further, something he only truly allows when he and II are in bed and II finally falls asleep, Vessel traces the curve of the other man's cheekbone with a reverence that is bone deep. Carefully, he follows the curve of II's jaw then back up over the hairs of his eyebrows, trying to memorize everything about him.

Finally, Vessel rests a palm against his temple, clawing feather light against II's skin, being so gentle, so careful as to not hurt him. Then, he pulls. The nightmare follows the action, swirling, oily black caught in his claws. Anxiety makes its home in Vessel's gut, but he follows through after the creases between II's eyebrows smoothes out, the fuzzy hurricane of distress over the bond calming to tranquil waters.

Vessel lifts up the nightmare, careful of his sharp teeth and swallows it whole. The taste of something not quite divine, something more bitter, settles in his stomach like a leaden weight, but Vessel longs for more.

He blinks, and between one second and the next, the scenery has changed. No longer is he in II's room, but downstairs in the foyer. It isn't what Vessel was expecting. He was expecting to be laying down in a dingy alley, bleeding out, just as II had died. Like the nightmare he'd eaten before.

Instead, he moves forward as II, long strides with short legs, frantically calling out for Vessel himself. In his chest, there is nothing. His heart is racing, but there is a void, like something is missing. He shoves open every door in the bottom area before moving to the stairs. The vines grab at his feet, wrapping around his ankles and pulling, trying to slow him down, stop him. Panic has lit every atom on fire.

Vessel's room is empty, completely bare. He isn't there. He moves to the altar room next and it is there that Vessel, no, II, finds Vessel. Vessel stands in the middle of the pitch black altar room, something wet under his feet. A candle flickers, flame burst to life, and the floor shines red. He trails his gaze up Vessel's form, blood staining the cuff of his jeans, dripping down his arms as a knife hangs loosely in his hand.

Vessel looks up and II is caught in his gaze. He isn't wearing his mask, all six lifeless eyes crying golden tears. His posture is stiff and tense, like a body without a soul, a dead man walking.

"Vessel?" II's voice speaks, the sound coming from his own mouth and he can't breathe, he can't-

His breaths come out in short pants as he stumbles forward on shaking legs, arms outstretched, hovering just before they touch Vessel. Eyes wild, he speaks again when Vessel doesn't answer.

"Vessel, are you-"

Vessel brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, a finger placed over his lips to shush II, tilting his head in the process. A large smile splits across his face, baring fangs. He stops talking immediately at the gesture, tilting his head in turn, tears gathered in his eyes. Blood drips steadily down Vessel's arm in concerning amounts, lost in the sea of blood around him as it hits the floor.

The tears fall as Vessel turns, one arm dropping and the other raising, back facing II.

Vessel brings the knife up to his throat and II lunges forward with a shout, but his feet won't move. He is stuck, forced to watch as Vessel touches the skin of his neck with the sharp tip of the knife and drags.

He crumbles, inky black gushing from the open wound-

Vessel is brought back to himself with a start, the claws of his hand still laid on II's skin but not digging in, thankfully.

II turns his head in his sleep, a peaceful expression on his face so contradictory to the maelstrom of emotions on Vessel's own visage, and Vessel jerks back as though burned, skin tingling where they touched.

II's nightmare... it- it was about him. About him dying.

As silently as he arrived, Vessel leaves, everything in the room as it was before, like he had never been there in the first place. His door clicks shut behind him, and Vessel stands there for what could have been eternity but was only minutes.

II can never know what Vessel does to ease his tired mind overgrown with weeds of self-hate. Never.

II, woken by something he couldn't name, pads down the hallway in his socks and comes to stand outside Vessel's still shut door. He reaches for the handle with bleary eyes, sleep addled brain not quite caught up to the days earlier events.

II's hand hovers over the doorknob as the seconds pass by, before he turns, frowning, and shuffles back to his own room with a look of utter devastation upon his countenance.

Vessel hears him come and go, some small part of him, a small part he beats down violently, longing for II to have turned the knob... Vessel hadn't locked it behind him, this time.

II manages another day of this behavior before he breaks under the weight of his longing and confusion and desperation. Sleep had come to them again, separately as Vessel has been quick to leave the room when II enters, and informed them that the third would arrive tonight. II acknowledges this and goes to fix up the room. They'd bought any furniture they deemed necessary and brought it all back to the house, though they'd left the bedsheets for last, intending to put them on right before the vessel actually arrived. That was the worst car ride of II's short life after his rebirth. It was silent the entire time, even at the store. Vessel couldn't, or perhaps wouldn't, speak to him and only nodded or shook his head. He refused II's hand when offered and held his arms close as if to protect himself the entire trip through the store, head bowed low and bond shut off. It was like torture, to be so physically near but denied the right to comfort the taller man, denied his voice, and feel so far away at the same time.

Vessel would wince through every action that required him to use his arms or bend and it worried II to an extreme, but Vessel would not speak to him. Would not look at II when he asked, so gentle, if he needed his arms bandaged again. If he was hurt anywhere else.

Not once since Vessel began ignoring him did he remove his mask. He kept it on at all times, so II could never see his expression, knowing it would bare Vessel's true feelings to him with one glance, as expressive as the man is.

Entering the room that would become the thirds, II finds the bed already made. Vessel must have already done it, since there was no one else who could have.

A smile pulls at II's lips for a moment before it falls. He misses Vessel. Greatly. So he goes searching for him, heart in his throat.

II finds Vessel a bit into the forest, The Language of Flowers book opened as he crouches in front of some wild flowers. He places a makeshift bookmark, a leaf, inside and then stands to stretch. II sees the deep scratches along Vessel's hips when his shirt rises, red and irritated with dried blood still caked around some of the edges, but not deep like the scars on his arms.

"Vessel, we need to talk." II says, trying to keep his voice even so as to not startle Vessel too badly. "And, please, let me bandage those. If you won't let me, please, please do it yourself.

He knows announcing his presence with his voice is better than touching Vessel without warning, but still feels terrible for the way Vessel jumps, hunching over and making himself as small as someone of his stature can.

He turns slowly, head bowed, bond radiating unsurety. Vessel forces himself to look up, exhausted, wondering if II was finally going to call him out, finally get angry like Vessel had been expecting him to this entire time. II's side of the bond is a mix of exasperation and gentle reassurance. His bond could be a lie, Vessel tells himself. Vessel could lie through the bond, though he hasn't really been doing it as much. There is no point when II is becoming easily able to see through him anyway, and it fills him with guilt. Cutting off the bond entirely works better for him.

Vessel shakes his head in response, refusing but still unwilling to speak, arms coming to wrap around his middle in a mockery of a hug, the book pressed uncomfortably into his ribs.

"Please Vessel, I want to talk. I want to know why you've been avoiding me. Its killing me! Did I do something wrong? You only have to tell me and we can try and fix it!"

Vessel shakes his head frantically, wrought with guilt as he moves towards the house. He never wanted II to think any of this was his fault. Its Vessel's. Always Vessel's.

"It's not you."

II's eyes soften at the the low murmur of Vessel's voice, hoarse from disuse.

"Something with you then? That's alright. We can try to work past whatever it is. I know you've been distant since Sleep told us of the third vessel. Things won't change between us if that's what you're worried about!"

Vessel's metaphorical hackles raise, and he flinched as though struck.

II hit the nail right on the head, and Vessel panics, lashing out in a way he never has before.

"Do you think you're going to be some sort of savior? Doing all these things for me? Being so kind and understanding? Save the pathetic man who hurts himself whenever he's upset because he's too weak to deal with his emotions in a non-destructive way?" Vessel spits defensively as he backs away towards the porch, and immediately regrets it by the panic in his eyes that flashes like a lightning strike over their bond.

"I'm not here to be your savior, Vessel! You deserve to have good things! You deserve to be loved!" II's bond radiates sincerity and that makes Vessel even more upset, turning to face away from II.

"I don't deserve anything! Everyone I knew made damn sure I knew that with every atom in my body. They beat it into me all my life so I'd never forget and I haven't- I can't forget. Please, II, I just want to be left alone." The lie tastes like ash on his tongue, but he won't take back what he said, he refuses to.

"I'll spend the rest of my eternity as a vessel proving to you that I care for you if that's what it takes. I would lay the world to waste at your feet if you asked it of me. I'll leave you alone for now, as you wish, but do not expect me to stop caring for you, to stop loving you."

"You- you... you love me?"

"I do. With every piece of my heart and soul."

II smiles, a sad thing, because he can feel Vessel's emotions through the bond right now. Can feel the other man's love in return and it makes II's heart sing. It makes II's heart wither to nothing at the fear, the resignation, the self loathing that soon overpowers that love. II wants to cry when the bond shuts off, when Vessel's mouth closes with a resounding click, and the other man turns and walks away without a word. The front door slams behind him even as II calls after him desperately but receives no answer, scrambling to follow.

The foyer is dark despite the afternoon light outside, vines writhing along the walls agitatedly. They move away from his feet before he has a chance to trip over them as he climbs the stairs quickly, devastated as plants brush his feet and ankles so gently, like a lover's caress. Vessel is in his room in seconds, every vine in the hallway converging over his door, completely blocking II from entering.

II should've known this would happen... he- he shouldn't have said anything. II covers his face with his hands, sliding down the wall opposite Vessel's door, trying in vain to choke back the sobs tearing from his lips, heart aching in his chest like someone was actively squeezing it.

Vessel ignores II when the other man tries to speak to him as Vessel leaves his room hours later. He smells of blood, a hoodie cinched around his throat hiding most of his skin from view with the help of a pair of black jeans. II follows Vessel through the house silently, giving up halfway down the staircase as he realizes where they're going. II, wondering desperately if he could fix this before they met up with third, doesn't realize he's forgotten his jacket until the chill of the late spring air sends shivers straight down his spine.

They walk in silence as Vessel's stride keeps him just out of II's reach, the bright shine of the moon above like silver through Vessel's hair. When II's teeth start chattering from the sudden cold, body already getting used to the warmer days as spring transitions slowly into summer, Vessel removes his hoodie and hands it over to II without a word. II stammers out a refusal, shivering still, Vessel stops walking entirely, turning to face II with a mouth set in a grim line, hoodie held out with an air of stubbornness.

II's gaze is caught on Vessel's covered arm, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he is the cause of the new wounds Vessel etched into his flesh. Vessel shakes the hoodie to bring II's attention back to it, and reluctantly, II takes it. He slips it over his head, the sleeves far too long, and it smells like iron and home, like spilled coffee and vanilla and whatever shampoo Vessel uses. It smells like Vess and II wants to cry.

Vessel turns and continues walking, bond a dark void that is swallowing up II's heart, and soon enough they're nearly to the veil between Sleep's realm and the rest of the world. Right at the edge lays a body, weak arms struggling to push themselves up. A mask is clutched in hand, loose blonde curls hiding their face from view.

Vessel pauses in his stride, tilting his head as realization dawns on him slowly. II continues ahead with the intention of helping the third up, but he too pauses once he gets a good look, squinting unsurely before a smile breaks across his face. Sleep's excitement is overwhelming, thrumming with anticipation, and Vessel can barely think past it.

The third looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps and the first and second vessel are met with eyes like deep ocean waters, with a little beauty mark near the outer corner.

Its the worker from that bookstore they'd met before. The one they were so drawn to.

They're the third vessel.

(Yes, I did in fact make them walk to meet III. Its tradition now. I don't care that they own a car. Its pre-transformation bonding time 🔫

Not that yall will notice, or can, depending on what site yall use, I purposefully made the _ three in number each time I used it. ;)

Tulips mean 'there's sunshine in your smile" and clematis flowers can stand for "mischief". Use this as link for reference. https://hortnews.extension.iastate.edu/flowers-and-their-meanings-language-flowers

Time for III hehehehe)

#sleep token #ii x vessel #ii sleep token #vessel sleep token #sleep token sleep #fanfic #polyvessels #poly sleep token #poly!vessels

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mandrakebrew · 6 months

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Show Me the Place Where your Words Come From

Words: 1,424 Rating: General Content Warning: oc x canon

In retrospect, Dr Palmer should have counted themselves lucky that the city's library had a couple books on Hungarian. One on learning the language, and another on it's history. They asked the librarian if any others were checked out, and none were. So they checked out what was there, and headed out.

Their next stop was the bookstore they frequented. The store didn't have anything, but Palmer asked the owner if he could get them some books on the language, and some magazines and catalogues too, if possible. The owner said he'd try.

After they started gathering resources, they realized a slight problem. One of their commanders bad habits was snooping around. Their home was no exception. They'd caught him once, and found some items of theirs moved around in their drawers. If they wanted the surprise to actually be a surprise, they'd have to get clever.

Fortunately, at least for this instance, they grew up in a home where they needed to keep things hidden, so it was a well developed talent. Putting them inside something with a lock wasn't a good idea. Might as well put a big sign that said 'Look in Here!' above it. Palmer could ask Para-Medic to keep them at her place, but having to explain what they were doing made them want to avoid that option.

Drawers, and cabinets were also a no go. Putting them under their mattress was almost laughably bad. However…

They slid themselves under the bed, pushing some boxes out of their way. They took the knife they keep in their pocket and cut a slit almost a foot in length into the fabric under the box spring. Then they placed the books onto the wooden frame inside.

The hiding spot worked for two years.

Palmer found a couple co-workers who were native speakers as well. Which was fortunate since they pointed out just how bad the doctor's pronunciation was. Those conversations were had when Palmer was sure Skull Face was nowhere in the building. Quickly silencing a conversation with someone when he walked in the room would never look innocent. They'd have to spoil the surprise, otherwise their commander would assume the worst of the situation.

Alas, it got spoiled not because of Skull Face's snooping, or having caught Palmer in a hushed conversation, but because the doctor couldn't help getting distracted.

They'd wandered into their bedroom after taking a bathroom break from studying. They noticed their books no longer fit on their bookshelf, and were decided which ones to get rid of. They got so focused on this task that they failed to notice the sound of the front door opening.

Eventually, they remembered what they'd been doing, and returned to the living room. Only to find their commander sitting on the couch, looking at the study materials spread about the coffee table.

Palmer now only slightly regretting giving him a key and telling him to come over whenever he wanted.

The commander had his back to them, and didn't seem to know they'd walked back into the room, so they stayed quiet. Skull Face currently flipping through one of their notebooks. He then traded it for one of the catalogues Palmer had. They got it for translation practice, and to see pictures of Hungarian homes.

They took a few more moments simply to watch, enjoying the novelty of sneaking up on him for once. Eventually they walked around the couch and into his line of sight. “I meant for it to be a surprise.” They explained.

If Skull Face was startled by their sudden appearance, he didn't show it. “You're learning Hungarian.” A statement, not a question.

“Yeah, I just thought…” Their commander was their lover, yes, but he was also their friend. One of, if not the only, person they could truly be themselves around. He made them feel safe for once. While they both shared knowledge of English and German, the doctor felt it was unfair they could never speak in his mother tongue. They knew nothing of it, and he'd lost most of it growing up. Another tragedy from a long list in Skull Face's life.

“I wanted us to be able to speak in your mother tongue, not just mine.”

“How long have you been working on this?” His voice had gone quiet to the point they almost missed what he asked.

”Két év, gondolom?“

The commander just stared at them in response. Did they say it wrong? Was their pronunciation off again? Did he not understand what they said?

Before they could ask anything though, Skull Face cleared his throat. He dropped the catalogue he'd been holding onto the table.

“Excuse me, there's something I need to attend to.”

”What? You just got here.“

”Yes, but I just remembered it.“ He responded as he got the door. He still had his hat and jacket on so he quickly left the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

Palmer started wringing their hands. Did they offend him? Was this whole thing an overstep? A mistake? Should they try to call him later tonight or wait until work tomorrow to talk?

Palmer looked at the materials on their table. They should probably put those away now.

As he walked back towards his home, Skull Face tried to process what the hell just happened. He wasn't used to it, people just being kind him, at least not without some hidden hook. Not since his childhood which he now barely recalls. This though, goes beyond kindness. They spent all that time… Doing something for him?

Skull Face was a man of action, he was rarely swayed by talk. It was too easy to say one thing and then act another. So being told the words, “I care about you,“ or ”you're important to me,“ didn't mean a whole lot to him.

Actions however, were harder to ignore. There was hard evidence in front of him that the doctor cared about him.

He cleared his throat again, and breathed in sharply. His vision began to blur, and his eyes stung. Skull Face shook his head and started walking faster towards his home.

They didn't speak again until lunchtime the next day. Palmer could barely focus on work, absentmindedly doing paperwork. The morning had been calm was well, making it drag on even more.

Finally, they heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” If it wasn't their commander, the doctor was going to have an anxiety attack.

”Afternoon, Doctor,“ Thankfully for the doctor, Skull Face opened the door and came inside.

”Ah, Commander,“ They forced a smile, trying to keep control of their nerves.

”My apologies, for the interruption last night.“

”It's alright, I'm sure it was out of your hands." Him needed to go do something was an obvious lie, they knew that. In fact they were sure Skull Face knew they knew that.

They moved the conversation away, "Anything interesting happen this morning?“ They'd complain about their day, but they knew better than to complain about a slow day in the medical field.

”I had a meeting with the major, not much else.”

“Oh? Anything you can tell me?”

“It's confidential, I'm afraid.”

The doctor made a fake pouting face at him, before letting it drop, ”Ah well, I trust you know what you're doing.“

The XO wondered if they meant 'you' as a collective. Or just him.

There was a tense silence after that, before they both spoke at the same time, the elephant finally being acknowledged.

”Doctor-“

”Listen-“

The both stop again, then the commander gestures for Palmer to continue.

”I didn't mean to upset you, if that's what happened.“

Upset? Is that how they took his reaction? Then again, how else were they supposed to take it?

”You didn't,“ He paused, ”I appreciate the thought.“

That's a relief, though they were still confused as to his… Theatrics.

They'd been so caught up in worrying that they'd damaged their relationship somehow, they never considered that his reaction might be a positive one. But the more they did think about it, the more it made sense. He'd gone so long without kind gestures that he'd simply didn't know how to respond. An abused dog that cries out when pet.

”Szívesen, commander.“ They smiled at him. ”Now that's it out in the open, maybe you can help me study.“

”I'm still learning it myself, you know.” He reminded them.

“Well then, we can help each other study.”

An excuse to spend more time with the other, not that they really needed one.

A/N: Két év, gondolom = 2 years, i think Szívesen = You're welcome

#HERE TAKE IT I'M SICK OF LOOKING AT IT #mine #my writing #ship: phantom lovers

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percydarling · 1 year

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My Pride and Joy

Chapter 2: Arthur

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye You were bigger than the whole sky

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

Molly slams the door in his face. The other kids are holed up in the twins room, murmuring among themselves, saying what, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he made a big mistake.

He hadn’t meant to drive Percy away, all he wanted was to caution his son against becoming a pawn. However, Arthur had lost himself when Percy decided to accuse him of being an ‘ambitionless fool who had led his children to poverty’

All he had seen was red at that moment and blurted out all the things he shouldn’t have said to his son. When arguing with Percy, it hadn’t felt like a fight with his son, rather a fight with one of his brothers’ or peers’. That had shocked Arthur.

He didn’t treat Percy as a son. He treated him as he would treat one of his co-workers.

He makes his way to the couch, readying himself mentally for the uncomfortable night ahead and hoping his back doesn’t hurt him in the morning.

Arthur wishes he felt guilt for what he had done but he didn’t. He did regret saying what he said to Percy but not enough to owl Percy and beg him back.

Arthur would not beg .

He sinks his body into the couch, the sensation of uncomfort crawls over him making his body hurt. He can’t. He cannot lie here, instead he sits up and stares blankly outside the window.

A son. Arthur did treat Percy as his son, hadn’t he? He’d done his best with Percy, didn’t he? With Bill and Charlie it was easier, they were childish and immature in the sense that had mellowed over the years, yet they still could get up to mischief and require their dad scolding them to bring them back to their senses.

But Percy was just so mature, for his age! At any age really, bloody hell sometimes he made Arthur feel like a child! Him, a 40 year old man for Merlin’s sake!

It was..it was different .

During the war, the first one that is (because Arthur knows, he knows there is going to be another one, Dumbledore is right there has to be) Arthur was fighting, fighting for his family, for Molly and for his kids and his brothers and then he was grieving, grieving for his friends and for his brothers.

So many people died, so many innocents, so so many.

Arthur wasn’t the same after the war. Not the same person he was when he was with Bill and Charlie. The same with Molly because she too had been changed by the war, orphaned but not familyless, never familyless.

He didn’t have a chance with Percy. By the time Percy had seen him for the first time, he had learnt to walk, learnt to talk and Merlin he could talk! Arthur had never heard a toddler speak so fluently and that too with such a large vocabulary. He wanted to know Percy but then there were the twins and Ron and Ginny..

And that’s not an excuse. Arthur reprimands himself. It wasn’t fair to Percy, he wasn’t fair and it hurt him that he wasn’t as close to his third son like the others. It burns him from the inside.

He slowly gets up from the couch, adamant on not making any noise. Ginny’s a light sleeper, (especially after the diary incident), once she’s awake, she refuses to go back to sleep, the dark circles under her eyes keep increasing day by day.

He climbs up the stairs as softly as he can, skipping the step that creaks ( he had intended on getting that fixed, must have slipped his mind) and on the landing, all doors are shut except for one.

He must have forgotten to shut his door.

Arthur steps inside, the window overlooking the backyard where the hen coops are placed. It’s not a very large room. Suddenly, the house that had seemed so huge feels very very small in this space.

He sits on the bed, staring at the bookshelf that now seems half empty, 2 rows empty and the third row with half of the books filling it. Of course, he took his books, what would he do without them? Why did Percy hole himself up here all the time? It’s a ridiculous question to ask. Arthur knows why or he can make a decent guess - escape.

To a boy who grew up shielded from the terror, hiding from the world, maybe escape is all he can yearn for.

Arthur cracks a smile, he doesn’t reflect on the fight or words he’s spewed about. He had a fight! With Percy! In a roundabout wrong sense of the word (“Arthur have you gone mad?!” Molly scolds in his head) it feels good to fight with Percy.

He has never fought with Percy, Percy never made a mistake that he had to punish him for. Never. Percy was bloody perfect, the pinnacle of ‘the perfect diligent child’. Even Bill had caused trouble before that had Arthur fuming! As he fought with Percy, it had made him feel like Percy was his child because whatever the kids may believe about Molly being the one with the temper, they got it from Arthur, the red flaming taste of anger, yes that was all Arthur.

It had made him feel so excited and pumped up because he was fighting with Percy, Percy of all people!

And it shouldn’t.

It definitely should not make him feel alive and feel like he’s energised and wants another go at someone. It should not and in the morning, he’ll regret thinking that. He’ll regret it when he’s thinking straight, he’s driven his son out of his home.

Exiled him. That’s too big of a word to use but it fits the situation.

He lies down on the bed, it’s comfortable and warm. It’s Percys’.

Suddenly all that about feeling good vanishes as he hugs Percy’s pillow close to his chest and cries as softly as he could. Clutching the pillow, just so he could have something of Percy’s in his hands, he’s not sure how long before he could hug his son like this.

What had he done?

#percy weasley #percy weasley fanfic #percy weasley centric

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black-diamond1329 · 7 months

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⭐ Name: Sandra, but you can tell me Sandy 😉.

⭐Age: I feel like I'm 15 years old, I stopped counting at 19 and my friends say that I act like I'm 5 years old XD hahaha ... Nah! I just turned 23 years old this August n_n.

💔 Occupation: Being a universitary girl XD ... Yes! It's so fun! (sarcasm).

🩷 Some things that I love it: Read (I read all kinds of books and about my favorite ships on Ao3! 🤭), cook desserts, listen to music while I do other activities like my homework or when I read, Greek mythology (The love between us will never die! 💗).

⭐Saint Seiya (or Knights of the Zodiac). I found this beautiful serie when I was 7 years old. My favorite is the original serie, although I also like the Lost Canvas a lot and Episode G (because Aioria is the protagonist). Soul of Gold gives me mixed feelings. From Omega and Next Dimension, better don't ask me; my mind lives in denial. My favorite characters are the Golden Saints, especially Aioros and Aioria, being Aioria my super favorite.

Thanks to Saint Seiya I developed a great love for the stars 💫 and I have many scientific books on the subject, as well as books of myths and legends about the constellations ✨.

💥 I'm a Marvel Girl. I love those tormented superheroes and antiheroes. I basically grew up watching Marvel since Iron Man came out in 2008 and I immersed myself fully in the world of the comics, I have a lot of comics and books on my bookshelf 🤭. My favorites are: Iron Man ♥️, Captain America, Spider-Man, Loki, the X-Men, Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, in all their presentations and with all their charms and defects!.

🍿Series: Friends, Full House, The big bang theory, How I met your mother and How I met your father, Modern Family, Mom, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel... I love it K-Dramas like Goblin: The lonely and great God, Crash landing on you, Tale of the Nine Tailed 😋, I have also watched many animes like Sailor Moon, Ouran High School Host Club, Toradora, Code Geass, Inuyasha, Kaleido Star, Shaman King, Attack on Titan... it's a long list and I don't remember everything at this moment 🤔. Miraculous Ladybug (I know it's for kids, but ... there is Chat Noir 🖤).

🐉In my House of the Dragon era 🖤: Like many people, I was also terribly disappointed with the horrible ending of Game of Thrones, but I really loved Fire and Blood when I read it in 2020... so I decided to give the serie a chance when I saw the first trailer... and I don't regret it! 🥳. I liked Daemon and Rhaenyra so much in the book and absolutely loved them in the TV Show! (Matt and Emma are incredible! ❣️). Another character that I loved in the book and the one I always wanted to know more about was Jacaerys Velaryon and I must say that I am very pleased with the choice of Harry Collett 😍 (oh yeah baby! 🔥).

I really hope that the directors and writers do justice to this wonderful crown prince! 🥰, because for me he is already one of my favorite characters of all time! ❣️.

🎥 Favorite Movies: Troy 2004 (did I mention I'm a Greek mythology lover?), the Star Wars saga 💫 (1-6 only), The Great Gatsby, A Walk to Remember, Harry Potter 🪄 (books and movies), The Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Hobbit trilogy, The Hunger Games saga ❣️(books and movies), The Twilight saga 😊 (books and movies).

I love Studio Ghibli movies with all my heart 💗 since my dad bought me the movie of Kiki Delivery Service when I was a 6-year-old little girl.

I love everything Disney and Pixar does 💗😘. (think of the happiest things, It's the same as having wings! 🎶)

🎧 Music: I have a very varied taste in music, some would say strange 😅, but if I like the rhythm and lyrics of the song I will surely add it to my playlist (mainly I like rock), AC / DC, Queen, Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, Linkin Park, Evanescence, Within Temptation, Imagine Dragons, Beyoncé, Ed Sheeran, Lana del Rey, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. I enjoy classical music too 🩷.

⭐ Something more about me: I am an inveterate dreamer and extremely perfectionist. I express myself better by writing than talking 😚.

I haven't drawn anything in almost 5 years and when I did I used to draw with traditional media (watercolor, charcoal, colored pencils, gouche and acrylic paints 🖌️).

But since October (from last year), when I saw Harry Collett as Prince Jacaerys, I felt a desire to draw that I hadn't felt in a long time ❣️.

This is my first time trying to draw in digital media, I hope you like what you see! 😘 (YouTube tutorials don't fail me now! 😭). I spent the whole summer practicing🥺.

P.S: Sorry if exist some error, the english is not my firts lenguage.

#HouseoftheDragon #Saint Seiya #Marvel #My first time using Tumblr #I do not know what I'm doing #Jacaerys Velaryon #Tony Stark my beloved #Brainrot made me do this #Rhaenyra Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen

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sissytobitch10seconds · 7 months

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Made a Family

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Diego Hargreeves' daughter has been telling him all about her daycare class and begging him for a playdate with another one of the little girls. He can't deny her anything, even if it ends up being more than he agreed to. Warnings: Mentioned OC death, mentioned parental/partner loss, and canon-typical child abuse Word Count: 4,263 Ship(s): Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves & Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago and then put off posting it because I felt like it was too short and self-indulgent. I was having a discussion with one of my wonderful mutuals and they mentioned that they wanted more parent Viktor stuff, so I'm basically just posting this for them! @lovely-number-7 , I hope that you enjoy it lol. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Picking up Chrysanthemum from her daycare class was one of Diego’s favorite things to do. It didn’t matter how hard he had been working that day or how exhausted he was, he loved getting to see her little shining face looking up at him from the other side of the half-door that blocked him from the rest of the class.

Diego’s daughter had been born right as his life finished settling out in the new universe that he had been dumped in. He still felt guilty for leaving his siblings standing in that park in the middle of unfamiliar territory, especially after everything that they had done, but he didn’t regret it. Not when he got to see his beautiful girlfriend every day when they both returned home from work and got to hold Chrys in his arms. Lila and Chrys meant more to him than anything ever had before and he would never regret his decision to make sure that they were safe and well cared for.

He pulled up to the outside of the daycare, closing the door behind him. He tried to keep his gruff exterior, the one that kept the single parents away from him, plastered onto his face but it was incredibly hard when when was thinking about his little girl.

The foyer of the daycare center was a plain white room with four staircases, half going up and half going down on the wall opposite the door into the building. The two bottom ones were for the older kids (5-7 and 7+) and the top two were for the younger (1-3 and 3-5). To the left was the office where the parents could check their kids in and out and to the right was the kitchen where the meals were made.

Diego turned to go to the office so that he could check Chrys out and then go and collect her from her room. The check out process was quick because the secretary immediately recognized him and so was able to hand him the sheet where he signed to prove that it was him.

He walked as quickly as he thought appropriate so that he was standing on the landing on top of the right staircase that led to the toddler room. He stuck his head through the open top half of the door and then scanned around for his daughter. He always showed up right after naptime, so she was either groggy from just waking up or bouncing around because she had renewed energy.

The teacher was stacking the purple foam pads in the corner so that the kids could have the floor to play again. She caught sight of him and then smiled softly, “Chrys? Your dad’s here to pick you up!”

Immediately upon hearing those words, the aforementioned toddler’s head appeared from behind the low bookshelves. He knew that she had been playing with the Mega Bloks that the school kept. They were her favorite thing since she could make whatever she wanted without repercussion and she loved the bright colors.

“Daddy!” the little girl squealed. She raced around the bookshelf towards the half door as fast as her little legs would carry her.

As soon as she was in arm’s reach, Diego reached past the wooden barrier and scooped her up. She let out a shriek of excitement as she was whirled through the air and then down into her father’s arms. He securely tucked on of his arms underneath her thighs so that she wouldn’t fall if she were to lean too far back. “Hey flor pequeña,” he chuckled as he kissed her chubby cheeks.

Chrys let out a series of long winded giggles as she used her little hands to push his face away from her. “Daddy! Your beard is scratchy!”

He chuckled as he pulled away from her so that she was no longer under the barrage of kisses. He took the backpack that Chrys was sent to school with every day from the day care worker and slung it around his other shoulder. “Thank you,” he said politely. He turned around and began to carefully walk down the stairs while he asked his daughter, “How was class today?”

“Good! I got to play dollhouse with Luna,” she chirped, clapping her hands together to demonstrate how excited she was.

Diego got her out to the car and then fastened her seatbelt securely over her body so that she was tightly strapped into her carseat. He gave her another kiss on the top of her head to make sure that she knew she was loved before he got into the driver’s seat. He glanced back at her to continue the conversation while they started backing out of the parking lot. “I’m glad you got to play in the dollhouse, bebita.” He genuinely was happy for his daughter, he knew how desperately she had wanted to play with the huge dollhouse that the daycare center had set up.

“I got to play with Luna, Daddy! She’s my favorite” the four-year-old explained happily. Diego was grateful every day that his daughter didn’t have to suffer with the same speech impediment that he still struggled with to that day. He would have loved her just as fiercely if she had, but he wanted her to have an easy childhood, free of stress and worry.

“Yeah? Is Luna your best friend?” he asked, glancing back at her with the rearview mirror once more before he turned his attention back to the heavy post-school traffic.

“Mhm! Bestest bestest friend,” the little girl giggled. She reached over and grabbed the bag that her mother had helped her pack before daycare that morning. She removed the stuffy that she had brought with her today and grasped her tight. It was something that she always did when she wanted a hug but wasn’t in the right situation to get one. Diego and Lila had thought it up when they realized just how many long trips were going to be required from them for her job.

Back before their little girl had been born, Diego had considered going back to the Police Academy, but after what he had gone through when he was living in Dallas in the sixties he knew that he couldn’t. So instead, he went back to college and worked on becoming a swim coach and teacher. Lila already had a degree from when she was living with her mother, which had transferred into the new universe, so was putting it to good use as a specialist detective working for the government. That was the real reason that they had to travel around so often, because her job brought them all over the country so that she could examine crime scenes and pieces of evidence up close. They kept their roots down in The City, though.

He felt a small smile slip over his face as he thought about his daughter getting to have the childhood that Lila and Diego had desperately wanted for her. Neither of them got to have a normal childhood, with the exception of Lila before she was four, so they wanted Chrysanthemum to have it. She was already connecting with more children than either of them could have ever been allowed to and her interpersonal skills were flourishing. It had been a huge achievement for them both to get their daughter this far in life without giving her any massive trauma and seeing her develop well.

She was kind, compassionate, and the sweetest little girl that either of them had ever had the joy of meeting. Both of them were overflowing with pride for their daughter and felt so lucky that they got to call her theirs.

The entire time that they were driving through the crowded streets back to their apartment, Diego thought felt his heart swelling with pride and joy. He could hear Chrys singing to herself in the backseat whenever a song came on the radio that she enjoyed. It reminded him of Allison when they were younger, before that childhood innocence had been stamped out of her. It was normal, according to their pediatrician, for children to have some amount of echolalia because that was how they began to pick up on language. Seeing the trait that had been stamped out of his sister in his daughter made Diego miss Allison more than he had in the nearly five years since he had seen her.

That was the one thing that he wished he could change about his life. He and Lila had disappeared into the city so that they could start their family and create a steady life for Chrys before she was born. He had meant to try and reach out to his family so that his daughter could know her aunt and uncles, but then he just never had. He was happy with his family, even if he wished that it could have been bigger for the sake of his daughter if nothing else.

They pulled into the parking garage of the apartment where Diego and Lila lived. He found his reserved spot and then began to get Chrys out of her carseat. She was winding down from the excitement of daycare and was beginning to look a little sleepy like she did everyday when she came home from school. She had just been weaned off of having multiple naps a day but still went to bed fairly early in the evening.

“What do you want for dinner, bebita?” he asked as he shouldered the backpack a little easier and began to walk her towards the house.

“Can Mommy make chops?” she asked as she scrubbed at her eye with one of her little fists.

“I can ask her. I think she just finished one of her cases so she might be really tired when she comes home. Daddy can make you something else, though,” he offered.

She considered it for a moment before she gave him a half-shrug of agreement. “Can I have cheese and crackers for my snack?”

“Did you not get a snack from daycare?” Diego asked, brows furrowing together with worry. That had only happened once before, when the kitchen had an issue so they weren’t able to get any food up to the kids, but it had still upset him. Reginald withheld food from the kids several times when they were younger and he determined that they hadn’t done a good enough job in their training to earn the right of a snack or even a meal if they had been bad enough. The idea of his daughter going at all hungry made him furious.

“I did, but I’m still hungry,” she whined, leaning further against him. Her hand was still clenched tightly around the purple unicorn that she had pulled out of her backpack in the car.

Diego chuckled and kissed the top of her head. It was only when they had gotten into the elevator of the parking garage that would lead them up to the apartment building that he realized what was wrong about what he had just seen. “Where did you get this, bebita?” he asked as he reached down and touched the stuffy in her hand.

“Luna! We traded, which is why I brought one of the stuffies that’s not my favorite,” she explained, flushing slightly.

Diego resisted the urge to laugh at that. He knew that his daughter was deeply ashamed that she couldn’t love all of her toys exactly the same amount since she was worried that some of them would get sad when they realized that they weren’t her favorite. He thought that it was adorable and he was so proud of her for already having this much compassion and kindness when she was only four years old.

“I wish that you had told us that you were going to do that, sweetheart,” he reprimanded gently as he tucked some of her brown-black hair behind her ear. “Mommy and I need to know when you do things like that so that we don’t think anything’s lost.”

She listened to him and then nodded. “Sorry, Daddy. I’ll tell you next time, okay?”

“Thank you,” he kissed the edge of her forehead. They walked through the halls of the apartment building and then he set her down. Chrys immediately ran off so that she could unpack her bag. Diego set his own bag down on the dining room table and then removed his shoes so that they were resting beside the door. He got out a plastic plate from the cupboard and then set out some crackers and cheese slices for Chrys when she was finished unpacking her bag.

He turned on the television to the PBS kids channel that The City got as an initiative to have more widely available entertainment for lower income families. For the four years before Diego had graduated that’s what they had been since they were only getting income from Lila’s job in the government, and she wasn’t able to take as many jobs when Chrys was younger and needed to be minded more often.

He was sitting on the couch while grading some of his student’s papers, he was currently working as a health teacher for the sixth grade class of the local middle school, when Chrys suddenly turned to him. “Daddy, do you think that me and Luna could have a playdate?”

“Sure, but I’d have to talk to Luna’s parent or guardian about it first,” he nodded.

Chrysanthemum grinned. “She’s gonna talk about it with her dad tonight! Can I have a piece of paper with your phone number so that you guys can talk? It’s how Abby and Derek had their playdate since their parents are always super duper busy.”

“Okay, I’ll have Mommy send you with one tomorrow when she packs your morning backpack,” he smiled and ruffled her hair.

The child turned back to her snack and show, happy as a clam that she might get to spend time with her best friend outside of the daycare environment.

---

The next morning, Diego woke up at the normal time that his alarm clock went off. He went about his routine just like he always did without thinking that something might be off or strange about the day. He went on his mile long run (having toned it down from five miles when he had a screaming newborn in the house to exhaust him for about a year straight) and then took a shower. He was just about ready to make himself his normal breakfast when Lila burst out of their closet looking rumpled and upset.

“Is everything okay, mi corazón?” he asked, brows knitting together with worry.

She looked stressed for a moment before she answered, “I got called on another job. I know that I need to take Chrys to school because you have swim club today and need to grade your papers since you can’t do it in the afternoon but I really have to take this. We could get a loan for a house after this, Diego.”

He reached out and took her hands, bringing her out of the closet doorway so that she was against him. He brushed her hair, still styled like it had been when they first fell in love, away from her face. “I can take her to school today. The kids can wait to have their papers graded for another day. You know that they want to put off finding out their grades for as long as possible,” he chuckled.

The worry lines that had been creased around her face softened and she smiled back at him. “I just don’t want to be a shit mum.”

“You are anything but a shit mother, Lila,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Worrying about whether or not they were going to be good parents was mostly what had destroyed their sleep schedule after Chrys was born since she was a fairly quiet and very sleepy newborn.

He gently kissed her on the lips and then said, “Pack up and get going so that you make your flight on time. When you’re settled down wherever they’re sending you this time, call us.”

“You’re the best husband that I could have asked for,” she grinned. She fisted his shirt and then pulled him down the few inches that he towered above her so that she could press a longer kiss to his lips.

The two then split apart and went their separate ways. Diego went to wake up their daughter and get her dressed for the day while Lila focused on packing her bag for the trip that she was going to have to make for work. Soon she was headed out the door, giving a kiss to both her husband and her daughter.

The rest of the morning was generally pleasant. Chrys always woke up kind of groggy but in a relatively good mood, having inherited Diego’s morning person attribute. She was overly excited once she actually woke up because she knew that today she was going to be at least one step closer to getting the playdate that she wanted with her best friend. She could barley sit still the entire time that Diego was trying to do her hair and help her get dressed.

Her bag was almost forgotten in her hurry to get out the door and to the daycare center. Diego still managed to remember it and included his number tucked into the frontmost pocket where nothing else was so that she wouldn’t forget it.

Lila was normally the one that dropped Chrys off at daycare since she worked later into the afternoon so wanted to spend more time with their daughter when and where she could. Diego had done it a couple of times before, in situations like this when Lila had been on trips. It still felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces when his little girl wrapped her arms as tightly around his legs as she could for only a moment and then rushed off to climb the stairs all on her own to her daycare room.

It didn’t happen that day though, because the person that she was most excited to see that day was still standing in the foyer getting checked in by her parent. “Luna!” Chrysanthemum called as soon as the door opened far enough for her to see the other four-year-old.

The aforementioned little girl whirled around and met her friend with a big hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too! Did you ask your dad?” Chrys asked.

Diego was so focused on his daughter interacting with her best friend that he didn’t even notice the adult that was checking her in until he spoke up. “She did. If your parents said that it was okay and I can talk with them then we can get you guys on the road to having a playdate.” His voice was eerily familiar, but Diego couldn’t quite put his finger on it until he looked up and saw who it was.

He felt like all of the air had been stolen from his lungs. His brother looked very different than he had the last time the two of them had seen each other, but it had been about half a decade so he wasn’t surprised. “Viktor?” Diego breathed.

The man turned towards him, giving Diego a much better view of him. Viktor’s face shape had changed so that his cheekbones and jaw were a lot sharper. His muscle mass had shifted so that it was broader through the shoulders and less heavy on the hips. His chest was entirely flat instead of the small bump that had come with his binder back when they were Hotel Oblivion. The hair on his face had obviously been shaved off that morning, but Diego could still see the traces of stubble along his neck. The veins in his hands and arms were also a lot more prominent.

“Diego,” Viktor blinked. “I, uh, didn’t realize that you were still in The City.”

“There wasn’t really anywhere else for us to go what with,” he gestured down to where Chrys was pulling the note from the front of her backpack pocket to show Luna. He then turned his attention back up to Viktor as he spotted the baby sling over his chest and stomach. “You’ve got two kids?”

“Kind of a long story,” he nodded. “This is Nikolai, and then you’ve met my eldest.”

It was surreal to see that. Logically, he knew that something like this could happen. Before all three of the apocalypses that they had to fend off, Viktor had a life and a career that he obviously adored. It made sense that he would have jumped back into that when given the chance and even settled down to have a family.

“Listen, I have to go to work but do you want to catch up sometime? Maybe you can come over the first time that Luna and Chrys have a playdate,” Diego suggested.

“Yeah,” Viktor nodded. “We can do that.”

He then finished signing in his daughter and walked both of the little girls up to the room where they would stay for the rest of the day. Diego had signed Chrys in and then gone back to his car by the time that Viktor came back down.

---

The two brothers talked and not three days later, when the weekend had finally come, they were both sitting in Diego’s living room. Chrysanthemum and Luna were down the hall in her bedroom, playing with the myriad of toys that she had been vibrating with excitement at the idea of getting to show off. Viktor had Nikolai out of the carrier that he had brought him up in and was currently patting his back as he tried to soothe his cries.

Diego held his hands out to offer some help. Viktor seemed grateful for this, passing the three-month-old baby over to his brother. “Was Luna this fussy?” he asked as he shifted the baby around and began to bounce him. He had gotten very good at doing that while half asleep when his own daughter was this young.

“I wouldn’t know,” Viktor half shrugged. “I became Luna’s dad when she was eighteen months old.”

Diego knew that it was prying, but he couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t quite realized how starved he was for familial affection like he had gotten when they were all trying to stop the end of the world. He was desperate to become a part of Viktor’s life again and to know what had happened in his absence. “Oh? Did you adopt?”

“Sort of,” he sighed. “You know how I have the absolute worst luck when it come to romantic partners?”

Diego nodded and waited for him to continue. “Well after the whole reset of the universe I found out that all of my old stuff was there, minus what I blew up with my powers. It was like everything had stayed from before Harold showed up. So I just kind of picked up where I left off but I was standing up for myself and able to actually be a person instead of the husk that the medication made me be. I met someone who called themself Light. We got along great because we were both trans, and they had already had Luna. We ended up moving in together and becoming co-parents and we were kind of trying to take romance slow but then they got pregnant again with Nikolai. I was going to stick around and continue to help with the whole parenting thing but, um, they didn’t make it through the delivery. So now I’m a dad and I don’t have my partner.”

There were so many missing details that Diego was desperate to know, but Nikolai was only a couple of months old so the loss of this partner still had to be a fresh wound on Viktor’s heart. He chose to drop it instead of pushing forward. “You’re a good dad. Chrys is enamored with Luna, I think that they’re going to stay best friends forever or grow to resent each other.”

Viktor laughed at that, running a hand through the short locks on the front of his head. “I worry. I didn’t have anyone good to base my parenting off of from my life. I mean, Sissy and Light were both amazing parents but I hadn’t been around them for all that long. And I was learning alongside Light because they had aged out of the foster system so they didn’t have anyone to base their parenting off of either.”

“Lila and I worry too. It was really hard, the beginning couple of months. But eventually you kind of feel like you get some footing and you begin to gain confidence,” he reassured.

The two of them fell into an easy back and forth just like they had before the whole family had split up once again. They talked about parenting, what the other had been doing their time apart, and what they thought that their siblings were doing now that they were free in the world. It turned out that Five and Viktor were still very close, which wasn’t all that surprising, and Klaus would pop into his life every now and again. Slowly, Diego got the family that he had been hoping for since his daughter had first been placed into his arms.

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