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#Neither stood a chance
freyalir · 2 months
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Ancient comic from my forbidden art vault. Rest in pieces Vile and Zero.
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thefatfemme · 6 months
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I can't remember a time when my mom wasn't on a diet. It makes me really sad.
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dayas · 2 years
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I’m so SICK Brooke was worried about Lucas and Peyton being a thing after he cheated on her with her best friend and then they go and kiss AGAIN and hide it from her AGAIN 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
And to juxtapose it with them (Brooke and Lucas) “learning to trust each other again” and all through that time intertwining Lucas and Peyton moments like. Be fr 😭💀 It could have worked better narratively (imo) if they would have separated them but by doing this it felt (to me personally!) that Brooke and Lucas were never that serious to begin with because their growth was always one step forward and three steps back.
#sumn about doing the baddest bitch on the show wrong don’t sit right w/ me#especially with how they never let brooke and lucas stand on their own literally every other episode they had lucas and peyton like…#respectfully brucas never stood a chance it was so unserious#and to have peyton go lucas-jake-pete-jake-lucas like 😭😭😭😭😭😭#NOT TO MENTION: all they literally had to do was tell the truth. i get peyton thought she was going to die but AFTER?#she AND lucas had all the time in the world to tell brooke and neither of them said shit#i can’t blame her for not trusting them because they literally did the same shit twice 💀🤡#anyways it just got on my nerves that brooke and lucas could never have their own moment without peyton coming up and needing lucas#i think they set lucas and peyton up to be soulmates which is fine but they didn’t have to throw brooke through hoops to do it#OR make her and lucas the ‘even though we aren’t technically perfectly suited I still choose you and i keep choosing you’ couple#anyways free brooke PLEASE abeg let peyton continue her development and lucas develop further and THEN bring leyton thx#somebody tell me does brooke actually get her happily ever after and prince charming like she deserves though AT LEAST TELL ME YES OR NO#BLINK TWICE I’LL TAKE ANYTHING#brooke davis#brucas#one tree hill#oth#k watches#now do i agree with brooke being all controlling? no. but i understand why she didn’t want them together at least in the beginning.#plus she said that they went days without meaningful conversations but every conversation he has with peyton is meaningful.#even when brooke was going through it lucas was with peyton#brucas was just so unserious 😭 in theory they made sense but my point is they didn’t have to do her like that to set up leyton endgame#lucas scott#peyton sawyer#to be clear this is NOT anti leyton but it IS pro brooke#k chats
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stellaweb · 1 year
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bard wandersong and floofty bugsnax i am so sorry
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arthur-r · 2 years
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progress on my painting from a while ago
#it’s still just very base layers but i hadn’t got a chance to do anything to it since that first day#(i’m borrowing my older sisters canvasses and she’s the one who has all the paints too these days which used to be mine#so she’s keeping my work in progress canvas with all her painting stuff and it only comes out of the whole family is ready to paint#which mostly just means us kids but only happens if my littlest sister is interested and today she was)#anyway im very excited to have a painting to put up on my wall of a bear playing cello#the end pin is gonna be stuck out real long too look at how far it is to where his lower foot is at#cause usually you don’t play the cello when you’re standing and if you do you often have a strap or something similar#but i don’t use a strap (mainly because i only play sitting down but like. if i stood i would use the end pin)#and so neither does he. one real self insert of an imaginary cellist bear he must be#also one thing i’m gonna struggle with is differentiating the cello from the bear in color. like yeah they’re different shades of brown but#i only have so much different colors of paint to mix together#but yknow what. things happen and that’s all they ever do and if it doesn’t look good then i’ll figure something else out#maybe it’ll have to be an orange cello. these kinds of things are unpredictable shdhdf#anyway i hope you think of me like i think of this painting (as a grizzly bear playing a cello or as a thing you like and are proud of)#but yeah hi im at the house of some cats right now. feeding them and such. but there’s this other unafilliated cat who belongs to their#roommate josh. and his cat is named bear so you’d think we’d get along but he’s scratched me in six different spots today#he always wants to eat the other cats food so i have to pick him up and carry him to another room and that makes him very upset with me#anyway the cats take a long time to eat and i can’t leave until they’re done so that i can let out bear when he no longer poses a threat#which means im just kind of chilling in a friends empty house (josh is gone for the moment) with nothing much to do except wait#and i’m sure hoping to walk home before it’s pitch dark out but that would probably mean giving up and letting bear out to steal their food#so good luck to me on that front. anyway im rambling a little i was just trying to post this picture shdhdhdf#so. i hope to work on it again soon in not very long. and i just really like painting things with a paintbrush it makes me feel less bad#when i mess up in whatever ways. because everyone always complains about traditional art so it’s more universal. i like it better though too#anyway i’ll be here for the next while just hoping to head home before 9:30. let me know if you need anything though#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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phantomrose96 · 1 month
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Sham Sacrifice
(Hi it's time for my favorite headcanon)
...
Vlad Masters sat firm and proper on the Fenton Family couch, legs crossed, teacup pinched in his fingertips, fighting subtly against the sinkhole that came with the mistake of taking Jack’s usual spot on the couch. He appeared with all the same charm and delightfulness of an ant swarm rearranging your picnic.
Danny stood at the doorway, just-still-in-the-kitchen, just not inviting himself to join the adults in the living room where Jack boomed and rambled and Vlad sat so stiff and polite and nice that his tea in his hands was going cold.
“Oh, Danny you’ll love this story—Danny, you should join us—Danny this was, what, summer of ’84? When was that heatwave, Vladdy? The one where you—”
“There’s no need to bore Daniel with the mad ravings of two old kooks, Jack. Kids would rather be off at the mall or—some store, surely. No need to stick around Daniel on my behalf. I assure you I won’t be offended if you leave.”
“No worries, V-man. I’m good right here. I love hearing Dad’s stories." Danny met Vlad's challenge, speaking with more poisonous courtesy than Vlad had proffered first. "In fact I think he should tell a few more, if he’s got more in mind.”
“In fact I do have more in mind—” Jack answered.
Neither Danny nor Vlad were listening to Jack. They held eye-contact, Danny with a stern unblinkingness of a sheepdog on duty. A lot was said without words. A lot was understood when Vlad decided to visit through the front door. Vlad only used the front door when he wanted something.
And it was never good when Vlad wanted something.
“—the core reactor project, yeah? That summer? That was in the lab with no A/C. Top floor. We were sweating like pigs, all of us. And I dared you to eat the really moldy pizza from our fridge the night before and you ralphed right into—”
“—Surely you remember this more fondly than I do. Daniel, really, you can go.”
Not a chance.
“Actually,” Danny answered, brightening some as his opportunity struck. “I am interested in this. For science class I need to write a report on the invention of an important piece of technology. I was gonna ask Mom and Dad about the Ghost Portal. And now that you’re here, I can get the whole history.”
Jack made a giddy little noise. He leaned forward, words primed, but Vlad was quicker to the draw.
“Sorry to say, your faith in me is unfounded. I wasn’t the portal guy back in college—that was always your mother and father’s passion project. I was their skeptic.”
“Bet that’s got you feeling pretty foolish right now, doesn’t it V-man?” Jack chided, a quick jab to Vlad’s ribs that nearly unseated the teacup from his suspended saucer. “Considering the fully-functioning portal right beneath our toes.”
“I hardly feel foolish, Jack. Your calculation for the portal in college was never going to work.”
“What do you mean? Of course it did.” Jack thumped the ground with his foot. “It’s running the old girl right now.”
At this, Vlad’s eyes narrowed. For the first time he’d been shaken off whatever skeezy machinations had brought him in. His pride was being challenged, and by Jack no less.
“Absolutely not. With that calculation? Absolutely not.”
“Well forget the tea biscuits Vlad, because you’re going to be eating your words in a second. Mads, hold my spot,” Jack said, as if anyone was planning to take his spot. He bounced from the couch, scooted from the living room, and vanished into the dark maw of the lab stairs, leaving only the waning beat of his footsteps behind.
His absence filled only a swallowing few seconds. The footsteps returned, bounding upward, creaking with his heavy cadence, and Jack bounced back into the room in much the manner he left. A pad of yellow lined paper was clutched in his hand. When he dropped it on the coffee table, it revealed row after row of tight scribble, churning math, carrying down the page and occupying two entire pages more that Jack flipped through.
“Same baby I came up with in college. It just needed heavier dampening and higher voltage than what we made back then. The portal downstairs has that in spades. Well, in like two-thirds of a spade.” Jack tapped something on the last line. “The projection was still only hitting 70% of the threshold we calculated to reach dimension penetration. But it’s an art, not just a science. We fired it up anyway, and it took!”
Vlad grabbed the paper pad, agitated. His eyes ran over it. Then again. Until he settled on one line, a firmness overcoming his face. He tossed the pad back onto the coffee table, and Vlad leaned back into the couch, arms crossed.
“The lambda, Jack.”
“The lambda?”
“Check it again.”
Jack did, lips pursed, pad of paper nearly swallowed in his big meaty hand.
“What about--?”
“It squares. The units don’t balance otherwise. It originates from an integration step of λ*∂λ/∂t. It squares.”
Jack’s brow remained furrowed, firm, until delight cracked into his eyes, and he let out a laugh.
“Gods, my handwriting is gonna be the death of us. Mads,” he tapped something unseen on the second page. “That’s the genius of Vladdy. Cracked this puppy wide open with just a glance. I never noticed that in all my checking. That explains the missing 30%, at least. That explains how the portal took. Lucky for you Danny that Vlad was here—”
“Jack,” Maddie said.
“—your report can have the correct formula. It’ll be—”
“—Jack—”
“—A+ worthy—”
“—Jack,” Maddie said, curt. “Lambda is the ambient ecto-energy. It’s a few ten-thousandths of a unit.”
“It—huh.”
Maddie had surfaced a pen from her pocket. She sheared a few blank pages out from the back of the pad and started the formula fresh. She made quick work of copying it over, quicker work of solving it through – lambda-squared intact.
She hit the final line and hatched a pen mark beneath the number. Jack stared, confused.
“That can’t… no.”
He repeated the same. New pages torn loose. Formula copied over, processed, line by line by line—lambda squared—by line by line by line.
Jack settled on his answer. Same as Maddie’s.
Confusion made his face tense.
“So it’s not 70% of the way to the threshold… It’s 0.013% of the way to the threshold.”
He held the pen hard, his whole body holding firm and taut as the gears turned in his head. Jack’s eyes flickered across the formula, again and again and again. He looked to Maddie, like a dog issued a command he did not understand.
“But it worked,” he said, small. “But it worked.”
Jack stood, robotic almost, eyes lost in something far away. He disappeared into the lab almost as quickly as he had a few minutes before, but now he exited with a smoothness and a quietness so very uncharacteristic of him. It bothered Danny, somewhere deep in his gut.
Maddie followed, a possession matching Jack’s.
Danny’s fingers curled and uncurled. He’d succeeded. He’s successfully interrupted Vlad’s… whatever this was. But the disquiet infected him. He didn’t like it.
“So what does that mean?” Danny asked, perhaps to Vlad. “What’s wrong with the calculation?”
Vlad sipped on tea ice cold.
“Who knows?” Vlad lied.
The math didn’t work.
Maddie and Jack burned through paper, burned through pencils, burned through hours.
The math didn’t work.
Clothes stuck to skin. Sweat lingered fetid and stale in the cold basement air. Exhaustion beat like a slurry through their veins.
The math didn’t work.
The portal supervised all, placidly green, the light for their table, the light for their work when the lightbulb overhead burnt clean out and neither Jack nor Maddie could be pulled away to replace it. It stood, it watched, a testament of contradiction to everything they could not solve on paper, and yet everything they built directly into the fabric of reality.
And it should never have worked.
They threw every radical what-if they’d ever conceived over 20 years of ghost research.
The ecto-ether layer.
The latent activation stitches in space fabric.
The anti-ectomatter collision proposal.
The positive-feedback crystallization theory.
And still nothing worked.
All together, every crackpot theory in their favor taken for granted, racked them up to an activation energy 200x more potent than the calculation, and still just 2% of what would be needed to rip open, and hold open, a stable fissure between their reality and the ghost zone.
Maybe by pure luck, unfathomable luck, Fentonworks basement was directly situated atop a natural portal.
Maybe that would explain ripping it open. It did nothing to explain the stability. Natural portals were unstable by definition. There and gone in a few seconds. Not hours, days, weeks, months, a year, that the Fenton Portal had been open. Never so much as faltering.
It was late. 3am ticked away to 4am, and 4:30am. The discarded paper stacked higher than Jack and Maddie both. Calluses oozed from their hands at another attempt, and another, and another.
Maddie flipped through a folder’s worth of yellowed papers, aggressively thumbed over and over after two decades left untouched. And she settled on the one she’d passed over a few dozen times already, always seeking something else, something better.
This time she unsheathed it, and she placed it on the lab table.
“…If a mouse died. In the machine. If a mouse ran through the machine and accidentally bridged two live wires, and died of violent electrocution. 500 milliamps. Instantly melted into the circuitry.”
Maddie’s mouth was cotton-dry while she wrote. Ambient ecto-energy was low. Always very, very low.
Unless something very, very bad happened to something with the capacity to become a ghost.
The numbers wove. Maddie started the formula fresh, and it was pure muscle memory. A mouse. A big mouse, even. A 99th percentile beast of a mouse. And a wire that had been wired incorrectly. Something grounded that never actually grounded. An absolutely horrific amount of electricity.
0.37%, by pure numbers. If she included every permissive crackpot idea they had thrown on top, it topped out at 6% of the needed activation threshold.
Not a mouse.
“A cat,” Jack said, words gummy, tongue dry, face tired. “If we’ve got mice down here, maybe… a stray cat wandered in. Chased the mouse.”
Maddie nodded. It didn’t matter if it made sense.
She penned it in. A large cat. A devastating electrical short. Cats carried more ecto-potential than mice did. Ecto-potential did not necessarily go up with size. It went up with complexity. The things with the most ecto-potential were the things that most became ghosts.
1.45%, by pure numbers. 18% at absolute, absolute crackpot best.
“A dog,” Jack proposed with a shaky laugh. He swallowed. “A mouse… chased by a cat… chased by a dog… all electrocuted at once”
Maddie didn’t say the thing they both knew, which was that both of them would have noticed the evidence left behind by the electrically exploded pieces of a dog.
Maddie did it anyway. A mouse and a cat and a medium-sized dog, maybe just small enough to notice no evidence of, all together. All at once. All violently ripped apart, sacrificed to a machine still asleep in its wall.
Mice did not often make ghosts. Cats did not either. Dogs, occasionally. But infrequently. Very infrequently.
37%. At best.
“Jack.”
“Maddie, I know just—maybe something really smart—”
“—Jack—”
“—like an octopus—”
“Jack.”
“I hear, maybe, pigs are smart. If it was—”
Maddie was writing, already. Not for a pig. Not an octopus. Jack watched, and he knew what the numbers meant. The ecto-potential she penned gave her away. An ecto-potential that high.
65kg, an estimate
10,000 milliamps, a catastrophic accident, a death certificate.
A human’s amount of ecto-potential.
Maddie wrote.
And she wrote.
And she did not apply a single crackpot theory, not a single discredited proposal, not an ounce of exaggeration.
138%.
Threshold, and then some.
Comfortable, easily, then some.
For the first time, after all the hundreds of times she and Jack had penned this equation over the course of 2 decades, the number met her and Jack’s threshold.
A breakthrough.
A revelation.
A pure eureka moment.
Jack and Maddie were silent.
Alone in a humming basement. Alone with only the soft swirls of the portal for company, happy, stable, purring its contentment, singing to the cold air.
“It has to be something else,” Maddie said. And she said it weakly. And she said it childishly.
“You’re right. It can’t be this,” Jack echoed. “If someone died down here, we’d know. Dead bodies don’t walk away. We’d have seen it. O-or even if, if the body got stuck in the portal, we’d have heard of someone going missing.”
Maddie sat, quiet. A thought held her mind hostage.
“Unless they didn’t go missing,” Maddie said, and she said it barely audibly. “Unless the portal spit them right back out.”
“Then—that’s what I said—a dead body, on the floor, we’d have seen.”
“Not a dead body.”
“It had to be lethal, Mads—”
“I know Jack. But if they died, here, in the portal Jack, then their ghost did not get ripped away from the body and sent to the Ghost Zone. …They ripped the Ghost Zone here.” Palms slick with sweat smoothed over her notes. She pointed to one specific line and found her pen tip trembled no matter how badly she stabilized it. “The ecto-potential of a creature is how strong of a pull their ghost creates on the Ghost Zone. A strong enough pull means the ghost can reach the Ghost Zone and stabilize, like a fish reeling itself up, yeah? We agree on this Jack, yes?”
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“It’s what makes the math even work, Jack. Someone dying in the portal didn’t reel themselves to the boat. They reeled the boat in. Jack, they brought the Ghost Zone here…” Maddie wasn’t breathing right. She pulled sweat-soaked bangs away from her face. “Their ghost never left their body Jack. They died, Jack. And they walked back out.”
“…No. No,” Jack said. “No, they didn’t.”
“Then what?” Maddie asked.
Jack stared. He looked away. He didn’t like the expression on Maddie’s face.
“It—what about the ecto-ether theory?” Jack said, of the theory they’d tested and retested and tested all over, all night. He grabbed his pencil back up and pointed it aimlessly at Maddie’s piece of paper, pointed end out in self-defense. “If the ecto-ether is maybe… if it’s only 250-times stronger than we calculated. Then it could…”
Jack’s voice died. His pencil hung idle. Maddie’s paper remained unblemished.
“If it… was a pig,” Jack offered. “If it was a pig that died in the portal.”
“How, Jack? How would a pig get in? We lock all the doors at night, Jack. No one else can get in, Jack. It’s just us, Jack.”
Jack and Maddie were not there when the portal turned on.
Maddie’s statement carried two possibilities. Only two. Both felt like claws digging all the flesh right out of Jack’s heart.
“I want… I want to try the ecto-ether theory again,” Jack choked. “I think it’s the ecto-ether. I think it’ll work.”
Jack slid a piece of paper over, already covered in scribbles. In its single untouched corner, he started the equation for the several-thousandth time that night.
Above their head, birds were singing.
Sunrise hailed unseen from the windowless laboratory.
At 6am, Vlad answered his cell phone. The reception crackled, struggling through the layers of sheetrock above his head.
“Vlad?” Maddie’s voice crackled. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Not at all my dear.” Vlad leaned his weight against the wall, playing with the singsong melody in his voice. “But you sound exhausted. Is anything the matter?”
“Yes. Well… Yes. Jack and I have—all night—trying to fix the equation.”
“Naturally.”
“We found something that maybe works.”
“Oh?” Vlad asked. He straightened, pacing now, cracklingly attentive. “And what might that—”
“If someone died. Activating the portal. We have an on-switch inside the portal’s interior. The trigger we use to press it is external to the portal, of course. But if someone went inside the portal, and they pressed it directly, and if they died, and pulled the Ghost Zone here—”
Vlad’s red eyes reflected pools of iridescent green. He twirled his free hand in the fringes of his cape, tongue working over the fanged edges of his teeth. He stared, consumed, forward.
“—and just, you, I was thinking, you’re the only other expert I’d trust to… maybe weigh in.”
“What does Jack think?”
“He denies it. He’s still. He’s trying other theories.”
“Well who knows, surely? The answer may lie somewhere you haven’t looked.”
“…I’ve looked everywhere, Vlad. That's the thing. There is no more ‘somewhere else’. I’ve looked.”
“You sound like your mind is made up.”
“I just… if maybe you have some idea.”
“Am I meant to talk you out of this idea?”
“Vlad.”
“Do you think I have some secret information you don’t? Sorry to say, I’m just your skeptic.” Some noise came through muffled from the other side. Vlad flashed a smile. “But…as your skeptic I will offer you this—It all sounds a bit absurd, doesn’t it? To kill someone and have them come back intact and… for you to never notice? Who would they be? How would they be? Surely not human anymore, surely. How would you never notice?”
Vlad paced forward, booted feet clicking along his laboratory floor.
“It would be ridiculous,” he continued, with a building crescendo, “so unfathomably self-centered surely, to not notice something like that befall someone so close to you, who died at the hands of your own invention? …If I’m correctly inferring who, in your household, you suspect of having activated the portal?” Vlad’s tongue lingered along his teeth.
Maddie’s line held, quiet. And the seconds of static drew long.
“Ah, apologies. I’ve overstepped,” Vlad continued. “I meant this as a vote of confidence in you. You and Jack both. Two people as attentive, caring, compassionate as yourselves. You would notice. I promise.”
“You’re… Okay, thank you, Vlad. I appreciate it.”
“Is there anything else, my dear?”
“No. No. Thank you, Vlad. I’ll think about this.”
Maddie’s line clicked dead. A chuckle built to Vlad’s lips and he let his head tip back with mirth. It lasted only a moment. He stowed his phone. And as if the interruption had never happened, Vlad reaffixed his attention on his own portal swirling in front of him. It bathed him, swimming green, purring contentment.
And Vlad vanished into his portal.
(Chapter 2)
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girlgenius1111 · 1 month
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hallmarks of sisterhood
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putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
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Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 
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“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 
Alba flushed red with anger. 
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 
------
The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 
Alexia had responded first. 
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that. 
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
-------
You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
-------
You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 
-------
Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 
Eli chuckled. “I will.” 
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 
“We really did.” Alba replied. 
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 
“We really do.” Alba agreed. 
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 
“New car?” 
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
1K notes · View notes
bucketsofmonsters · 10 months
Text
On The Altar
cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time
male dragon x male knight x fem reader
word count: 12k
Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 
You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 
Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 
You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 
It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count
Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 
You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 
You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 
You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 
Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 
Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 
They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 
You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 
All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.
And the town saved. 
They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 
What a privilege it was to die for them. 
You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 
Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 
You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 
Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 
You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 
You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 
And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 
As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 
It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 
It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 
Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 
You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 
He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 
You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 
Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”
You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 
You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 
“Hello,” you responded. 
Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”
You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 
“You were out there to be taken, yes?”
Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 
You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.
“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”
“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 
“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”
“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”
“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”
You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 
“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”
“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 
The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”
“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”
It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 
You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 
He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”
“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”
He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”
Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t let them hurt you.”
You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 
“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”
Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”
“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”
You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 
You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 
He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 
“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.
“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 
He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 
“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 
With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 
He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 
You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 
As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 
You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 
You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 
Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 
You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 
At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 
“I can’t eat that.”
You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 
“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 
At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 
He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”
He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 
When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 
“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”
“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 
He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.
“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”
If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 
“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”
You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.
You looked down at the sheep again. 
Maybe not entirely alone. 
He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 
You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.
Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 
As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”
You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 
As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”
“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”
“They do. Just not me.”
You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”
He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”
You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”
The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 
“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”
“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 
“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”
“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”
You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”
Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”
You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”
“But not today?”
You shook your head. “Not today.”
“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”
You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 
When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 
Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 
Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  
When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 
You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 
He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 
You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.
It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 
The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 
Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 
As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 
You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 
You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 
“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 
“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”
“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.
“You did.”
“You’ll find a new ending someday.”
“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.
“You matter.”
You scoffed. “I did.”
“You do.”
You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”
“Goodnight, little human.”
You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 
You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 
“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 
You slid away from him, back into the cold. 
He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”
“I will not.”
You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 
You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 
You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 
Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 
You’d never slept better. 
You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 
“Good morning,” he said.
You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 
You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 
You pulled away from him, feeling sick.
Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 
“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 
You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”
He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 
You didn’t.
“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”
“It just wasn’t meant to be." 
“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 
You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”
He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 
You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”
And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 
Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 
“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”
You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 
You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 
“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”
His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”
A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 
Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 
Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 
This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 
Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 
The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 
He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 
As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 
 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 
The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 
You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 
The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 
You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 
You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 
As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 
You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 
“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 
The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 
Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 
“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”
The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”
You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”
“An example must be made.”
You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”
The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 
“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.
You could barely think, barely hear his words. 
The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 
You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 
It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 
The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 
It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 
Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 
A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 
And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 
Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 
You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”
The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 
Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 
You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 
Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 
As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 
He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 
“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”
“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.
“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”
He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”
You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”
“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.
You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 
“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 
“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”
“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”
“For what?”
“To be their sacrifice.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 
It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 
You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 
Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?
The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 
You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”
That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”
“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 
“Phillip.”
You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 
He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 
He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 
He returned in a few moments. 
“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”
You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 
It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 
As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 
It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 
You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 
You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 
You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 
You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?
Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 
As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 
You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 
You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 
You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.
He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 
“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”
He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 
No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 
“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”
“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”
You shook your head again. 
You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”
He nodded. “Promise.”
You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”
You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 
A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 
You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 
The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 
You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 
As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 
You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”
“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”
“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”
You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?
“I can drop you off at any other town.”
You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 
He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 
He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 
He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 
It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.
The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 
Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 
Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 
It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.
You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 
If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 
 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.
You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 
With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 
You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”
“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”
“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”
You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”
The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 
You took off in a dead sprint after him. 
You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 
You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 
The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 
Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 
You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 
Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”
You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 
For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 
He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 
You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 
Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 
“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 
You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 
“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 
You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 
He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 
You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”
He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 
He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 
And not a moment too soon. 
The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 
The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 
You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.
You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”
“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”
You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 
“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”
You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 
“No. But… but you….”
“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”
“If he took you, how did you escape?”
“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 
“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”
“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”
He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”
“And it’s not your choice to make.”
He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 
Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 
“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 
“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 
Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”
He nodded hesitantly. 
Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”
“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”
The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”
You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”
“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”
Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”
You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”
“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”
You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”
“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 
“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”
You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”
“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 
The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 
“Pytho?” you called out. 
He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”
“Could you go get some wood?”
“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 
When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 
You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 
You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 
You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 
“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 
He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”
“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 
With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 
You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”
He didn’t respond. 
You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 
A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 
He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”
“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”
His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 
“I wish I could do that.”
“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”
Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 
You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”
He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”
You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 
The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 
What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 
Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 
“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.
He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 
“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 
“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 
You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 
There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 
After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”
He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 
With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.
You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 
He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.
He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.
You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.
His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 
You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 
“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”
“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”
“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”
His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”
You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”
He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”
“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”
“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 
“Don’t you get tired?”
“I never have the time.”
“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”
He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.
He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 
Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 
“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 
“Yeah?”
“Where is my sword?” he asked. 
You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”
“You what? Why?”
Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”
You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”
“Why?” asked Phillip.
“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”
“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”
“You already did attack him unprovoked.”
“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”
Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”
That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”
Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”
“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You���re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”
Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”
He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 
“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 
It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 
“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”
Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 
“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 
You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”
It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 
His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.
He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 
You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 
His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 
He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 
With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 
A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 
You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.
“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”
You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 
“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 
You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”
“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”
You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 
His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”
“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”
“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”
“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”
His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 
Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”
“What?”
“That I never stop. That upsets you?”
You nodded. “It does.”
“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”
A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”
“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”
And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”
A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 
Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 
“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 
“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 
You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 
And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 
“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”
You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 
The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 
As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 
Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 
And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 
You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 
You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 
He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 
“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 
“What?”
“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”
Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”
You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”
He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”
He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 
You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 
A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 
You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 
“What was that?” you asked quietly. 
He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”
He nodded hesitantly. 
“You kiss me all the time though.”
He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”
As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”
You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 
You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 
You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 
You couldn’t be happier. 
“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 
And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 
As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 
“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”
His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 
As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 
He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 
His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 
You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 
His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 
His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 
It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 
His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 
His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 
You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 
He was massive, probably a foot long. 
“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.
The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 
“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”
Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 
Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 
“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 
He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 
Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 
He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”
You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.
So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 
He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”
He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 
You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 
He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 
You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 
Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.
Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.
“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 
You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”
The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 
His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 
You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 
You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 
“Please,” you asked. 
He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 
Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 
Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 
Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 
“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 
You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 
You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 
Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.
You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 
As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 
Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 
You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 
You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 
Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”
“Plans change,” you said. 
“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 
You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 
Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 
Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 
You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 
It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 
Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 
As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 
You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 
He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 
You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 
“What?”
His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”
You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”
He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 
“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”
He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”
He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”
You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”
“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”
Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”
It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 
You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”
“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”
You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”
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intoxicated-chan · 1 year
Note
Oooh how about Yandere Miguel who locks his s/o away in an apartment like place (it's actually really nice) that's hidden somewhere in the spider society headquarters that only he knows about because he's extremely possessive and he's afraid of them getting hurt. Since they are just a regular human being, there's not much they can do about it. When he checks on them he's all loving and sweet but he's still very controlling. Maybe Miles or Gwen accidentally finds them and attempts to rescue them and Miguel gets PISSED.
Don’t Think You Can Escape
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miles and Gwen continue to run from the Spiders, but at a dead end, they come across something neither of them knew.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Love Taste feat. Jamie Paige & Shiki” by Moe Shop. I’ve got an announcement! Celebrating the movie’s release, I will be releasing my own Miguel O’Hara book! Be on the lookout. Anyways, requests will remain open for a few more days before I close them. You guys have the best ideas!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 2.6k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst, pet names (Amor, baby), blood, bruising, branding, violence, talk of marriage, threats, death, choking…
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“This way!” Gwen shouted, dodging the incoming webbing from the other Spider members.
Miles followed her closely, following her and taking turns that she thought she was familiar with but it led them to a dead end. His head snapped in the direction of their shouts.
Gwen’s gizmo was tossed a while ago, realizing that there may be a chance of a tracker, she didn’t want to take any chances.
“What now?” MIles heavily panted, their voices getting louder by the second.
She takes a second to think, she places her hand on the wall as support but it lights up. She could hear rumbling on the other side, like something turning. She pounded her fist against the metal wall and it was clear that it was hollow.
“Miles, help me open this.” She said.
“Are you sure?”
“We don’t have any other option.”
“Alright then.”
Miles stood on one side and Gwen on the other, they both used their webbing to force the hidden, metal doors open. Both of them loudly grunt as the doors slowly opened.
“One three.” Miles nodded, “One… Two… THREE!”
The two simultaneously jump in at the same time, practically tackling each other. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang and soon, they could hear other voices up against the door. It made his heart drop, yet he relaxed when the voices dispersed.
Gwen stood up first, taking off her hood and mask to take a good look around, “What is this place?” Miles asked her.
She hesitated in shrugging, “I’m… I’m not sure. I don’t think I saw this place on the map.”
“Didn’t think the gizmo had a map.” He stood as well, “Could it be another sector?”
This time, she shrugged, “It clearly wasn’t labeled, otherwise we’d be caught by now.”
“Okay then, what now?”
Gwen looked forward and into the dark but barely lit tunnel, “We keep moving forward.” She walked into it.
“I’ll follow your lead.” Knowing that Gwen knew the headquarters better than him.
The two walk through the long, narrow hallway. It made Gwen shiver and keep her guard up. But she kept her sights forward, following a light that seemed to be peeking out from under the door.
Their footsteps rang and Miles swears he could hear his heart racing. As much as he enjoyed a break from being chased, he began to worry. What happens now? How will he get out? What about Gwen?
All kinds of questions raced through his head… Was either of them going to get out of here?
“Miles!” Gwen looked back at him, worried, “I know that you’re panicking but I need you to focus, everything will be alright.”
“Will it?” Miles huffed, arms crossed, “You saw how freaked Miguel was. There’s no way out of this, I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Hey, we’re in this together. Okay?”
Miles takes a deep breath, “Okay.”
“Besides, we can think of something when we’re inside.”
Miles stopped in his tracks, “Insid-?” A door. Windows, a few feet from the door, pitch black and barred.
“I think this might be the place Peter was talking about.” Gwen smiled, walking up to the door.
“He knew about this?”
“It’s more like suspected. He saw Miguel disappear a couple of times and believed he had a secret place to get away, this must be it.” Slowly she twisted the doorknob.
Miles reached out and grabbed her wrist, “Then are you sure we should be sneaking into a place where Miguel visits.”
“I said suspected. It’s a chance this may now be it and besides, he’s too busy running around the base looking for us.” She ignored Miles’ protest and opened the door, it was unlocked, “Now that’s suspicious.” She mumbled.
The two enter the room. Both of them were awed.
It was like a normal home, furnished well, like any other home. The home smelled freshly cleaned, but plates and cups were set on the table, like someone was expecting guests. While Gwen looked around the rooms, Miles’ attention was to the photos.
It was Miguel, along with a woman. He followed the array of photos. At first, the woman seemed to be happy but as the photos went on and on, he could see it in her eyes… Fear, fear and more fear.
“I always knew Miguel was crazy but-”
“No.” Gwen immediately retorted.
“Didn’t you see the photos, he’s obviously obsessed with this woman.”
“It can’t be him.”
Miles sighed, “Gwen it’s him. This is probably the home to bring her to the base.”
“That’s the thing, she’s already here.” Gwen pointed to a room, “I saw her when looking around, sleeping soundly, too soundly.” It remained silent between the two.
His head snapped to the direction of the door opening, “Hide!” She harshly whispered, pushing Miles into what seemed to be a guest room, and shoving him into the closet.
Miguel entered the home with a heavy huff, slipping off his mask and his hair puffed up a little. He runs his hand through his hair a couple of times before calling out, “(Y/n)! I’m home!” But all he is met with is silence.
But that’s when he hears the slow footsteps, “Miguel?” You groggily spoke, “You’re home early.”
“Actually, I’m home on time. Did you sleep?” You tiredly nod, “Did you just wake up?” You nod again, “Awe, my poor baby.” He cooed, welcoming you in his arms.
But you’re too tired to push him away, the house was freezing and you needed something warm. You felt one hand come to your neck and his claws lightly dragged over where used to be your-
“Where’s your necklace?” He demanded the second he felt the open skin, “Where is it?” He growled.
“I-I took it off.” You managed to say, scared that he may dig his claws into you.
“Why?” His voice was like a growl, dark and deep.
“Because it was hurting my neck, it left a bruise.” You cowered. Your necklace was more like a choker. It was mainly black but it had red and blue stripes, along with gold ornaments.
It wasn’t because of the pain you took it off, it was because his last name was engraved on it. It made you feel worthless, like someone’s property. Before you took it off, you began pulling off the small gold pieces and then when he wasn’t home, you tore it into pieces. Hopefully telling Miguel that you didn’t need it or that there was no need.
“You should’ve told me sooner.” His voice returned to normal as he released you from his arms.
“But I did.” You mumbled.
“Where is it?”
“One the dresser.” You watch him enter the bedroom and come back a few moments later, the choker in hand.
“Must’ve been hurting you a lot.” Miguel can see little droplets of blood left behind, “Don’t worry about it.”
You let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll get a new one.” Your heart dropped, “I was thinking about it for a while.”
“Do you think I could go with you?” Your hurriedly asked, “If I can chose a-”
“No.” He sighed, “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You stay here, why can’t you understand that?”
“I’ll stay with you-”
“No!” He shouted, “I’ve given you everything! A home, food, clean clothes! Aren’t you grateful for everything I did for you?!”
Your eyes begin to water, “O-Of course I am!”
“Then why don’t you just listen to why I say no?!”
You jump, “Miguel…” You whimper, “You’re scaring me.”
His blood red eyes soon turned to his beautiful brown ones, they softened, “Perdóname, amor.” (Forgive me, love.) One hand comes to cup your face, “It’s just… It’s dangerous out there, you saw it yourself. Remember?”
“I do…”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“...Why would you hurt me?” You begin to panic, “I-I thought you said-!”
“That I wouldn’t hurt you. I mean it, but when it comes to breaking the rules I set, I must do what needs to be done. I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs. Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.” He kissed your forehead, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I love you.”
His grip on your face tightens when he doesn’t hear the words, “I-I love you too, Miguel.”
It made him smile widely, “Be patient for me, amor. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
And with that, he’s out of the door. Hearing the doors lock, you’re left alone in the empty and freezing house.
You cry on the spot, finally breaking in fear. Your body felt uncomfortably hot, your breathing became staggered and it felt like you were gonna vomit. Your arms wrapped around your body tightly that your nails dug into your sides. Your chest grew right as you fell to the tile floor. Shaking and hyperventilating, your stomach churned as you remembered his words.
“I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs… Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.”
Who knows how long you remained on the ground, all you could do was shake. Your chest stung and your heart raced, you were in pain all over again.
“Um, (Y/n)? Was it?” You let out an audible gasp as you saw the two teens in the room.
You pushed yourself off the ground and hurried away from them, “Wait!” Gwen put her hands up, “We’re just here to help. I’m Gwen and this is Miles.”
“Who are you- How did you get in here?!” You choke on your words, wiping the tears from your red eyes.
“We’re just running from the same man.”
You quickly shake your head, “You guys can’t be here!”
“We would’ve left sooner but… We can’t just leave you here.” Miles kneeled in front of you, “Let us help you.”
“Y-You can’t!”
“Yes we can.” Gwen agreed, “We just gotta pack up and get on out of here. I can get that started. Miles, watch her in case Miguel comes back.”
“How did get like this?” Miles asked, “I saw the photos.”
“...I met him after he lost his daughter and I didn’t think it was right for him to try to get into dating so soon but people grieve in different ways. We were supposed to take things slow but… But he talked about marriage and it made me scared. I tried taking a break but he found me. From then on, it went downhill.”
“I always knew he was crazy.” Miles mumbled.
“He’s great at manipulating people, he owns a business.” You responded. Then you heard a thud outside, “Miles, hide.” You push him away, not knowing where he went.
The door opened and in comes Miguel who doesn’t look pleased, “I heard them.” He starts, “No, I heard him.” He stepped closer, the choker nowhere to be seen, “Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat.
“¡No me mientas!” (Do not lie to me!)
“I’m not lying!” You moved back when he reached out to you, “Please, believe me Miguel!”
“Last time I did, you ran out on me! I have every nerve to not believe you.” He pushed you up against the wall, “Where is he?!”
“Leave her alone!” Miles comes around and lands a clean kick, knocking Miguel off of you, “Are you alright?”
“Miles…”
Miles puts on his mask, “Gwen will be right behind you-!” He dodged Miguel’s webbing, “Just run!” Then he charged at Miguel, taking him head on, “Go!”
You got up and rushed out the door, “(Y/n)!” You heard Miguel, “Get back here!”
You run faster. Your bare feet are padding quickly across the cold, metal floor. Then faster and faster until you nearly run into the wall. Whatever hopes you had are nearly gone when you realize that it’s just a dead end.
“(Y/n)!” You heard Gwen, she lands next to you, “I need you to listen to every word. I’m going to open the door and let you out, but it’s impossible for me to go with you. But! There are others out there, they are willing to help you. Just run and I promise you that someone will come for you.”
“What about Miles?” She hands you to the bag she quickly packed.
“I’m heading there once I know you’re out of there.” Using her webbing, she does the same as before, forcing one side of the door open. She grunts loudly, “Go!”
You jump, tumbling on your feet as you hear the door shut. The sound rang through the base and all that was left was silence. Even on the other side of the door. Nothing could be heard.
You stand, looking around. There was not a single person in sight. But you continued walking, walking, and walking… You continued to replay Gwen’s words in your head, not wanting to give up hope. But slowly it died as you continued wandering aimlessly around the base.
“Lonely isn’t it?” You gasp, freezing in place. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to, “Just like how it’s going to be when you leave. All alone and there is no one to turn to.”
You scoff, keeping your back to him, “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend one more minute with you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do!”
“Come with me and I’ll forget this ever happened, we’ll have a fresh start. Or you can continue with these foolish games. You know that you’re better with me than without me.” Miguel sticks his hand out for you to take.
For every step you take back, he takes on towards you, “How will I know things would be different?”
“You gotta trust me to know.”
You breath hitched when you felt your back hit the wall. Miguel towered over you with ease, and you hated the look in his eyes. Sorry… You hated how soft and apologetic his eyes looked. It also terrified you.
“Where’s Miles and Gwen?” You ask him now that he’s in front of you, “Where are they?”
“You have the nerve to ask me that right now?”
“I do!” You retorted, “Now where are they?” You demanded.
Miguel sighs, “They are in a place where they won’t bother us nor say anything.”
“You didn’t!”
“It had to be done!”
“You bastard! They were kids!” You dropped the bag and pushed him as hard as you could which had no effect on him, “They’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You weren’t there!”
“So?! That doesn’t give you the right to kill innocent children-!”
Miguel’s hands came around your neck in an instant, you felt the heavy pressure. Panic sets in, trying to breathe, doing anything you could do to get his hands off and breathe. Your eyes rolled back as your vision darkened. Your attempts to kick or push Miguel off fail.
Then he throws you at another wall, the pressure knocks whatever air was left and he watches you have a coughing fit. You’re too weak to even crawl away from him when he kneels down, “Why must you be so difficult? Why don’t you understand? After all these years, you still don’t understand that I am the only person who will ever love you.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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5K notes · View notes
andy-15-07 · 3 months
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Soft Spot
masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader
SUMMARY : you're going to marry Feyd-Rautha, but you didn't know he has a soft spot for you
GENRE: fluff, loveeee
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The grand halls of the Harkonnen fortress echoed with the clinking of armor and the whispers of political intrigue as you, unaware of Feyd-Rautha's hidden feelings, prepared for the arranged marriage. The alliance between your house and House Harkonnen was to be solidified through this union, a union that held more secrets than you could fathom.
As you adorned yourself in the intricate wedding attire, your mind buzzed with the weight of responsibility. The marriage was a strategic move, a chess piece in the game of power. Little did you know, Feyd-Rautha harbored a soft spot for you that went beyond the calculated alliance.
As you walked down the aisle towards the ceremonial chamber, Feyd-Rautha stood at the altar, a stoic figure in his Harkonnen regalia. His piercing blue eyes, however, betrayed a subtle warmth when they met yours.
The ceremony commenced, the officiant reciting the traditional vows that bound you to Feyd-Rautha. Yet, amidst the formality, a flicker of genuine emotion appeared in Feyd-Rautha's eyes as he spoke, "I pledge my loyalty to this union, and to you, Y/N, my chosen partner in this intricate dance of politics and power."
His words carried a sincerity that resonated within you, and a realization started to dawn. Perhaps there was more to this marriage than just political maneuvering. The enigmatic Feyd-Rautha seemed to be unveiling a side of himself that few had witnessed.
As the ceremony continued, you exchanged vows, committing to the union with a sense of duty. Unbeknownst to you, Feyd-Rautha's words held a depth that transcended the political façade. "I promise to stand by you, Y/N, not just as a husband but as someone who sees beyond the political tapestry. You are more than a strategic alliance; you are the missing piece in my life."
The celebration that followed was lavish, a feast befitting the union of two powerful houses. Amidst the revelry, Feyd-Rautha found a moment to steal you away to a quieter chamber. The tension in the air was palpable as he looked into your eyes, his usually composed demeanor revealing vulnerability.
"Y/N," he began, his voice softer than usual, "there's something I need you to know. This marriage, yes, it's a political move, but for me, it's more than that. I've developed a deep admiration for you, one that goes beyond the expectations of our houses."
You were taken aback by the sincerity in his confession. Feyd-Rautha, the formidable figure known for his ruthlessness, was baring his soul to you. "I never expected to find solace in this arrangement, but in you, I see more than just an alliance. I see a partner, someone I want to stand beside in the battles that lie ahead."
His vulnerability resonated with you, and a spark of understanding kindled. "Feyd-Rautha, I may have entered into this marriage out of duty, but your sincerity has not gone unnoticed. Perhaps there is a chance for us to find common ground beyond the political landscape."
The revelation marked a turning point in your relationship. The walls that had separated you from Feyd-Rautha started to crumble, revealing a shared vulnerability that formed the basis of a connection neither of you had anticipated.
As the night unfolded, you found yourselves navigating the intricacies of this newfound understanding. Feyd-Rautha, known for his calculated moves, was now making room for emotions he hadn't explored before. The marriage, initially a pact sealed by duty, started to evolve into something more complex, a tapestry woven with threads of unexpected emotions and genuine connection.
And so, in the grand halls of House Harkonnen, a marriage born out of political strategy took an unforeseen turn, guided by the unspoken soft spot that Feyd-Rautha harbored for you. The game of power, it seemed, had made room for the unpredictable dance of the heart.
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ellestra · 3 months
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The Voice from the Outer World
Dune is a story of failure. SPOILERS for Dune Part 2 below
Power corrupts and all of that. We all know this. So we would be able to avoid it, right? If you know what happens you can chose another option. You would be different.
And here's a story that shows that even when you know all of this and more and can literally see the future it's still not enough.
I get why people often think that to avoid this the person in power shouldn't want that power. That this would make them somehow immune. And this logic has multiple faults (like - how can you be good at doing something you hate?) and one of them is that just not wanting to abuse power doesn't mean you would do right things with it.
We are reminded multiple times in the film (and the books also aren't shy about it) that Fremen religious belief in a saviour is not something that arose naturally. It's a belief seeded by Bene Gesserit's Missionaria Protectiva. They seeded superstitions and myths in different cultures so they could use them in a future emergency. Everything Fremen believe about their Mahdi was created so their faith could be used by a Bene Gesserit in need. And both Jessica and Paul are aware of this even before they even set a foot on Arrakis.
It's specifically made for the saviour to be a foreign one (Lisan al-Gaib is The Voice from the Outer World) because the people who made and planned to use this prophecy were ones from an outsider culture. Paul doesn't hijack Fremen beliefs to insert himself as their white saviour. These beliefs was specifically created for someone like him to use.
It was made with purpose of hijacking Fremen religion into protecting the foreigners who know how this prophecy was constructed. This is a parasitic belief (cuckoo-like faith) and the truth doesn't set anyone free. We see why with Stilgar as he wants to believe so much that everything becomes a sign. Even when he's told this has been fabricated and he was manipulated he warps it into something that supports his beliefs not undermines them. I'm sure you've seen this in real life, in real politics if not religion.
Jessica and Chani got changed the most from their book versions. They've become opposite sides of the ideological divide. Not between religion and lack of it - Jessica obviously not a believer - but between using people and letting them decide their own future.
Book Jessica is more apprehensive of Paul's choices. She's often more worried he may not survive the trials than pushing for them for power. In here she becomes the driving force of using the messianic belief Bene Gesserit implanted for Paul's benefit. She makes sure Fremen believe he fits the story. She doesn't care about Paul's wishes to avoid this burden. She knows it doesn't matter when he tells the people the truth about Bene Gesserit, their abilities and their manipulation techniques. Belief is impervious to proof and confirmation bias makes you reject all evidence to the contrary.
But then, in the film, Jessica is kind of possessed. Stilgar warns Paul not to listen to the djinn but neither he nor his mother can stop listening to the voices. The film removes Alia's book doings but replaces them with foreshadowing of what she becomes. She whispers the truths about the future to her mother even before she is born. Funny how this change make her, not Paul, the first fully prescient Atreides. She is manipulating the events when Paul refuses to and that's foreshadowing too. When Jessica took the Water of Life while pregnant she did it for the power this new position among the Fremen would give her. Alia never stood a chance. She was pre-born into this.
The only one trying to stand in the way of succumbing to the power corruption is movie version of Chani. She was never believer in a saviour. She wants her people to save themselves. They already have a plan for a better future that doesn't involve killing worlds for the Empire they never wanted anything to do with. They were not supposed to be warriors of the prophet. She sees this for what it is - a way to control her people. She understands this is another form of enslavement. The only difference is that this one is embraced. No one listens to her when she tells them the truth. They only see what they want to see.
The power that comes from being close to the rule is just as blinding when you stand close to the throne as it is when you sit on it.
And the sad part is she knows she played a part in this happening to as she convinced Paul to give this a try. She didn't see the visions he saw so she hoped he can remain the person she fell in love with. When he submits to the way prescience shows him and takes over the faith we feel her heartbreak. She watches him becoming what he feared and everyone around him stops her from trying to save him (not just other Fremen or Jessica - Gurney puts atomic arsenal in Paul's hands).
Paul doesn't bring freedom. He just changes who holds the power but in the end the structures of power remain (the similarities between Saudarkar and Fremen are not accidental). And billions die so it can happen. But billions is a an abstract number. It's much easier to feel the consequences when they hit close and personal.
Everyone around Paul gets to gain something - Gurney gets revenge on Rabban, Jessica and Stilgar get to destroy Harkonnens and Emperor. They are on top now. The power corrupts even before you even hold it. Just the promise of power is enough.
This film version of Chani doesn't let us forget that this is what we watch. That what is happening is not a good thing. We as humans have tendency to gloss over big numbers of deaths when it's unseen people with whom we have no emotional connections. Through her eyes the loss is so much more personal. She loses her Usul to Paul Muad'Dib. And he takes her people and her planet too.
As Paul says - they are Harkonnens too. And they do what Harkonnens do too. The difference was always cosmetic.
And one more thing. A lot is said about Arabic and Muslim influences in Fremen culture and religion but they aren't the only ones. One other is the word used for the places where Fremen live - Sietch. It comes from Zaporozhian Cossack name for their fortified encampments - sich.
In the West the name Cossacks invokes the cruel Russian Imperial forces that tsars used to pacify conquered territories. But this is not what comes to my mind first. In the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth they were free people living in the borderlands of the Commonwealth on the territories often attacked by the Ottomans. The constant raids from Turks meant they were warriors and constantly moving. But this also allowed for a lot of freedom as there wasn't a lot of direct control over these territories for the same reason. This meant that they were often joined by anyone wishing to have that freedom - from peasants escaping indenture to nobles escaping the law.
The dissatisfaction with Polish rule eventually lead to uprising and this part of Ukraine joined Russian Empire. That Empire destroyed all the freedoms Cossacks had and those independent warriors became just another enforcers of conformity for the Empire. They've become exactly what they fought against. I often wondered if Herbert chose the name Sietch intentionally to invoke this turn of events.
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sttoru · 11 months
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“YOUR LAUGHTER IS THE SWEETEST SOUND.”
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༄ sypnosis. you’re giving your boyfriend the silent treatment and he doesn’t have a clue why. thus he decides to find out in a rather special way.
༄ note. uhhh.. satoru’s been on my mind since forever and the fic ideas just keep coming so heres another one.
༄ tags. satoru x reader. female reader. just pure, tooth rotting fluff. satoru loves u sm. nicknames such as ‘sweets, babe(-y).’
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“satoru. i’m counting to three.”
you stand in front of your boyfriend, hands on your hips and a frown on your face; satoru had taken your phone from you and is now holding it up out of reach.
“woah, ‘m so scared.” satoru mocks with a grin like the absolute menace he is, whistling a tune as he waits for you to do something about it.
you stood no chance since that man was above 6’3. that’s exactly what annoyed you most about the situation.
the reason he grabbed your phone from you was because you had given him the silent treatment ever since the early morning. for no apparent reason— or at least— one that satoru himself couldn’t figure out.
“satoru.” you sigh, clearly trying not to lose your temper with the guy.
“you have to tell me why you’re not talkin’ to me first.” the white-haired man shrugs nonchalantly, waving your phone back and forth in the air above.
you click your tongue and grab a pillow before throwing it at your boyfriend.
to your surprise, he lets the object hit him. it doesn’t faze him after all— he’s still steadily keeping your phone up with one hand.
satoru shakes his head and lets out a deep, over exaggerated sigh, “i would’ve given it back a looong time ago if you weren’t just so stubborn.”
that was a lie. he wouldn’t have.
the way satoru stood there with one hand in his pocket and the other hand holding up your phone way above his head, pissed you off so much more than you thought.
especially due to that little sly smirk that lingered on his face the entire time he taunted you.
“you’re extremely annoying.” you scoff.
after avoiding any close contact with your boyfriend for the entire day, you finally decide to get as close to him as possible. this was done with only one goal in mind: getting your phone back.
“got’cha.”
suddenly, you were lifted up and pinned down on the nearby couch— satoru hovering right on top of you while pinning both of your wrists above your head using one hand.
he had waited patiently for you to get close to him like that so he could pull such a cheap trick.
“now,” satoru starts, looking straight into your eyes as his warm breath slightly hits your face in the current state of close proximity, “tell me, baby.”
a second huff escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, “no can do.”
“aww— well, guess you left me no choice.” satoru sighs, his expression changing into a serious one.
he retreats from above you ever so slightly. you couldn’t see his eyes since his bangs covered them for the most part, though you could sense a certain shift in his aura.
“you have yourself to blame for this.”
his tone sounded like he wasn’t playing around either.
you were a second too late to react before satoru did. his hands moved at the speed of the light— landing right beneath your shirt. your eyes widened as you realised what he was doing;
satoru was going to torture the information out of you. with non-stop tickles.
“hey! s-stop!” you try to keep your expression stoic and devoid of emotion, but fail miserably at that task the moment you felt him tickling you.
“hmm? can’t hear ya.” satoru teases while his fingers kept moving quickly and repeatedly over the exposed skin under your shirt.
“you!” you try to warn the white-haired man seriously, though you burst into a fit of laughter instead.
satoru’s face lights up the moment he hears the sweet sound of your laughter. he’s grinning from ear to ear like he’s just won the best prize there was, “my baby’s so pretty when she’s smiling like this.”
neither his affectionate words nor his loving gaze had been noticed by you. the only thing you were capable of doing was laugh and try to get his hands off you.
“satoru! i swear—”
it’s like both of you were in your own worlds, focused on two entirely different things: you were trying so hard to stop your boyfriend from tickling you while he was lost in your beauty beneath him.
“tha’s not my name,” satoru pouted, increasing the intensity of his tickles.
he didn’t like it whenever you’d purposely avoid referring to him with affectionate nicknames.
you did that whenever you were upset with him and that’s why he always tries his best to not get on your nerves (keyword: tries. satoru somehow always manages to annoy you, though sometimes it’s on purpose since your reactions were adorable).
“i can’t anymore!” there’s tears welling up in your eyes due to you laughing and giggling non-stop. your stomach was also reaching its limit.
“i’ll stop if you say it,” satoru chuckles along, his blue eyes staring at you over the rims of his pitch-black lenses, “say ‘pleaaase, baby.’”
his fingers continued to ruthlessly tickle your sides while you tried to escape his grasp.
“c’mon, i know you can do it.” your boyfriend adds with a small smirk on his face.
“no way!” you shake your head while giggling uncontrollably. even in this state, you were somehow holding onto that avoidant attitude of yours.
“that’s no good, sweets.”
satoru decided to use his trump card: tickling your armpits. he’ll have you begging him to stop in no time.
as expected, you squeal and squirm around underneath the snowy-haired male, your breathing unstable due to the amount of laughter leaving your lips.
“w-wait—,” you manage to get out between giggles, “please, baby, i give up!”
satoru was content with your answer and rested his hands on either side of your body.
“wasn’t that hard, ey?”
you could see that victorious expression on his face which beamed of confidence. it made you roll your eyes.
“shut up.” you breathe out deeply as you try to regain your composure.
satoru’s thumb gently brushed your tears of joy away while he looked down at you fondly. you looked extremely precious like that; teary eyed, hair messy and a slight pout on your lips.
he doesn’t want this moment to end.
and thus he starts to act dumb.
“hmm.. what did i say again just now?” satoru scratches his head with his index finger like he was thinking deeply about something.
“nu-uh. don’t you dare.” you knew that whenever satoru feigned innocence in situations like these, chaos was going to unfold a moment later.
“that i’d stop if you said ple— eh, whatever. i don’t remember.”
satoru shrugs, that fake innocent expression turning into a mischievous one in under a split second.
before you could escape, satoru started to tickle you again. you really should’ve expected him to pull another cheap trick like that; it’s the gojo satoru after all.
“you just wait, satoru, i swear i’ll kick your ass!”
“i’d like to see you try, babe.”
your laughter fills satoru’s ears once more and it’s then that he realises for the umpteenth time how grateful he is.
he’s indebted to the heavens for granting him the chance to live at the same time as you.
at this point, satoru wasn’t even concentrated on getting information out of you. seeing you all giggly and happy like this was enough for him.
he didn’t want to pressure you too much into telling him your reason for the silent treatment earlier.
he’ll find out one way or another. just like he usually does.
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buckysbabygorl · 3 days
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Say It
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Summary: Bucky hates you and the feeling is mutual. It didn’t matter if he was attractive, or heroic, he was a grade A pain in your ass. The petty insults and the constant staring. It unnerved you. But you know how to get under his skin….
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: SMUT, enemies to lovers, swearing, gun use (no violence), begging, dom/brat dynamics
Sergeant Barnes was nothing more to Y/N than a nuisance.
He was always giving Y/N shit. At the compound, on the streets, during missions. He just never let up.
She did her best to avoid him, as being in the same room as him always brought out her worst.
He made her feel snippy and childish, resorting to constant defenses and quick retorts that left her with her head spinning afterwards.
It always felt like he got the final word, the last laugh, and it drove her crazy.
But with all his insults he dealt out, she had one solid retort. The one thing that could get under his skin… his army title.
Sergeant.
She wasn’t sure why, but nothing else phased him.
For him, it was the way she phrased it. Laced with disdain and contempt, throwing his authority back in his face.
His title be damned, she didn’t care. He may have been an authority figure in the army but he was by no means her superior. They were equals on the field and she made sure to remind him of that every chance he got.
She never called him by anything else, other than a few nicknames like asshole, dick, etc.
Never Barnes, never Bucky, never James.
Just sergeant.
And today was no exception.
Barnes and Y/N had both failed their firearms tests, or rather, neither had shown for their scheduled tests due to an emergency mission. Both were extremely skilled in their previous tests, but without passing the second time, neither of them would be reinstated as agents.
Not wanting to take any chances, Fury mandated bi-weekly training for the two. Why they had to train at the range at the same time, was beyond them.
“Your stance is off.”
Y/N huffed, glancing at Barnes out of the corner of her eye.
He stood to the side, arms crossed over his vest, gaze piercing under neath his protective glasses.
“Noted,” she chided, “Though your input wasn’t asked for, it’s noted.”
He chuckled, “Just trying to help. Wouldn’t want to fail your second time, would you?”
She reminded herself to unclench her jaw, nearly shattering her teeth in annoyance.
“I didn’t fail. I missed it. Same as you did.”
She sturdied herself, aiming for her target at the far end of the range.
She calmed herself, breathing in and out. In… and out… in—
“You’re gonna miss if you keep that stance.”
She growled, “Will you shut up and just let me shoot?”
“You need all the tips you can get, kid. No need to get hostile.”
A nickname she loathed, kid. He was always throwing it up in conversation, even when addressing her to other people. His constant reminder of how “young and inexperienced” she was.
“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll show you hostile.”
He stalked closer, leaning against the firing stall wall.
“Considering that you’re so inexperienced with a weapon, I don’t feel all that threatened.”
She disarmed her rifle and rested it, turning to face him.
“Right, right.” She said, “I have no experience with weapons. If only I had as much experience as you, tell me another fucking war story while you’re at it Sergeant.”
His face lost its smirk, dark blue eyes now glaring at her.
“You should show me some respect.”
She laughed, turning away from him.
“I should show you nothing, I don’t owe you anything.”
She picked up her rifle again, rearming it and getting set to shoot. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head. Her face grew hot, a trickle of sweat slipped down her temple.
Just breathe. Be steady, be certain. Fingers on the trigger, get ready…
“You gonna wait all day?”
That was it.
7 shots fired from the barrel, fast and paced with perfect precision.
7 holes left in the target’s chest, all she needed to pass.
She would be ready for upcoming test.
She disarmed her rifle once more, removing her tactical gloves and tossing them to the table.
“Anything else you care to say?” She asked.
His eyes had never left her form, and he smiled.
“Lucky shots.” He replied, “Hopefully they don’t clock your form on Friday.”
“Fuck you.”
She moved to walk passed him, her arm colliding with his shoulder.
He grabbed her wrist and whipped her back to the stall.
“Don’t talk to me like that. Be quiet and stand here.”
His hands gripped her hips hard, and he spread apart her legs with his. His stubble scraped her cheek, his breath hot on her ear.
He moved her as he spoke, his hands harsh and controlling. “Face the target squarely, feet shoulder width apart. Toes should face the fucking target flex your knees—”
His hips bucked against hers, “Lean forward towards the target. That’s how you take a fucking shot.”
He was breathing hard against her neck, his heart ramming against his chest. She hoped he couldn’t hear hers ramming too.
“That’s isosceles. I prefer the goddamn weaver stance.”
He didn’t move, and neither did she.
“Yeah?” He uttered, “You do that and you expose an area. Right here—”
His large hand wrapped around her torso, nearly encompassing her side.
“—that’s open from your armor. You get shot there, you die.”
She shoved him off of her, whipping around to face him.
“What difference does it make? They’re both accepted stances by the government’s protocol.”
“If you don’t give a fuck about your survival chances then why give a fuck about your test at all? Your stance matters.”
She stepped to him, her face inches from his.
“I give a fuck about my survival chances. Just because I don’t like your old school, traditional bullshit stance, doesn’t mean I don’t give a fuck about my test.”
“You refuse to take any criticism about your skills, it’s gonna get you killed.”
“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Their chests heaved in unison, their eyes wild as they dared to look at one another.
“Then you wouldn’t have to deal with the hot-shot rookie that knows more than you, that could replace you in a heart beat.”
Discarding his eyewear, he scoffed in her face. As he stalked forward, her back inched towards the opposite stall wall.
“You think you’re so much better than me, than everybody on this team. You couldn’t replace me, I’m one of the strongest and most experienced members on this team. You’re nothing but an entitled brat with your head in your ass. I can do more than you could possibly imagine.”
Things were turning dangerous. She hated that he insulted her age, she hated that he called her inexperienced, she hated that he was constantly fucking with her head. She hated that he looked so fucking hot when he was this angry, standing right in front of her.
“Oh yeah?”
She grabbed the tactical gloves and shoved them into his chest.
“Then why don’t you show me how it’s done—”
He watched as her lips snarled, hand pressed against his chest.
Don’t say it. Don’t you fucking say it.
She smirked.
“Sergeant.”
His hands flew up so fast.
Gloves fallen to the floor, her hands were pinned to the wall.
He pushed her up with his hips, body taut against her.
Her eyes were blown wide, lip dropping in awe.
“Say it again. I dare you.” He growled through gritted teeth, noses touching.
She urged her body not to tremble at his grasp, heat pooling in her abdomen.
He was testing her. Playing some twisted mind game. He wouldn’t hurt her, he wanted to see if she backed down. She wouldn’t.
“Sergeant.”
Blue eyes turned black.
His mouth was hard on hers, fingers digging desperately in her wrists. He pressed his hips forward, pushing his hardness into her clothed core.
She gasped into his lips and he took the chance to battle with her tongue. He ground himself against her again.
He pulled away, taking in her shocked gaze.
“You wanna mouth off to me? Give me attitude?”
He ducked his head into her neck and she shuttered. His hips continued their bucking.
“No respect… I’ll teach you how to behave.”
Her head was spinning, thoughts running wild from the man in front of her. All this hatred, all this fighting, now his hands were releasing hers and stripping off her vest.
Her hands were free now, why wasn’t she pushing him away?
She grabbed his shoulders to stable herself, watching as his hand dipped into her waistband. The other gripped the underside of her ass, keeping her clothed pussy right against his hardening cock.
He laughed to himself, “Is this you showing me hostile? Look at you now, nothing to say.”
She stifled a moan as his fingers drifted across her panties.
“Barnes, I—”
He awed, “There it is. No ‘sergeant’ this time, huh kid?”
He rubbed at her clit through the fabric, watching as she struggled to keep her composure.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he hissed.
“Don’t call me that.”
He leaned in to her neck, fingers shifting her panties to the side.
His voice vibrated against her throat.
“You don’t like it? Be good and I’ll call you something else.”
She gasped as his fingers entered her, strong and purposeful.
He groaned at her wetness, licking the skin at the base of her neck.
Her legs clenched around his waist, he rewarded her with another finger.
“If I’d known fucking you would have shut you up, I would’ve done it sooner.”
She swallowed a sigh as his fingers pressed against that perfect spot.
“You aren’t fucking me. You’re teasing me.”
He bit her neck and she gasped again.
“Be patient sweetheart, I’ll fuck you soon enough.”
As his thumb circled her clit while his fingers pumped into her, her eyes rolled back. Head drawn back, she couldn’t help but moan.
Bucky hummed as he fucked her with his fingers, “You like that?”
She bit her lip as he continued his teasing, his face moving away from her neck.
He leaned back and grinned, “Is that what you want? Me calling you sweetheart while I fuck you?”
“I—”
Her moan interrupted her as he picked up his pace.
He tsked as he rested his forehead against hers.
“Use your words. You wanted to before.”
She whimpered as he withdrew from her, angry with herself for giving into him as much as she had. She couldn’t let him win like this, she had to bite back a little.
“No,” she huffed, “Try something else to turn me on.”
He smirked at the challenge, and his hands dipped back into her waistband.
She wasn’t prepared for him sliding her pants to the floor, hiking her up further onto the wall.
“Fine,” he said, “but you’ll have to ask nicely.”
He was as soft as before, his fingers moving at a harsher pace. The newfound angle left her crying out, desperately clawing at his arms in pleasure.
“What do you think, huh? Maybe baby?”
He dipped his head to her chest, sucking at the delicate skin.
He didn’t need to watch her to know what she liked, he could feel it in her body. The beating of her heart and the rapid breaths she gave as he pulled her closer and closer to her peak.
“Princess?” He drawled, “No, no…”
He curled his fingers, pulling another whimper.
“How about Angel?”
She clenched around his fingers and gasped as he bit into her breast.
“Oh god—.”
“Ask me nicely, Y/N.”
Her back arched against the stall, eyes closed as he edged her.
“Fuck, yes. Yes Barnes, yes.”
She cried out as he drew her orgasm from her, hips rutting into his hand.
He groaned as she coated him with her wetness, the mewing mess he had made of her.
This was so much better than training.
“I knew I’d get you begging. I fucking knew you’d be good for me.”
He pulled her away from the wall, and she stumbled into his arms. Her eyes were glossy, hair tussled and lips swollen. All from him, all his doing. Pride welled in his chest, but he wasn’t done yet.
He spun her around, leaning her against the table that faced the targets.
“Remember what I told you Angel. Feet apart, bend forward.”
He pushed her chest down to the table, hands raking over her backside.
She growled, “I don’t need another damn shooting lesson.”
Her ass stung as his hand spanked her.
“What happened to being good, kid?”
She propped herself up on her elbows, “I said, don’t call me that—ah!”
He smacked her ass again, “That fucking mouth again. Why don’t you put it to good use?”
She sighed as he pushed her down to the table again, “What? You want me to suck you off, that it?”
He chuckled, “No Angel, I’ve got something else in mind.”
His hands swiftly removed his belt, slipping down his pants and boxers to leave him in nothing but his vest and t-shirt.
Pulling out his cock, he teased her entrance. Slowly sliding his head along her glistening folds, listening as she moaned in anticipation.
“You’re gonna say my name.”
He dipped his throbbing head in, feeling her legs tense… her pussy clench around nothing.
He pulled back and she exhaled.
“You’re gonna beg me, and you’re gonna say my name.”
She attempted to rut back against him, desperately hoping she’d take him in.
She couldn’t say his name, she couldn’t beg. She’d never live that down.
His metal hand held her in place, not letting up.
“Say it Angel,” he demanded, “Beg me to fuck you.”
“Screw you Barnes—”
His thumb was harsh on her clit, and she yelped at the rough circles he drew into her.
“I’ll leave you here, a wet fucking mess. Don’t test me, Y/N. Say it.”
“Fuck,” she cried out as he teased her with his fingers. “Fine I—”
He put the head of his cock in again, stretching her entrance.
“Bucky, please.”
He hummed, “Better. But not what I want.”
She felt herself grow cold in her exposure, Bucky pulling away and hand leaving her side.
She whipped around, “What? I said it!”
He smirked at her, shaking his head.
“First name, Angel. And beg.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
He could see it in her eyes, how desperate she was. Yearning for more, but so damn proud.
“Just say it, Angel. All you have to do.”
She hissed through her teeth, so touch starved she could cry. This would be the death of her, her legs shaking and wetness pooling at her thighs. Fuck, she had to.
“For god’s sake James, please just fuck me.”
He strode forward with ease, pushing her back onto the table.
He knew she’d give.
“That’s my girl.”
Her hips were around his waist in a second, hands in her hair and kissing her roughly as she moaned beneath him.
He bucked his hips against hers, sliding his cock along her dripping entrance.
He lined himself up and thrust into her, her head rolling back in a loud cry.
He groaned as he filled her up, her pussy tight around him.
“Fuck, you feel perfect.”
He rutted into her at a relentless pace, unforgiving as his hands gripped her waist.
“So good, Angel. Could fuck you forever with a pussy like this.”
Her fingers curled into his hair, gripping tightly as he pounded her harder against the table.
“You want that? You want me to fuck you over and over? ‘Til you can’t say nothing but my name?”
She exhaled a yes, mind too clouded from pleasure to stop herself. She was melting in his hands now, completely at his whim.
“Say it Angel, say my name.”
She was going to cum again, her vision growing blurry as it pooled in her stomach.
“James, oh god, James!”
She came hard, the lights blinding her as her orgasm took over her body.
His thrusts grew harder, determined to keep her cumming until he finished.
“That’s it Angel, cum for me. So fucking pretty when you cum.”
His hips stuttered as she looked at him, a moaning mess with her pleading eyes.
“Cum inside me James, please.”
He was done for.
He finished with a groan, body falling limp against her. Their chests rose and fell in unison, their breaths filling the quiet room.
It was dawning on them now, the wild scenario that had played itself out.
How did they get here?
Too tired to question it, Bucky lifted himself off of her.
He gently wrapped his hands around her waist, guiding her to sit up.
Silent, they look at each other.
Their faces were unreadable, dripping with sweat and cheeks swelled with red.
She tried to discern that look in his eyes, she never knew what he was thinking.
Unless he was right in her face, snarling at her, then she knew what he felt.
Anger, frustration, hatred.
This look… now that was something new.
He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair.
“Okay…” he started, “no more ‘kid’ and no more ‘sergeant’.”
She swallowed, not trusting her voice she responded with a nod.
He nodded back. “No more fighting. It’s exhausting.”
She was taken aback that, and he laughed at the look of shock on her face.
“C’mon. It is.” He pointed between them, “Our energy is much better spent on this.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Wow, just like that?”
He nodded. “Mhm, just like that. You drive me crazy but, I can’t say I haven’t been thinking about this since the day we met.”
Speechless again, she stared at him as he continued.
“You’re frustrating, you make me worried, you—hell you’re reckless and it scares me. Feels like I have to keep an eye on you all the time.”
“You are frustrating. You don’t trust me to take care of myself or the team.” She said
He shook his head, “Not true. You’re a great agent, but I meant what I said. You don’t take criticism.”
She scoffed, “And you criticize too much.”
Still shocked at the events prior, she didn’t shove him away as he moved to hold her.
She shocked herself further by wrapping her arms lazily around him.
“Well,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “we’ll work on that.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sloppily written but hey, we get what we get and don’t get upset.
Taglist:
@pigeonmama
@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable
@dumb-ass-3
@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes
Bucky tag list:
@emmabarnes
615 notes · View notes
fxrmuladaydreams · 7 months
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i’m sorry i love you (ln4 + op81)
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poly!landoscar x reader
summary: after being placed last in qualifying, oscar and his girlfriend comfort lando, but what happens when it’s revealed lando feels more deeply about the two of you than a friend should?
notes: !!CONTAINS SMUT MINORS DNI!! omg guys it’s my first ever poly!landoscar full length story
warnings: panic attack, threesome, p in v, oral (male receiving), sub!lando, dom!oscar, sub!reader
Lando practically throws his helmet into the arms of someone from his pit crew. He storms off, uncaring of any cameras that may be around to broadcast his tantrum.
He’d just finished qualifying, finished on pole position. He was going to start at the top of the grid, when the news had spread. The FIA had done checks on some of the cars, and his was against the rules. It was stupid, something that wasn’t in his control at all, yet he still had to find out in a public setting, just after he felt on top of the world.
Oscar’s car wasn’t pulled for the check, so he was still able to drive in his qualifying position tomorrow. He felt his frustration grow worse and worse the more he thought about it. This was just another chance for Oscar to show him up, to show everyone just how much better he was than Lando in his rookie year.
And yet, Lando couldn’t be mad at Oscar. He wanted nothing more than to hate the Aussie just a little, to feel some type of anger for him, but he couldn’t. Oscar was a good guy, he was nice, he was funny, he was great to be around when he finally opened up.
He was fine with this sudden fondness growing inside him for his teammate, he felt the same way about Carlos when they were teammates. Then he met you.
You were the adoring girlfriend to Oscar Piastri. Perfectly sweet, and equally beautiful. You had been nothing but nice to Lando. And there was his problem.
You and Oscar were perfect for each other. You brought him out of his shell, gave him more confidence. And he made sure to always keep a smile of your face. That was why he refused to do anything about the feelings that slowly grew in his chest for the both of you.
Lando knew that tomorrow would be hell for him. That he’d have to see Oscar do well, likely earning another podium finish, then see him scoop you up in his arms and show the whole world how much he loved you. All while Lando would have to attempt to climb back to the top of the grid just to get in the points.
He avoided anyone he could on the way back to the hotel, steering clear of reporters and McLaren workers. He drove his car back to the hotel, and strode through the lobby to the elevator with his hood pulled up over his head and dark sunglasses over his eyes.
He was able to shower, to try to scrape the shame from the day off himself before the knocking started. He figured he could just ignore it. Whoever was on the other side of the door would just assume no one was there and they’d leave. But whoever was on the other side of the door was persistent.
“Lando! We know you’re here!” The Australian accent called through the door.
Lando sighed, pulling himself up off his bed then dragged himself to the door to swing it open.
There you stood with Oscar next to you. Oscar was still in his McLaren team kit, and you were still in the same McLaren shirt you’d worn to the paddock. Neither of you had made it to your hotel room yet, too concerned with Lando’s disappearance.
“I’m not really in the mood guys-” He starts, but stops when you walk past him, entering his room.
“That was fucked. Telling you in front of all those cameras like that? What the hell?” You sit down on the bed.
Oscar gives Lando a sympathetic smile then follows you inside.
Lando was surprised by your colorful language and the anger you seemed to have for the FIA. He shrugs sitting down next to you.
“There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Mate, if they had checked my car I’m sure we’d be in the same position.” Oscar says as he sits down at the desk across from the two of you.
“But they didn’t check your car. They checked mine. So now I’m P20, while you get to start on pole.” Lando snaps. He can feel you shrink at his sudden outburst. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”
His head falls to his hands as he takes a few deep breaths trying to regain his composure. He can feel your hand softly stroking up and down his back.
“You two don’t need to stay. You can go celebrate Oscar’s pole.” He says once he lifts his head back up.
His eyes are red, almost bloodshot, welling up with tears he’s refusing to let fall.
You wrap an arm through his and lace your hand with his. “We’re not leaving you alone right now Lan. We care too much about you.”
Lando groans. He stands up pulling himself away from you and takes a few steps away. He wants to put some distance between the three of you. He wants to make sure that he doesn’t let himself fall for the both of you even more than he already has.
“You can’t say shit like that.” His words are quiet.
“But it’s true.” You say standing up.
“Lando-” Oscar starts, standing up.
“Stop! Stop! You both need to stop!” Lando holds his hands out in front of him, backing away from the two of you. “I can’t-I can’t do this.” He whimpers leaning against the wall. He can feel the tear falling down his cheeks now. He quickly tries to wipe them away from his eyes.
He can feel his breathing start to pick up as his heart starts pounding in his chest. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. The qualifying results along with your insistence on comforting him has made him feel like he’s choking on nothing.
Oscar immediately clocks the panic coursing through his teammate. He slowly reaches out and pulls Lando back down to the bed. You stand up, giving him space as Oscar grabs a bottle of water from Lando’s fridge, uncapping it and handing it to him.
Lando slowly sips on the water, taking a few minutes to calm down. He closes the cap and places the bottle on the table next to the bed. When he finally looks back up at you and Oscar his eyes are filled with shame.
“I’m sorry…” He murmurs.
You sit down next to him again and wrap an arm over his shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for Lan.” You tell him softly. “It’s okay.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
“Mate, it’s fine, it’s okay.” Oscar says as he sits down on the other side of Lando.
Your arm slips from Lando’s shoulders as Oscar’s wraps around him, pulling his head to lean against his shoulder.
Lando finds comfort being sandwiched between the two of you. With Oscar’s arm around him and your hand now softly playing with his fingers he feels like he can finally breathe again.
“I’m sorry you guys have to help me with this, that I need you here with me…” Lando says, his voice slightly muffled in Oscar’s shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Oscar asks, looking down at him.
You hear Lando take a deep breath, lifting his head from Oscar’s shoulder, then looking back and forth between the two of you. He sits up and moves away from Oscar, pulling his hand away from yours as well.
“I’m sorry I feel the way I feel… I’m sorry I’m in love with you.” His last sentence comes out in a breath. He stands up from the bed again, trying to put some space between you. “Both of you. I’m really sorry. And I don’t want things to get awkward now, because you’re my teammate,” he gestures to Oscar “and you’re my teammate’s girlfriend,” then he gestures to you “so it’s impossible to avoid either of you after this.”
You sit on the bed silently, watching as Lando paces back and forth now, rambling about how nothing has to change, and he’ll be able to move on with time.
“We don’t want you to move on.” Oscar cuts him off.
Lando stops mid sentence. “What?” The sleeves on his hoodie fall past his hands as his fingers fidget. “What do you mean?”
“Lando,” you stand up, slowly walking towards him “we both have feelings for you too.”
“You do?”
Oscar nods. “It was weird at first, both of us admitting that we liked you to each other, but we felt like it was something we could work through. We didn’t want you to find out and get freaked about it.”
“Oh.” Lando still doesn’t look convinced as he shifts his weight on his feet.
You take a few slow steps until you’re standing in front of him, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours. “Can I kiss you Lando?”
He nods his head and breathes out an answer. “Yeah.”
You raise a hand to cup his face, tracing your thumb over his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed.
He’s almost surprised to feel your lips against his, like this was all some dream he’d made up in his head. You feel just the way he imagined, soft touches and slow intimate movements.
The hands that hold his waist do surprise him. He can tell they’re Oscar’s, the size alone makes it obvious, but he can feel them holding onto him firmly.
Oscar stands behind Lando, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck.
Lando feels his heart pick up again, but this time for an entirely different reason. What once filled him with anxiety now sends a thrill through him. He’s excited to be with you, both of you.
He’s getting far too hot pressed between the two of you, pulling his lips away from yours to take a much needed breath.
“Should we move over to the bed? To get a little more comfortable?” Oscar asks as he softly sinks his teeth into Lando’s neck.
You pull Lando to the bed by his arm, and push him so he’s sitting down on the edge of it. Oscar sits down on his knees behind Lando, running a hand through his curls. You crawl onto Lando’s lap, straddling him as you tug at the bottom of his hoodie.
“Can I take this off?” You ask.
He’s quick to nod his head in response. You tug the hoodie up over his head and throw it to the side. His bare torso is revealed, the tanned skin on display. You reach out and run your hands down his chest, over the lines of his abs. He sighs, and leans his head back against Oscar’s shoulder.
“He’s so pretty Osc.” You say as you admire the boy under you.
“He is.” Oscar nods.
Lando blushes under your gaze, turning his head to look at Oscar. Oscar looks down at him with a smug smile on his face. He knew the affect he had on the British driver fairly early into their partnership, but finally getting to act on these pent up feelings was something new and exciting.
Oscar leans down to press a teasing kiss to corner of Lando’s mouth, smirking as Lando practically chases his lips as he pulls away.
“I think Y/n wants your attention.” Oscar nods to you.
When Lando turns back to look at you he can see that you’ve removed your McLaren shirt and bra and start to softly tug at the waistband of his sweatpants.
His hands reach out to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him as his lips attach themselves to your collarbone. His teeth leave little indents in your skin, red patches appear alongside other older marks left behind by Oscar.
You roll your hips against Lando’s as your head falls back from the pleasure. Lando whines against your chest, lifting his hips slightly to meet yours.
Oscar palms himself through his jeans as he watches you and Lando. It’s clear the two of you are starting to lose control, and he’s more than happy to take the reins.
“Is Lando making you feel good?” He asks you.
“Yes, so good.” You whimper.
“Then maybe you should make him feel good too.” He says.
You slide off of Lando’s lap, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. You tug your pants and underwear down and toss them to a corner of the room.
You knew that Lando was attractive, anyone with eyes would be able to see that, but you didn’t think that his cock could be just as pretty.
It’s not as long as Oscar’s, but it’s thicker, the girth alone makes a wave of arousal travel down your core. You wrap your hand around it, and softly stroke it up and down.
Lando lets out a soft groan, letting his eyes flutter closed. You climb back onto Lando’s lap, continuing to stroke him slowly as Oscar tilts Lando’s head back to him. He leans down and kisses the Brit, smirking into the kiss as Lando moans against his lips. Oscar’s hair hangs down as he kisses Lando, slightly blocking their eyes, brushing against Lando’s face.
You grind yourself against Lando’s thighs, desperate for more attention as you watch the two boys kiss.
“Can I ride you Lan?” You ask as your hand slows down against him.
Oscar pulls himself away from Lando and nods in your direction.
“Do you want her to ride you?”
“Please.” Lando whimpers.
His whines quickly turn into moans as you slowly sink yourself down on him.
He feels different than Oscar, his thick cock stretches you wider than Oscar’s has as you struggle to take all of him.
Lando struggles to hold himself back from thrusting up into you, wanting nothing more than to buried completely inside you. You’re warm and soft, and wrapped so tightly around him that he swears this is what heaven feels like.
You’re finally able to sit completely on Lando after a few minutes of rocking back and forth on him. You take a second to catch your breath before slowly grinding down further on him.
Lando can’t pull his eyes away from you until he hears the metal from Oscar’s belt clink around.
He turns to see Oscar watching him with a smirk. “She feels good, doesn’t she?”
Lando can only nod his head, his eyes squeeze shut when you start to slowly lift your hips up then sink back down onto him.
Oscar pulls his pants down, then tugs his boxers down as well. He wraps his hand around his cock, slowly pumping it. His other hand tangles itself in Lando’s hair and gives it a sharp tug backwards.
Lando huffs out a breath as he stares up at Oscar, his eyes now a bit glassy from the pleasure he feels from you. His eyes drop down to Oscar’s cock, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Want a taste?” Oscar asks.
Lando leans towards him and licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, letting his tongue brush against the head and collect his precum.
Oscar sucks in a sharp breath as Lando’s tongue licks around the head. His grip in Lando’s curls gets tighter as he pushes his head closer to his cock.
Lando takes the tip into his mouth, softly sucking and swirling his tongue around it. Oscar can feel vibrations come from the occasional moan from Lando as you start to ride him faster.
The room is filled with a mix of sounds coming from the three of you. Your slick as you ride Lando, bouncing up and down on his cock, Lando gagging as he tries to take more of Oscar down his throat. And none of you are being particularly quiet. Your moans mixed with Lando’s muffled moans, and Oscar’s deep groans bounce off the walls. God help whoever had the room next door to Lando’s.
Oscar is the first to cum. How can he not when Lando looks up at him with big doe eyes as he hollows his cheeks around his cock. Lando can feel Oscar’s release shoot down his throat, the warm salty cum coming out in spurts as Oscar has his head thrown back, thrusting himself into Lando’s mouth.
You can’t help but clench around Lando at the sight. You’ve given Oscar head before, but you don’t know if it’s ever actually felt as good as what Lando had done.
Oscar’s chest heaves slightly as he pulls himself from Lando’s mouth. A string of saliva connects Lando’s lips to Oscar’s cock. Oscar gives him a lazy smile.
“Why don’t you help Y/n cum just like you helped me? Play with her.” He instructs Lando.
Lando doesn’t hesitate to move his hands to your body, playing with your tits, pinching your nipples. One of his hands finds it’s way down to where you two connect, and softly rubs at the little bundle of nerves.
You yelp and lift yourself higher on his cock before dropping down again. Your thighs feel like they’re on fire, the muscles getting sore from the constant movement. Lando presses his fingers against your clit again, now much more sure of himself than before.
Tears begin to form in your eyes as you struggle to keep your pace. Lando begins to thrust up into you to help keep the rhythm you’ve set. His arms flex as they hold himself up on the bed. Yours wrap around his neck as you bury your face in his shoulder.
“I’m gonna cum Lando.” You whimper as he presses harder against your clit.
He feels you clench around him one last time before you cum. You moan out both his and Oscar’s name as you cum, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Your release triggers Lando’s as he shoots his cum deep inside of you. He hold you down onto his cock as he continues to thrust up into you, pushing his cum as far as he can in you.
You slowly peel yourself off of Lando, whining at the empty feeling between your legs. You glance over at the two boys now laying down on the bed. Both are covered in a light sheen of sweat. Oscar has now pulled his shirt off as he lays back, softly stroking Lando’s hair.
You lay down on Lando’s other side, resting your head on his chest.
“That was… wow.” He says, his voice a little gruff. “Is it like that every time?”
“We don’t have threesomes Lan.” You softly giggle. “We only sleep with people we love.” You press a soft kiss to his flushed chest.
“So you better get used to it, because now you’re stuck with us.” Oscar tells him as he buries his face in Lando’s neck.
You and Oscar let sleep wash over you, wrapped up around the British driver, who just smiles to himself pulling the two of you closer to him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I loved you sooner.” He whispers into the darkness.
1K notes · View notes
saintobio · 1 day
Text
blank canvas: the epilogue.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache
notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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TWO YEARS LATER
Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 
Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.
So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.
The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.
But one person was conspicuously absent. 
It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.
As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”
Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”
“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 
Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 
“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 
You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.
For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.
As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.
“Nii-san!”
“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 
Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Sukuna.
He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.
It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 
“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 
Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 
“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 
You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.
It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.
When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 
As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 
Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 
You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 
You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?
Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 
Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.
“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 
“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.
There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”
He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 
“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”
You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” 
“Mhmm.” 
The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.
“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 
Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 
— —
You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 
Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.
“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 
You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 
“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 
The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 
You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”
You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”
Oh.
Of course. 
What did you expect?
His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.
But it was all too late. 
He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”
Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.
“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”
You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.
He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.
But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 
“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”
“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 
Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”
You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”
You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”
As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.
While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 
That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.
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