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hisui-dreamer · 11 months

Text

never too late

Characters: Jade, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 4.1k+

Notes: same as the last two, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese

also wow classical music makes me so inspired i wrote so much

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Miharu (翠晴) with 翠 meaning "green, emerald, jade" and 晴 meaning "clear, fine, serene"

your daughter has straight teal hair and slightly angular eyes that are a complete replica of her father's

the name you chose for her has a strong connection to jade, also representing the peacefulness you found in Jade's presence

she's a quiet child who always has this calm smile on her face

she's loves being independent and hates asking other people for help

there are some times when you have to hold her and tell her "hey, you can rely more on your mother you know?"

she doesn't look like she wants physical affection, but when she's accomplished something, you'll notice her staring at you in anticipation

when you reach your hand over to pat her head for a job well done, she smiles so contentedly and just melts at your affection

loves playing around with plants and fungi, and thankfully she's quite good at managing them, so sometimes you can save money on groceries

loves swimming in the ocean, but much prefers clinging onto you in the water

will turn to her eel form if in bodies of water for too long, so you're careful about what times or places have fewer people

incredibly intelligent and good at quick thinking, always curious to learn more about fungi, magic, etc.

seemingly calm when you told her about her intelligent and sly father, but soon after learning about him, she'll ask questions about him a lot and start practising magic more

and when she finally accomplishes teleporting you two to him, you're in a pantry that smells of fresh tea leaves, and he's looking as elegant and charming as ever as he pours water into the teapot, his hair is sleeked back and the grace exudes just puts you in a trance

Jade's eyes widen as he beheld a sight that only seemed possible in his wildest dreams. There, standing before him, was the person he had loved so deeply and had thought lost forever.

"My love... is it really you?" Jade whispers, his voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and hope. His heart thuds in his chest, the sound reverberating through his entire being.

Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes as he closes the distance between you, his steps quickening with a sense of urgency. He envelops you in a tight embrace, his arms holding you firmly, afraid you might disappear once more. "Oh my pearl, how I longed to turn back time and not have let you go, to have kept you here with me," he whispers hoarsely, his voice trembling with a mixture of joy and sadness.

Jade is showing more emotion than you've ever seen and you're both crying and holding each other tightly

eventually, floyd barges in to tell Jade azul's complaint about how long he's taken to make the long-forgotten tea

when floyd sees you, he immediately tries to come over and squeeze you

but Jade is having his moment so he lifts you and keeps you away from floyd's grasp

pouting, instead floyd diverts his attention to Miharu, who's just curiously staring at him

eventually eventually azul shows up to see why everyone has disappeared and he's incredibly surprised to see you two

he complains that Jade will be busy for a while then, but you can see his eyes are teary and there's a soft smile on his face

for quite some time, Jade is incredibly alert when it comes to you, always paying attention to your needs, your feelings, and if you get up in the middle of the night for a bathroom break, he wakes up with you and waits outside the door until he can hold you again, and then he'll carry you back to bed

he didn't realise how important you had meant to him until you were gone, how lost and empty he felt, so best beware, he's never letting you go again

oh he's so cute with Miharu!!! building terrariums together and comparing notes and cooking mushroom meals together

father-daughter swimming sessions!!! sometimes floyd and azul join

definitely pranks azul as a trio, but azul can't get mad at her hahaha

you can tell Miharu is so enthusiastic about spending time with uncle floyd

Jade cries crocodile tears that his dearest daughter prefers his brother over him

and Miharu just tells him "well you belong to mommy, so i'll have uncle floyd"

the twin eels can't say they're unhappy with that arrangement, now can they

and don't forget mama and papa leech! they love spoiling Miharu with trinkets and treasures they find!

Jade's smiling genuinely more than ever, and you can't believe how lucky you are to have both him and Miharu in your arms

You direct your eyes towards Miharu, and his gaze follows yours, a tender smile tugging at the corners of Jade's lips. "And this... is she our child?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. He crouched down, his hands gently cupping her face, his fingertips tracing the familiar features.

"I'm so sorry," Jade confessed, his voice filled with raw emotion. "I've been such a terrible father, I've missed out on so much of your life,"

Miharu's hand instinctively rises to meet his, her small palm finding solace against his cheek. A gentle reassurance emanates from her touch, and her voice, soft yet resolute, pierces through his self-doubt. "It's okay, daddy," she murmurs. "It's not your fault.

Without hesitation, he pulls her into a warm and encompassing embrace, enfolding her in his arms as if shielding her from the world. "Oh, my darling, you are such an angel," Jade whispers against her ear.

Hidaka (陽夏) with 陽 meaning "sun, sunlight, positive" and 夏 meaning "summer"

your son has spiky white hair, glowing tan skin, and ruby-like eyes that often sparkle with joy

you named your son after his father's sunny disposition, and the warmth in scarabia that you look back on fondly in your memories with him

hoo boy you got yourself a piece of bouncing sunshine

he's so bright and happy and warm and there's always a wide smile on his face that makes anyone who sees it feel re-energised

will often do things on impulse out of pure curiosity, but if you tell him off he's immediately apologising and hoping you're not mad at him

snuggles so much!! the first thing he does when he sees you is run up and jump into your arms

he's always willing to share what he has with others, and is friendly with everyone

though he has a big appetite, he's not picky about food and will happily eat anything you give him

he's not the smartest and is rather oblivious much like his father, but he makes up for it with how passionate and motivated he can be

but when he's determined, he can be surprisingly smart

when he heard about the kind and brave man his father was, he was visibly shaking in excitement, firing question after question

and before long, his determination to reunite his family brought the two of you into a dim room lit by a single nightside lantern

Kalim sat at the bed clutching a turban you had gifted him, his face has matured and lost most of its baby fat

Kalim's lips are parted, his breath catching in his throat as he sits there, rooted to the spot. "This... this can't be real," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, as he takes a tentative step forward, his heart pounding loudly.

His feet move as if guided by unseen forces. His eyes fixate on your face, searching for any sign that this is not a figment of his imagination. A fragile smile begins to form on his lips, the corners of his mouth quivering with a mix of disbelief and joy.

His steps quicken, echoing through the room, each one carrying him closer to the person he thought he had lost forever. And then, in a burst of exhilaration, he is by your side, his arms encircling you with a strength born from the depths of his soul.

"It's you," Kalim gasps, his voice filled with raw emotion. His grip tightens, his embrace both gentle and fervent as he twirls you around in the air, a whirlwind of emotions propelling him forward. Laughter escapes his lips, an expression of pure elation and gratitude. "Thank the heavens you're back! I never thought I'd see you again!"

oh he's crying waterfalls nonstop, you and Hidaka try to comfort him and wipe his tears but he only cries harder at your touch

at this point, jamil bursts into the room,

alert and thoroughly confused why Kalim is crying in the middle of the night

though when he sees you, his expression visibly softens and after asking a few questions to confirm your identity, he genuinely welcomes you back

his reaction to Hidaka is "oh no another one" but with the way he lifts him into the air and the teasing smile on his face you can tell he's not completely serious

after graduation, Kalim worked hard to inherit the Asim family business and has grown to become a successful businessman who cares for his workers and people

jamil willingly offers to take over Kalim's role for a while so that he can spend time catching up with you two, and it's clear from their exchange their relationship has improved a lot

Kalim, despite having seemingly matured, clings onto you like a child and you feel things haven't changed much at all

as the heir, he has been pressured to get married, but it didn't feel right for him when he still longed for you

so he's incredibly glad you can now permanently be the person who stays by his side, showing his affection by showering you with gifts and snuggling with you any chance he gets

he's great with Hidaka too! they're both super energetic and curious though, so occasionally jamil or you have to step in and be the reasonable person

so many impromptu trips on the magic carpet with the three of you just exploring places and going wherever you want!

he's also very very cautious about your security, all of a sudden he has a wife and a healthy heir, so undoubtedly there are some eyes turned to you

but Kalim has grown stronger and wiser to be able to protect what he cherishes, so he's not letting any harm come your way

Kalim gently pulls back, his eyes flickering between you and the little boy who bore an undeniable resemblance to him. "You've brought us such an incredible gift," he whispers, his voice tinged with awe. "A child, our child. I can't believe it..." His voice trails off, trailing into a breathless hush as he tries to comprehend everything.

Bending down gracefully, Kalim positions himself at eye level with Hidaka. "Hello there, little one," he murmurs, his words floating on a cloud of softness. "I'm Kalim, your...dad." The weight of the word lingers on his tongue.

Hidaka's face lights up like a radiant sun, a beacon of pure joy. Without hesitation, he lunges forward, embracing Kalim in a tight hug. Laughter bubbles up from within him, filling the air with a melodic symphony. "My daddy!" he exclaims, his voice a chorus of excitement. "I've always wanted to meet you!"

Kalim's tears fall freely once again as he wraps his arms around Hidaka, holding him close.

Honoka (火華) with 火 meaning "fire" and 華 meaning "flower, splendour, brilliance"

your daughter had bright yellow eyes that seemed to shine in the dark, and seemingly normal curly blue hair, until it would act in a similar way to Idia's hair when she became emotional

you named your daughter after her father's fiery hair, his inner brilliance and potential, and of course, the idea of a flower blooming in the underworld (Persephone vibes hehe)

she's the child who's quiet and introverted on the outside, but has so much to say when she's alone with you

most of the time she's generally soft-spoken, mumbling and acting shy with strangers

but oh wait? there's a pop-up arcade of her favourite show??? gremlin child activated

ridiculously good at games, even if she just learnt the rules, it's very like she'll end up being the winner

you used to spend a lot of time styling her hair, but there were too many instances where soon after finishing styling, her emotions became too unstable and her hair turned into flames

still braidable, just not explainable to strangers

she's kinda like a cat in the sense that she'll act like she doesn't care or not want your touch, but when you pat her head or brush her hair, she just sits still and beams at your affection

definitely clings onto you when there are too many strangers and she's scared

ridiculously smart and good at math and technology, and she had no issues learning magical theory from you

when you told her about the brilliant but shy man her father was, she was dying to meet him when he sounded so similar to her

and after running some tests and calculations, she connected her magic to Idia and the next moment you know, you were in the Styx science lab, with Idia, his hair tied up, his eyebags worse than ever, standing right in front of you

Idia's heart skips a beat as he catches sight of your figure emerging from the radiant light, a surreal moment that defies all expectations. "OMG, it actually worked..." he exclaims, dropping his tablet to the floor, forgotten in his rush towards you.

With each stride, the weight of years apart seems to evaporate, replaced by a resplendent glimmer of hope that grows brighter with every passing moment. His palms grow clammy, but undeterred, he continues his determined approach, craving the warmth of your presence.

He finds himself standing in front of you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The room seems to shrink, narrowing down to just the three of them, the air heavy with anticipation.

Idia's voice quivers, his words delicate as they tremble in the air, like a fragile melody woven with threads of longing and regret. "I...I can't believe it's really you. I've missed you so damn much." His voice cracks with emotion, his vulnerability laid bare as he reached out to hold you.

Idia's crying and Ortho's right next time him congratulating his success, though there's a loving and emotional tone to his robotic voice

he's holding you so tightly and crying and he just melts into your arms and warmth

soon after graduation, Idia began working more and more at styx to inherit the family business

but a side project of his for the longest time was opening a portal where you could go back and forth between two worlds

and miraculously, his system connected with Honoka's magic and you were back!

idia's incredibly nervous and surprised he has a daughter, and he has a mild panic attack before he's a bit more calmed down with your and Ortho's help

but once things have settled down a bit, you'll start living comfortably with your family in styx

though idia may be busy at times, he always has ortho with you or some cameras near you so you won't suddenly disappear on him

you're basically irreversibly a part of the shroud family now, and in his mind, you really didn't get to choose

his anxiety about you leaving keeps him up at night, but when he wakes up from nightmares and you're the first thing he sees, he slowly calms down and curls his body into you to feel more of your warmth

gaming sessions with Honoka!! he introduces all sorts of his favourite games to her, though you make sure they're not too violent and inappropriate knowing him, and they bond over playing and introducing games to each other

family game nights with you four playing basically Mario party or co-op games!!

and though Idia's still working on breaking the family curse, even more motivated now because he doesn't want it affecting Honoka, he's so grateful fate has finally given him this happiness, to be able to live together as a family with his most cherished people

Trembling with a mix of excitement and trepidation, Idia knelt down to meet Honoka at eye level, his voice filled with a gentle warmth. "Hey there, kiddo. It's... it's really nice to finally meet you." His words carried a hint of awe, as if he couldn't quite believe that this precious little being was a part of him.

Honoka's eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and recognition, her small hand reaching out to touch his hair. She uttered her first words, a tender melody that danced in the air. "You have the same hair as me... Daddy?" she asked curiously.

Tears welled up in Idia's eyes as he comprehended her words, a tender smile graced his lips. His voice choked with love and gratitude. "Yeah kid, I'm your daddy." He pulls her into a hug, "Let's play lots of games together, yeah?"

Keitarou (蛍太郎) with 火 meaning "firefly" and 華 meaning "eldest son"

your son has black hair that fades at the tips to a blue reminiscent of the sky right before sunrise, and shimmering emerald eyes with a reptile-like slit in them

you named your son after the night you first met his father who manifested as fireflies, and a reference to the nickname you chose to call him

your son is very polite to strangers, but he struggles with getting along with his peers

he'd love to make friends, but his aura comes off as overwhelming to other people, so unfortunately he does feel a bit lonely

but he loves it when he's at home with you, when you shower all of your affection onto him and he feels so loved and cherished

he loves his mama so much he always wants to help you with chores and whatnot, but unfortunately he can be rather clumsy and oblivious which leads to more problems being made

but in those situations, you always show him the correct way of doing things, while also reassuring him it's okay he made mistakes, what's important is learning from them

super clingy and cuddly! sometimes he becomes territorial and his dragon tail appears and curls itself around your limbs

you have masterfully disguised his budding horns by wrapping his hair around them, explaining to others than he liked this Halloween costume so much he wanted it done everyday

being half fae, he's incredibly talented at magic and it really does come as second nature to him

when you told him about his charming yet fearsome father, he was really curious about this figure, but also a part of him wondered why his wonderful mama would choose someone like him?

well, mama seems to miss him a lot, and Keitarou loves nothing more than seeing you happy, and all of a sudden, you're standing in the throne room or the dark gothic castle, and right across the room was the King of Briar Valley, his expression stone cold and cautious until he met you eyes

Silver and Sebek, positioned in a defensive stance, braced themselves for whatever entity would emerge from the swirling portal. As the portal dissipated, revealing the figure within, Malleus gasped, his breath catching in his throat. A surge of emotions overwhelmed him, an electric current coursing through his veins.

His steps quickened, propelled by an overwhelming desire to bridge the chasm of time and distance that had separated you for far too long. The distance between you closed swiftly, his graceful stride carrying him closer to the embodiment of his deepest longing. The words that slipped from his lips were laden with a tenderness and longing that only you could evoke.

"My dearest Child of Man, is it truly you?" Malleus murmured, his voice a fragile whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile reality that had materialized before him. His outstretched hands trembled, yearning to cradle you once more, to feel the warmth of your presence.

A mixture of awe and reverence coated his words as he continued, his voice barely audible but drenched in profound emotion. "You came back. It's been so long, far too long..." His voice trailed off, swallowed by the weight of the years that had separated you.

he's so shaken the rain has cleared up to bring about a beautiful rainbow that hovered over the castle

silver and sebek go to get lilia, and it's a heartfelt family reunion

they've all seen how Malleus has returned back to his hollow shell of existence after you left, and they're so glad his eyes are glimmering with emotions once again

though some are more direct about it, and others felt the need to rant about how cruel it was to leave them (we love you sebek)

though he's been urged by his advisors to quickly marry and start producing an heir, he's adamantly refused because he firmly believed nobody would ever make him feel the same way you did

there are some advisors who are secretly unhappy with the fact that the queen is human and the new heir is half-human, but nobody would dare say a word when they see the Malleus Draconia act like an oversized puppy dog with his head in your lap

plus, Keitarou magical prowess and intelligence easily put them in their place

Malleus, with your return, has grown more openly dramatic and affectionate

for example, if you mention you like a certain flower, the next day the entire garden is replanted to that exact flower

do calm him down a bit so he won't be too extra with his love language

Keitarou and Malleus sort of have this rivalry between the two of them to get the most of your affections

but they do eventually reach a truce when they both agree you're the most important thing in the world

but you know, general lighthearted sabotage on both ends, Keitarou wants to sleep with his mama, so papa can sleep alone yeah?

no it ends up with the entire family sleeping together and you're sandwiched in the middle

well, at least it's a happy family of two possessive dragons and possibly a baby princess coming on the way?

Keitarou hid behind your legs, his small frame peeking out to catch glimpses of the man standing before you.

"Hm? Is he... our child?" His voice carried a soft tremor, as if he dared not let himself believe in the possibility. But your nod, filled with affirmation and a love that transcended time, set loose a cascade of emotions within him. A serene smile graced his features, radiating warmth and a profound sense of peace.

Malleus turned towards Keitarou, his eyes tender and gentle, a wellspring of paternal affection flowing freely. "Hello, young one," he began, his words carrying a weight of significance that only a father's voice could hold. "I am your father, and it is a pleasure to meet you."

Keitarou's wide eyes glistened with a mix of wonder and cautious hope as he listened to Malleus's gentle words. "Hello," he murmured, his voice filled with a blend of innocence and an innate longing for connection. "I... I'm Keitarou," he continued, his voice wavering slightly but growing stronger with each syllable. "It's... it's nice to meet you, Father."

Malleus's smile widened, mirroring the joy and relief that flooded his own heart. With open arms, he enveloped Keitarou in a warm embrace.

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Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 4✧Masterlist

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #jade leech x reader #jade leech #twisted wonderland jade #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #twisted wonderland kalim #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus

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tamayula-hl · 7 months

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I have illustrated many Dad!Ominis, but as I have not yet published my headcanon on DadOmi, I would like to explain it in drawing and text because I am not good at English😳

In my headcanon, Ominis discussed this with his girlfriend, MC, while he was still at school, and they chose to drop the Gaunt name and elope together. The pair jumped ship on a steamer to the USA soon after graduation. As you know, the Gaunt family has ties to the USA, as the mother of the founder of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the USA was born a Gaunt, and there is a Slytherin wand buried in the garden of that school.

(This is an illustration of that scene that I posted on Twitter in May, but there are lots of things I want to correct 😂)

They then started a new life together in the USA, where Ominis was lucky enough to get a job as an employee at MACUSA, which had just moved to New York and was short-staffed. (I have no idea of the details of how Ominis, under a pseudonym that presumably hides his Gaunt family origins, was hired as a permanent employee, and whether his obvious posh English could hide his identity in the US. Never mind the details!🤣)

And secondly, how Ominis became a father in the place where he eloped. In my personal opinion, he would surely be reluctant to leave offspring, even if he became a couple with the woman he loved. A witch named Rionach Steward, daughter of the founder of Ilvermorny School, has become so thick with Gaunt blood that she is rumoured to be a Parselmouth. She remained celibate for the rest of her life in order not to leave her cursed blood to future generations. Ominis is very serious and thoughtful and, like Rionach, would not want to leave the Gaunt blood flowing in his body to future generations.

Where Rionach and Ominis differ, however, is that he is a man. If Ominis were heterosexual and had a healthy body, it would be difficult for him to completely abstain from sexual desire for women. (As an aside, I think this dichotomy is the spice that makes Ominis' smut more attractive.)

Two young, loving people who are financially strapped and starved for entertainment are sure to indulge their carnal desires. Soon, they find out that MC is pregnant.

In other words, in my headcanon, ominis become fathers for the pathetic reason of contraceptive failure. I guess there are two sides to this, but of course I am convinced that Ominis is not the kind of irresponsible man who would run away from an unwanted pregnancy. Ominis will be very bewildered, but he will be cheerful in front of his pregnant wife and will support her with dedication, as in the manga and illustrations I posted the other day! During MC's pregnancy, Ominis will be repeatedly struck with anxiety, but as he sees his wife's belly growing bigger day by day, he will gradually develop paternal feelings for her. And after the birth of his first child, when he holds his baby for the first time, Ominis will be moved by the preciousness of the creature in his arms and the weight of life, and he will awaken as the best dad…!

I hope that Ominis, who became a father after unexpected events in his elopement, lives happily ever after, chewing on how precious a healthy family is😍.

Of course, it's all my headcanon, so I like different people's different ideas about Ominis' future! Anyway, I am happy as long as I see Ominis living a long and happy life..!

Thank you for reading my long story 🫶🫶🫶

A Japanese translation of the text is placed in undercut. (ほぼTwitterで書き散らかしていた妄想をまとめたものです。画像内の文章を和訳する元気はありませんでしたすみません…😂)

（機械翻訳にブチ込む用に書いた文章なので、ちょっと変ですがご容赦ください🙏）

私の脳内設定（headcanon）では、オミニスは在学中にガールフレンドであるMCと話し合って、Gauntの名を捨て、二人で駆け落ちすることを選びました。二人は卒業してすぐにアメリカ行きの蒸気船に飛び乗りました。

その後二人はアメリカで新生活を始め、ニューヨークに移転したばかりで人手不足のMACUSAでオミニスは運良く職員としての仕事を手に入れました。（おそらくGaunt家出身であることを隠している偽名のオミニスがどのように正社員として採用されたか、また、明らかなposh Englishを話す彼がアメリカで素性を隠しきれるかどうかについては、私は細かいことは全く考えていません。こまけえこたぁいいんだよ！）

ご存知の通り、アメリカのIlvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardryの創始者の母はゴーント家の生まれで、その学校の庭にはスリザリンの杖が埋まっているなど、Gaunt家とアメリカには縁があります

そして次に、駆け落ち先でオミニスがどのようにして父親になっていったかです。私の個人的な意見ですが、彼はきっと愛する女性と夫婦になっても、子孫を残すことを嫌がるでしょう。 Ilvermorny Schoolの創設者の娘のRionach Stewardという魔女はParselmouthという噂があるほどGauntの血を濃く継いでしまいました。彼女は呪われた血を後世に残さないために生涯独身を貫いた。オミニスはとても真面目で思慮深い性格なので、Rionachと同じように、彼の身体の中に流れるGauntの血を後世に残したくないと思うでしょう。

しかしRionachとオミニスが違うところは、彼が男性ということです。 Ominisが異性愛者で健康的な身体を持っていれば、女性に対する性欲を完全に断つというのは困難でしょう。（余談ですが、この二律背反こそ、オミニスのsmutをより魅力的にさせるスパイスだと私は思います）

金銭的な余裕もなく娯楽に飢えた、若い愛し合う二人は、きっと肉欲に溺れるはずです。そして間もなく、MCの妊娠が判明するのです。

つまり私のheadcanonでは、オミニスは避妊失敗という情けない理由で父親になります。これについては賛否両論かと思いますが、もちろん、オミニスは望まぬ妊娠から逃げ出すような無責任な男ではないと私は確信しています。オミニスは非常に困惑しながらも、妊娠中の妻の前では明るく振舞い、先日投稿したmangaやイラストのように献身的に彼女をサポートするでしょう！ MCの妊娠期間中、オミニスは何度も不安に襲われるでしょうが、日に日に大きくなる妻のお腹を見ていくうちに少しずつ父性が芽生える。そして第一子が誕生後、初めて赤ちゃんを抱いた時に、オミニスは腕の中にある生き物の尊さと命の重みに感動し、最高のパパとして覚醒するのです…！！

駆け落ち先の予想外の出来事から父親になったOminisが、健全な家族がどれほど尊いものかを噛み締めて幸せに生きていてくれればと思います😍

もちろん、全て私のheadcanonなので、オミニスの将来については、色んな人の色んな考えも好きです！とにかく私は、幸せに長生きしているオミニスが見れればそれで幸せなのです…！

長い文を読んでくれてありがとうございました🫶🫶🫶

#hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy fanart #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt headcanon #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis gaunt x mc

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janearts · 7 months

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Roisia Lydgate: Character Overview

This is really more of a background introduction to her character, but I'm trying to put as much information in one place for future reference or for anyone who wants to get a better idea of her character. Details underneath the cut!

Meta-Knowledge

Roisia is my Source Hunter from Divinity: Original Sin, but I recreated her in Baldur’s Gate 3 as a way to continue her story albeit in a completely different universe. The story and events of DOS have since become part of her backstory, and tweaked to fit the world of Faerûn.

Name Pronunciation

I’m honestly none too fussed about pronunciation. Her name is an 11th century mediaeval name that would later become “Rose” in Middle English. Roisia is probably meant to be pronounced something like /ɹɔɪːsiːɑ/ (Roy-see-ah) based on other name variants found around the same time. Her nicknames, as given to her by her parents, include: Rose, Rosie, petal, pet, rosebud, bud, so on and so forth.

Personality

Roisia is charming, adventurous, with a voracious curiosity, and a deeply analytical mind. She believes that taking care of the dead and providing a voice for the dead is her life’s calling. She was formerly raised to be a Cleric of Kelemvor, but believes that her god has disowned her since she reanimated her father. She now believes herself to be deemed among the Faithless. She’s compassionate to those in need and is willing to break rules (and the law) to help others. While she is generally a law-abiding citizen, she is dogged in pursuing the whims of her curiosity and will likewise do whatever it takes to solve a puzzle, a mystery, or a murder… or simply answer a question that has occurred to her. She is sociable, prefers when everyone gets along, and will try to talk her way into and out of most situations. This includes charming, reasoning, intimidating, and/or deceiving others to get her desired outcome. Ultimately, she finds solace and comfort in the company of animals, the dead, and books. Her favourite animal is the noble spider, and she breeds and raises some species in her spare time.

Spells and Such

I tried as best I could to replicate Roisia’s DOS character. In DOS, she was classed as a Witch. Witchcraft spells in DOS are a mixture of Necromancy spells and Enchantment spells, and I chose my spells in BG3 to imitate the ones that you get in DOS. As a witch in DOS, Roisia also had the ability to talk to animals and summon a spider. (I cheesed this in BG3 with the Find Familiar spell—technically a Conjuration spell—and having her drink a potion after every long rest.) To be more in keeping with her backstory, I gave her a Guild Artisan background and invested skill points in skills like Medicine.

Backstory

Roisia grew up in Eastway of Baldur’s Gate. Her father worked in the Gray Harbor shipyard as a shipwright and her mother was a Mortarch, running the Eastway Cemetery & Lydgate Funeral Service. She was raised to follow in her mother’s footsteps as a Cleric of Kelemvor, and specifically as a Mortarch, from an early age. She assisted her mother in managing the burial customs and rites for the Lower City’s diverse community (from embalming to ritualistic cannibalism to poisonings), comforting grieving family members of the deceased, and tending to the dead buried in the cemetery.

Her life took an unexpected turn when her father drowned during a sea trial. Grieving for her father, Roisia made her first attempt at Necromancy. She unwittingly used a wish spell in the process and reanimated him as a skeleton. Because it was the wish spell, not her first attempt at a necromantic ritual, that bound the soul of her father to his bones, Roisia is determined to master the School of Necromancy and truly resurrect her father.

She is interrupted in her early studies by the appearance of Eustace, who recruited her into the Source Hunters, an organisation dedicated to eradicating dangerous magic users (like… Necromancers). “We need you,” he said. “… and you need us.” Roisia & Eustace (or Roy & Stacey as they became known to each other) investigated the mysterious murder of a town counsellor and uncovered a Necromantic cult in the process. As they adventured together, Roisia began to develop feelings for Eustace, but as their adventure concluded and they returned to the Source Hunter Academy, Eustace did not return those feelings. Dejected, Roisia left the Source Hunters and returned to her home in Baldur’s Gate.

To “cure” herself of her heartbreak, Roisia drew up a list of lifelong goals for herself. They are:

1. A cemetery or plot of land of her own to oversee. 2. “Tenants”/”Residents” (aka The Deceased) to house and tend to on this land. 3. To master Necromancy such that she can extend indefinitely her own life and the lives of her loved ones. 4. One (1) Spouse (*not of the squeamish variety) 5. Children (*ideally 3-5)

Refocused aggressively on her list, Roisia returned to her duties during the day and her studies during the night. She was abducted by the nautiloid one night while she was off to dig up a new test subject.

Playlist

#BG3 Roisia #Roisia #taggin #tatterings #here you go!#rosecanons #roisiacanons #Spotify

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omgthatdress · 9 months

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Barbie made her debut in 1959. The way she was sold then is a little different than the way she's sold now. These days, individual Barbies come with their own unique looks & usually some kind of unique function or accessories. You can buy clothes separately, but those looks are still secondary to the expectation of buying a lot of Barbies. Back in the day, you bought the one Barbie and then bought her clothes separately. This is why back then Barbie came with a bunch of friends and always came wearing a swimsuit.

The oft-memed origin story for the classic Barbie is that she was modeled on a German sex doll named Lili, which is only partially true. In the 50s, most dolls available for girls were baby dolls that primed girls for being a wife and mother. Fashion dolls were a thing but they were generally more reserved for adults.

Ruth Handler, who co-founded Mattel with her husband and served as its president from 1945-1973 (#girlboss much?), got the idea of making an adult doll for girls when she'd see her daughters playing with paper dolls. Instead of playing with babies, they chose teen-aged and adult paper dolls and played fantasized versions of adulthood. Then, on a trip to Germany, Ruth saw a Lili doll in a store, and asked her daughters what they'd think of playing with a doll like that. Apparently, they liked the idea.

Lili the doll wasn't an inflatable fuck doll. She was based on a popular comic strip character Lili created by Reinhard Beuthien and published in the Hamburg-based Bild Zeitung. Lili was a buxom gold-digger seducing her way through the wealthy men of post-war West Germany.

The comic was definitely adult-oriented, and the doll it created was a popular bachelor party gag gift.

The introduction of a doll with breasts did cause *some* controversy, but it was more pearl-clutching rather than tremendous cultural outrage. Barbie was actually an immediate hit. She fit in very well to late 50s ideals of femininity. I've heard it said before that parents liked her because she helped little girls get into the beauty, fashion, and level of grooming that she would need to catch a husband. IDK if that was intentional, but it seems to fit very well.

I don't want to get into whether or not Barbie is this huge feminist icon or not because, well, she's a toy. I think Ruth Handler was an incredibly smart businesswoman who saw a market demand and met it. Barbie is about the power of fantasy and imagination, and anything that people see in her are the things they want to see in her.

In her incredible multitude of careers, she also holds up an impossible and toxic standard of beauty. Mattel has always been very aware of Barbie's image. I'm pretty sure that the reason Mattel hated "Barbie Girl" so much wasn't because it was wink-wink sexual, but because it nailed the popular stereotype of the time that Barbie was this fake, plastic bimbo who was an unhealthy role model for girls (go listen to Aquarium, now!).

youtube

The recent years of Barbie taking on a more empowering, feminist, and diverse lean is because Mattel is simply correcting course and keeping up with the times. Honestly, they've done a very good job of it, but I'm not going to kid myself into thinking they're doing anything other than maximizing profits.

I love me some Barbie but I was always an AG girl, ngl. However, I think Barbie and her cultural context are still incredibly fascinating and worth taking a look at.

#Youtube #Barbie

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randomgurl2326 · 28 days

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Silver Springs

Luke Castellan x Hecate!reader

Summary: Luke cheats on Y/N and she finds out before their band’s biggest gig ever. Y/N looks back on all the obvious signs

Warnings: mean!Luke, toxic!luke, gaslighting, cheating, mentions of cheating, overall shitty writing

A/N: This was originally going to be very different. I liked the concept but I think i did a very shitty job on this. Definitely not my best. Anyway, thank you for reading and feedback is ALWAYS ALWAYS appreciated. Love you guys

You could be my silver spring

Blue-green colors flashin'

I would be your only dream

Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin'

This summer was the worst yet. Sure, your mother had claimed you. Sure, your siblings were nice. Sure, you had the most recognized band in Long Island Sound. Sure, you had the best—

Oh, wait, not anymore. You no longer had the “best” “most caring” boyfriend. What a load of shit. The Hermes boy had cheated on you for almost three whole months without you knowing. In all honesty, it was so fucking obvious. The one time you chose to believe the good instead of letting your head telling you the “lies” he always said it fed you.

Again, what a load of shit.

Don't say that she's pretty

And did you say that she loved you?

Baby, I don't want to know

You were in the dressing room waiting for Clarissa right before your band—Half Of Us—played the biggest gig of your minuscule lives.

Clarissa comes barreling in through the door as you hum and bite your nails, “I need you to forget everything that has happened this summer and sing your heart out like you never have before because there are about a thousand people out there.”

You grab the girl’s shoulders, “hey, hey, calm down. Nothing’s happened and nothing is going to happen, okay? I need you to sit and calm down.” You lead her to the couch in the corner of the dressing room and hand her a water bottle to drink.

Clarissa thanks you and takes a sip but still pants a little as she speaks, “Okay, okay. I may have gotten a little ahead of myself there. I’m good… Yeah, I’m good now.” She lets your words sink into her and she frowns. “Wow, I totally would’ve thought you would’ve freaked out once he told you. I mean, what Luke did to you-“

Your eyebrows cinch as you think, “wait. What did Luke do to me?”

“Wait, wait, he hasn’t told you? He told me-“ Clarisse curses. “That bastard! He told me he told you!”

You yell out confused and angry, “CLARISSE! What did Luke do?”

Her face drops as she looks into your eyes and tells you. “Sweetie- I don’t know-“

You like her straight into her eyes, “tell me.”

She sighs holds onto your arms. “Luke’s been cheating on you,” her words come out rushed, “with Shane.”

That fucking Aphrodite bitch.

So I'll begin not to love you

Turn around, see me runnin'

I'll say I loved you years ago

Tell myself you never loved me, no

Don't say that she's pretty

And did you say that she loved you?

Baby, I don't want to know

Oh no

And can you tell me was it worth it?

Baby, I don't want to know

As you sit there with Clarisse and taking it in Luke and the boys come in howling and laughing. Once the three of them look at you and your heartbroken face they quickly quiet down.

Chris is the first to speak and try to break the silence, “woah, what’s with the bum fest—“

Before he can finish you get up and rush into Luke and push him up against the wall, “what the fuck is wrong with you, huh!?!? I loved you with everything I had! Everything! And you ruin it all for some fucking bimbo who bats her eyelashes at you!?!? Answer me!”

The boys are all quiet as you hold Luke by his shirt against the wall and Clarisse who’s looking proud.

When he doesn’t answer you tell again. “Answer me, Luke Castellan!”

“Yes, okay! I cheated on you! Is that what you wanted to hear?” He practically roars at you as you yell. You let go of shirt and push him.

Your eyes sting as tears pool at your waterline. You have to push them back and will your voice not to break as you speak, “I bet she was real pretty, huh? Let me guess, she told you she loved you after the first time you fucked her and you let her believed you did. Was it fucking worth it, Castellan? Breaking my heart just to hurt hers next? You know what, I don’t even want to know!”

“Listen, Y/N, it meant nothing,” he tried to speak but you shut him up with a glare and point right in his face. “Two months means nothing? Oh well, loving you must’ve meant nothing, Castellan. Based on that logic, you never even knew me!”

You choke down a sob as you let your hand rip and look up, eventually looking straight into his dark eyes, “other than anything band related, I never want speak to you. I never want to see you. I never want you hear from you. I don’t even want to smell you! Is that understood?”

You back up from the boy and grab a bottle of day-old Jack Daniel’s and chug as you see the two other boys looking at you wide-eyed, “don’t even get me started on you two.”

You walk out the door as your guys’ manager was coming in to tell you to get on stage.

Oh no

And can you tell me was it worth it?

Baby, I don't want to know

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

I know I could have loved you

But you would not let me

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

All five of you walk out onto the meticulously set stage and wave out to the crowd. Clarisse goes to stand behind her keyboard, Beckendorf sits on his drum stool, Chris stands on the lady picking up his bass, Luke—in his downtrodden glory at being caught—slides his guitar strap on, and you in your almost drunk state goes to the mic stand.

Your flowy cream-white sleeves drape around your arms as you take ahold of the mic stand and speak into the mic, addressing the roaring crowd, “how’s everybody tonight?” Your words don’t even slur and the fans roar even louder. “Alright, alright. Not so bad, you laugh a little, “y’know, tonight is a very special night. Yes, a very special night indeed… But, before i get into that, i have a question for you all: have any of you ever been cheated on?” The crowd roars on in agreement. “So, a few of you? You guys know how that feels like right? Your heart starts beat in’ fast and you feel like the whole relationship was a lie?” You look to Luke who’s already staring at you, “well, this new song is all about how that feeling feels. Everybody, this is Silver Springs…”

The crowd roars at the sound of a new song and Clarisse plays the opening chord on her keyboard as you look at Luke.

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Flashback One

“Luke, can’t you just understand how I feel for a second? I mean, seeing my boyfriend, that I love flirting with another girl-“

Luke takes your shoulders and his soft eyes make you melt as he looks at you with such tenderness, “sweetheart, nothing is going on with Shane and I, okay? She just needed help with some stuff in the Aphrodite cabin. Selena was there, okay? You know I love only you. C’mere.”

He leads you into his arms in a tight embrace and your insecurities melt as you close your eyes and sigh, “I know, I know. I’m just being silly, Luke. I love you.”

He rubs your back and kisses your forehead, “I love you, too, sweet girl.”

What a fucking lier.

Flashback Two

You and Clarisse are sitting by the lake sharpening daggers as she speaks up, “we got a new Aprhodite camper today. Did you see?”

You smile, “yeah, Shane I think? She seems nice.”

Clarisse laughs, “yeah, other than her totally looking up Luke today when he was showing her around. She seemed so nice when she was trying to pull the moves on your boyfriend.”

Clarisse and you laugh a little at her joke, “Luke wouldn’t do anything with her. I mean, he loves me. He wouldn’t do that. Even if she is really pretty.”

The Ares girl gets serious and nudges your shoulder, “hey, you’re really pretty, too. I mean, come on. It’s Luke we’re talking about here. That boy follows you around like a little puppy.” She puts her hands up and looks up at you mocking the way Luke looks at you, “‘oh please, master Y/N. What do you need me to do next?’ That boy is down bad.”

You laugh and shove her, “he does not! Chris is worse than him.” You copy the girl’s earlier actions, “‘Saint Clarisse, I will win all of your affections. Tell me what I must do!’ He’s a hound, Clarisse.”

“I know, we just attract pathetic men.”

“That’s for damn certain.”

Oh, how right you were.

Flashback 3

You were sitting on your bed in the Hecate cabin waiting for Luke to come and pick you up for your three month anniversary date. He scrambles in thirty minutes late looking disheveled.

“Pretty girl, I am so, so sorry. I got a little sidetracked but I got everything ready, and I got cleaned up-“ you cut off his ramblings with a short kiss and pull back as you taste tangerine gum—he hates tangerine.

You decide to put that thought away and calms his soul-called nerves and smile. “Hey, you’re hear now. That’s all that matters. It’s our anniversary. I can’t wait to see what you planned.”

Luke leads you out of the cabin, “you’ll love it pretty girl. I love your dress…”

Tangerine, huh?

Flashback Four

Luke is grabbing onto his head as he talks, “y’know, sometimes I feel like you jealousy and insecurity are too much. We were having a nice time until you decided to bring up Shane-“

“You mean the girl you’ve been hangin out with more than your own girlfriend? Yeah, my jealousy is totally the thing coming between us right now, Luke.” You cross your arms and clench your jaw as you look at Luke with a piercing glare.

He sighs and groans, “she was trying to help me figure out the best gift to give you for your birthday! She isn’t here all year, so I had to ask her before the summer ended! Gods, you had to ruin the surprise, didn’t you?”

You look down and feel a pang in your chest as you leer into your boyfriend’s chocolate eyes with un-needed guilt, “I-I’m sorry, Luke. I didn’t know… Gods, I’m the worst. She was trying to help you get a present for me. Luke, I’m sor-“

Before you can finish he takes you into his big, warm arms, “it’s okay, I forgive you. Next time don’t make such a big deal, okay? She was helping me. I love you, and only you.” He kisses your forehead.

You nod, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

Help? Yeah, she helped him.

Present

As all those memories flood back, so do the feelings from each one of those memories. You close your eyes as you clench the mic; pouring your soul out for each and every one of these people to hear. Eventually, you open yours again and look to Luke who’s no longer looking at you, but to the front row.

You look to who or what he’s looking at as see-

Of-fucking-course it was Shane.

Was I such a fool?

I'll follow you down til' the sound of my voice will haunt you

Give me just a chance

As the song goes on you walk about the stage and jam out with Chris, Charlie, and Clarisse. You go back-to-back with Chris as he fires off a deep riff on his bass, you hang with Charlie as he beats away on his drums, and you sit down with Clarisse as she slowly plays her keys.

And as you finally get to Luke you sway with him and smile at him and he smiles back, believing that you “came to your senses” and forgave him. You lean in to his lips and swerve at the last second; whispering, “we’re fucking over you manwhore. Get over your fucking self.”

You walk away from him—almost strutting—putting the mic back on the stand just in time to look back at him—smiling—and sing the final lyrics that would haunt him for years to come, resonating throughout the arena as her voice wrapped around his heart. Squeezing like a vice.

“I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me… You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you”

#what is this #this was kinda shit #luke castellan #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo #pjo series #luke castellan x you #x reader #luke castellan x reader #angst #mean!luke Castellan

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softestnatalie · 8 months

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Abandoned corridors of the heart

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!reader

Timing: Season 1

Summary: You were on your own when the apocalypse started, not having much family or friends. That, however, changed when you met a grumpy redneck in the woods. In desperate need for help and a group, you chose to trust him just the slightest bit. You didn't expect him to change your life the way he did.

Warnings: large age gap, mild language, swear words, daryl being an ass, violence, blood and gore, character death, sexual content, just basic TWD stuff, topics like sexual assault and self harm

Autor's note: Hi! This is my first The Walking Dead fanfiction. It will start in season 1 and end in season 11 so this chapter will play in the first episode of TWD. Of course I will put in my own plot as well. The female character is supposed to be the reader, not an original character, so I won't describe her looks and you can imagine her however you want. She does have a backstory tho. The warnings above are for the story in general but I will try to put warnings for each chapter. That being said; have fun reading babes! <3

Chapter 1: The home you lost

You didn't know how it started or when exactly it started, but you knew it was spreading quickly. They were talking about the unknown illness on TV, playing it on the radio, warning as many people as they could. That's how you first heard about it - the terrifying sickness - you just didn't take it as seriously as you should have. You were living with your mother to that time - only being 19 - so you told her about it in hopes she would ease the little worry you were feeling.

She didn't - couldn't. You remember the look on her face when you told her - the slight widening of her eyes, the raise of her eyebrows, and the way her mouth parted the smallest bit in shock - and you knew she wouldn't be able to comfort you even if she wanted to because she was even more worried than you.

It was only a few hours later when you saw a weird figure on the street while you were walking home. It made you squint your eyes in order to see the walking sillouette a bit better, not that it helped in any way. You realised quickly that it wasn't a person - not a living person at least because, really, no living person could look like that and it made you shiver nervously. The groaning was getting louder the closer that 'thing' got to you and only then did you decide to continue moving and get home as soon as possible. You were lucky that day.

You decided against telling your mother about the incident. Not only because you weren't able to process what you saw yourself, but because you didn't want to cause her any more fear than she already had, so you kept quiet.

Everything was still pretty much normal - people went to work, friends were being met, and places were being visited. A few things did change though. Everyone was being more careful when they were outside, almost like they had a third eye on the back of their head. What scared you a little more were the people walking through your city - definitely too many to count and the masses only got bigger as days passed. Some of them were covered in blood while others were completely clean. It was clear to you why these people left their home and what their goal was and it made you question how long it would take until you would be one of them, deperately looking for a new home.

You and your mother decided to stay at home from that point on because it was simply too dangerous to step a foot outside. Both of you called in sick for work, making sure you wouldn't have any problems when all of this was over. It only took a few days until stores and businesses had to shut down or were run over by 'them'. Things got even worse when your food was starting to run out, barely getting you through these few days, and your mother offered to go out and get more from a nearby grocery store, but you declined. The last thing you wanted was your mother getting hurt.

Only another two days later did you change your mind. The food was officially out and you had to rationate the little bit of water that you had left. You knew someone had to go out and get supplies in order for you to survive. Your mother shook her head almost angrily when you asked her if you should accompany her on her way, telling you it was important for you to stay as safe as possible and that she would never allow you to put yourself in that kind of danger. A mother is supposed to protect her child.

So you waited inside your shared apartment, biting your nails in nervousness - a habit you just couldn't seem to overcome. You glanced at the old clock hanging on your wall - 5 minutes had passed. Under normal circumstances she would only need half an hour to come back with what you needed but given the current situation she would definitely need longer. That's why you weren't suspisious when your mother wasn't back after an hour had passed. But when the two hour mark was reached and there was sill no knock on your door, you felt your fingers twitch nervously.

You thought for a moment, not knowing what to do. But you knew rather quickly that you should go and look for her. So you put on your shoes and a jacket, grabbing the keys for your house before shutting the door behind you. Your heart was starting to beat quickier the more steps you took. It was your first time going outside since all of this - whatever 'this' was - started and only now could you see what kind of impact it had on your city; whole buildings were destroyed, the otherwise busy streets were empty - not a single moving car - and where couples and families were once walking together was now an empty sidewalk.

The only noises being heard were the wind blowing softly around you and disgusting groans in the distance. You kept your pace steady and fast as you looked for your parent but you quickly lost all the hope you had when you reached the little shop and there still wasn't a single sign of your mother. You opened the glass doors slowly, carfully stepping inside and your mouth opened in shock at the condition the shop was in. Shelves were pushed to the ground and almost all of them were empty.

You called the name of your mother softly but when you didn't get an answer and the store remained silent, your shoulders dropped in disappointment. You decided to take a few of the suppplies with you before you left the store again. 2 bottles of water - not much but enough for a few days - and a few packs of sliced bread. It was all you could carry since you didn't take a bag with you.

Your heart made a big jump inside your chest and a little squeal left your lips when you saw a head between two fallen shelves. It was rotten and somehow a light shade of gray, it's teeth yellow. You would have covered your nose if your hands wouldn't have been holding the things you needed to live because the smell was just so disgusting, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

It was time to go back, you decided. You looked around once more before you turned around and pushed trough the doors, leaving the body behind. You kept your eyes open on your way home, hoping you would catch a sight of your mother - without success. Still, you were trying to think positive; maybe she would already be home by now, waiting and worrying for you.

You were wrong. The house was empty and the only thing that had been waiting for you was silence. A deep breath left your mouth as you walked into your kitchen, not even bothering to take off your shoes, and put down the food and water. You lowered your head, putting your hands on the kitchen counter for stability. You felt alone - so utterly alone - and you missed your parent more than words could describe. Guilt was bubbling up inside you because you let her leave. You should have gone with her, helped her.

Only when you opened your eyes again did you realise you were crying, soft tears running down your face and making your head ache. Another shaky breath left you as you sat down on your couch. You left the front door unlocked because there was still a chance of your mother coming back and you wanted her to be able to get inside at any time of the day. The chance was slim but it was there.

It was slowly starting to get dark outside when you got up to eat some of the bread you found, taking the water with you as you sat on the couch again. You thought it would be the best to stay on the couch for the night since it was close to the front door and you wanted to be here if your mother came back and you knew you wouldn't be able to get any sleep anyway.

That's what you did for the next few days. Eat, wait on the couch, sleep for a few hours, and wait again. But she didn't come back and at this point you started to understand that it would probably stay that way - that you wouldn't get to see her again - and it made you cry harder than you thought was possible. Still, you didn't dare to lock the door because maybe, just maybe, she would come one day.

Things were going okay until you woke up one night with noises coming from your door. It was dark outside and your clock proved that it was way past midnight. Your were frozen for a moment but you moved quickly when the door opened, a smile forming on your lips. It faded as quickly as it came when you realised that whoever was in your house definitely wasn't your mother. And before you could think of what to do, the figure was standing right in front of you, a clicking sound filling the air before he pointed something at you. It was too dark to recognize it but you could imagine what it was.

"Stop," the voice spoke and you were pretty sure it was a male talking to you. You didn't dare to say anything in fear of saying the wrong thing. "Don't move," he spoke again.

It was quiet for a few moments before you heard his voice once again, "Do you have food?" He asked you in a rather harsh tone. You nodded your head as slow as possible, lifting your hand and pointing in the direction of your kitchen, "Just bread," you whispered, "You can take it - you can take it all - just leave again, please."

The man started walking backwards in small, heavy steps but still kept the gun pointed at you. He grabbed a pack of sliced bread and looked at it before he put it down again and chuckled quietly, "Oh, baby, this is my home now. Feels safe enough here."

He shushed you when you started to talk, pleading for him to just leave you alone. "You can choose how you want this to end," he walked closer again, stepping right in front of you and pressing the cold end of the pistol against your forehead. "Option one: you're gonna put on your shoes and walk straight out that door," he nodded is head into the directon of your front door, "You won't come back and everything will be fine. No one has to get hurt."

You winced slightly when he pressed the gun even harder against you and you shook your head silently. You didn't want to leave - you had nowhere else to go and you would never survive out there - especially on your own.

"Option two: you will refuse to leave and well," his voice got quieter towards the end and he trailed the gun down the side of your face, "There won't be enough space for the both of us."

You sayed still as you thought about his words and you felt the need to cry again because you knew that either option would mean your death. That man would kill you if you decided against going and if you decided to go and try your luck out there, you would probably die within the first day. Staying inside your home - which held some of your most important memories - would be the easier death. Definitely less painful.

Still, you went to put on your shoes in slow steps, signaling the man before you that you wouldn't do anything stupid and were planning on leaving. Why did you think option one was the better one? Because it gave you hope and at least the smallest bit of a chance to survive.

The intruder chuckled again, "Good choice."

Your shaking hands made you fumble with your shoelaces before you walked towards the still open door, giving the person one last look before leaving the house you've been living in for the past 19 years behind. As soon as you could hear him close the door you let your tears fall, allowing yourself to be weak for the millionth time this week because how could everything go so wrong so damn quickly.

You didn't know where to go or what to do because you didn't even get the chance to take a bag or anything similar with you. You were alone - lost the only person you were still close with and now even your home. It made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest and you just wished it would end - wished that your life how it was just a few weeks ago would return.

The first place you visited was the shop from a few days ago in hopes of finding food once again. You weren't so lucky this time - the shop was completely empty, not even a single pack of anything left. So you went to a few other shops but the only thing you could catch at the end of the day was one can of coke. Obviously, other people were just as desperate and needed food and water just as much as you did.

A few days later you found yourself in the woods a few miles away from your home town and you were honestly suprised you were still alive. You hadn't eaten since you got kicked out of your own house and the coke ran out after a few nights. The weather was good for the most part but the nights were really cold and not having a jacket with you wasn't making it easier.

Luckily for you, you didn't really have many enounters with those 'rotten people'. You saw a few but you always managed to hide successfully before they could cause you any harm. You wouldn't have known how to defend yourself if one of them would've attacked you - you wouldn't have known what to do. You didn't know a lot about them in general. You knew they were spreading the illness by biting still living people but other than that you were completely clueless.

Your clothes were drenched in dirt just as well as your exposed skin and not having any way to shower just made you feel worse about the whole situation. A few cuts were decorating your left arm caused by your stupidity when you tripped over your own feet and scratched your arm against a tree when you tried to catch yourself.

Your feet were screaming in pain after hours of walking and looking for something - anything. A place to stay, something edible or something to drink or maybe even your mother. By now, you were sure she was dead - or one of the 'walking deads' - and you slowly started to come to terms with it. Still, the uncertainty was killing you. You needed to see her - needed to say goodbye to the person who had raised you for the past 19 years.

You decided to take a break and took a seat at a nearby tree, leaning your back against the hard surface when you felt like your feet wouldn't carry you for much longer. You leaned your head back in exhaustion, letting yourself relax for at least a few minutes. God, how you wished to be home in your bed right now, your mother sitting in the living room and watching her typical shows. You missed those times. So much.

Thinking about your mother was always hard. Losing her was the biggest loss you ever had to face in your life. She was always a very loving and caring person and you were so incredibly thankful for the good life she was able to give to you. Not having a father figure made you both grow really close, making her not just your mother but also your best friend.

It was truly-

Your thoughts got interrupted when you heard a loud grunt echoing through the woods and your first reflex was to jump up from the sitting position you were in and look around you in quick motions. You couldn't see anything near you - no danger or somthing that could cause you any harm. You were about to continue walking when you heard yet another grunt.

You pondered for a moment before you decided to walk into the direction the noises were coming from. You had no idea why you did what you did but something inside you told you it was the right thing. You picked up a stick from the ground just in case you had to defend yourself.

It only took you a few seconds to find the source of the noises and your mouth opened in pure shock as you watched to scene in front of you. Right there, on the ground in a forest, was a man lying on his back with his arms high above him, trying to hold a dead person away from him. Its head was dangerously close to the strangers face, its teeth making a loud sound as it tried to take a bite.

You were frozen for a moment, not knowing what exactly you should do - not that there was much you could do. You were weakened because of the days you had to get thorugh without having any food. You thought about turning around and hide once again but you quickly decided against it. Instead, you thightened the grip you had on the stick in your hand because you had to at least try and help the man.

So you took all the braveness you had left inside of you together and moved as fast as you possibly could, raising your arm and smacking the stick against the creatures head with force. Your hit forced the dead person to let go of the man and roll over the tiniest bit. It wasn't much but it was enough for the man to get back on his feet and grab the crossbow - which was leaning against a tree a few meters away - and pointed it at the creature. One of his arrows pierced through its head right when it started to walk into your direction.

You winced slightly in fear and shock, staring at the body that was lying right in front of your feet, blood oozing out of the wound. Your hands were shaking as both, you and the man, were breathing heavily. Swallowing once, you slowly raised your eyes to look at the man you just saved and your heart started beating even more wildly when you saw that the crossbow was now directed at you.

"Drop it," the man spoke and the gruffness his voice was holding sent a shiver down your spine. You were confused for a second until you realised that he was talking about your stick. You found it quite weird - funny almost - how he seemed to feel threatened by a simple stick while he was holding a damn crossbow. Still, you had no wish to die so you dropped the stick slowly, letting it fall to the ground with a quiet thump.

It was quiet between the both of you and only after a minute of silence did you decide to speak to him, "I don't mean any harm."

He didn't answer but his eyes stayed on you, studying you for a few more seconds before he finally decided to lower his weapon as he seemed to realise that you had saved him and that you definitely weren't armed besides that pathetic little stick. He looked around in hopes of seeing the squirrel he had been hunting but when he didn't, he turned around and started walking away.

Your body reacted before your mind could even catch up as you took a few quick and fast steps after him, "Wait- wait a second." And once again you didn't know why you did it but you hadn't had a conversation with another living person in days and it made you desperate. You didn't want him to go - didn't want to be all alone again, just waiting for one of those things to catch you.

He stopped abruptly and turned around in one swift movement. The words seemed to die in your throat at the look he gave you. His eyes were glaring at you and they seemed so distant - almost cold - and they were intimidating you to no beyond.

"Ya gonna talk or what?"

His southern accent was thick and filled your ears, causing you to stay silent for a few more seconds, just staring at him before you finally found your voice again, "Sorry I-," you paused for a moment beacuse you didn't even know what exactly you wanted to say to him, you just knew that you didn't want him to leave you alone, "Where are you going?"

He furrowed his eyebrows into an even harder glare and let out a small scoff as if he couldn't believe that you had actually asked him such a thing. It made you shrink back even more, rocking on your feet in nervousness.

"None of yer damn business," he grumbled quietly and you honestly didn't know what you expected since it only made sense that he wouldn't tell a complete stranger anything about himself. Still, you didn't give up and once he turned around and started walking once again, you spoke up for a third time.

"Please, don't leave me here," you felt ridiculous begging him like that but he was the only chance you had. It had been days since you last saw a living person - another human being - and you just weren't ready to let go of the situation beacuse who knew when you were going to meet somebody else - if you would meet somebody else, "It has been days since I've last eaten or had something to drink. If you have a safe place to stay, please, take me with you."

He looked at you again and was suprised to see tears forming in your eyes. He continued walking as a another scoff left his lips, "Ya don' really think I'd take a stranger with me, do ya?"

His quiestion made you shrug to which he gave you a side glance, "Please," was all you could say even though you knew that it probably wouldn't do much to convince him but you still tried because, what else were you supposed to do?

Your pleading made him think about it more than he would have liked because as much as he didn't want to admit it, he woul've been dead if you wouldn't have saved him and you actually didn't seem that bad. He wasn't sure if he was even allowed to bring people back to the camp since he and his brother were pretty new there as well and big, mighty Shane was the 'leader' - at least that's what he liked to call himself - making all the decisions. He had to roll his eyes at the mere thought of that guy.

Then again, he really didn't care about Shane's opinions since he and his brother would leave them soon anyway. So whatever impact you could or would have on the group wouldn't be his problem. That's what convinced him.

He gave you one last look before he nodded, "If ya even think 'bout doin' somethin' stupid-"

He didn't have to finsish his sentence as you nodded your head, "I won't."

He gave you another nod before he continued walking and you took that as your clue to follow him. His steps were big and fast, making it quite hard for you to follow him. Other than your heavy breathing and loud steps, everything was quiet, giving you time to actually think about your current situation. The realisation that you wouldn't be alone anymore almost brought a smile to your face. Almost.

"So, what's your name?"

The man walking in front of you looked behind him at the sound of your voice, an annyoed expression forming on his face, almost making you feel bad for speaking up.

"Daryl," he answered eventually, his voice only a quiet grumble. You nodded and waited for him to ask about you but when he didn't, you told him your name on your own accord.

"I'm (y/n)," your voice was almost as quiet as a whisper and when he didn't show any reaction at all, you thought that he didn't hear you but he did nod eventually. You quickly understood that he was a man of very few words or maybe it was just because it was you. Either way, the walk was quiet and neither of you said another word.

It took about an hour until you finally reached a bigger group of people. You were walking up a small hill before you stopped in your tracks at the amount of humans in front of you. 14 - you could count 14 faces - 15 with Daryl and 16 with you. It took you a moment to get out of the trance you were in because you really didn't expect to ever see such a large group of living people again.

Your eyes widened when you saw a man walking towards you and Daryl in fast steps and by the look on his face, you could only assume he wasn't happy.

"What the fuck?" the man raised his voice, shaking his head in disbelief as he eyed you before he looked at Daryl, "What the fuck is this?"

Daryl shook his head in annoyance and rolled his eyes at the man because, really, who did he think he was? He walked past Shane as a scowl formed on his lips, "Found 'er in the woods," was all he answered with a small shrug of his shoulders.

You felt incredibly out of place as you watched to two men arguing with each other and the lingering looks of the rest of the group made you feel even worse. They were looking at you as if you were some kind of enemy - an outsider - and you knew that nobody really wanted you here. So you lowered your head until all you could see was the dirty ground - the only escape you had.

How could you bring her with you?

She's a stranger!

You're putting us all in danger!

The male voices got louder and if the world wouldn't have been so fucked up, you would've turned around and left as fast as your feet could've carried you. You lifted your head in shock when you felt someone standing in front of you, hiding the sun from you.

"Make yourself useful if you wanna stay here," the man spoke harshly, staring you down, "And don't even try anything stupid, understood?"

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to find your words but after a few seconds of silence you simply nodded instead of saying something.

He nodded as well and placed one and on his hip, lifting the other to point into the direction of a few women, "Go and help them do the laundry."

You would have given him a piece of your mind if you weren't so damn desperate for a place to stay, so instead of telling him how disrespecful he was being and that you were far more useful, you gave him a slight smile and nodded once again before walking away. You could feel their eyes burning holes into your body as your feet carried you to the pair of women.

You waved softly and murmured a quiet 'hey' as you reached them. They stared at you with a look you couldn't fully describe but you would say it was something between fear and uncertainty before one of them spoke up.

"I'm Carol," the woman spoke while she looked anywhere but your eyes and you thought that she seemed just as shy as you, which kinda comforted you. She had really short hair, most of it being gray already, her eyes blue, and her very thin lips were formed into a very slim smile.

"Lori," the other woman said with a small nod. She was beautiful. Long, wavy, brown hair that matched the color of her eyes and her lips were also formed into a smile.

The fact that they were being nice and pretty much friendly to you eased your discomfort a little more, so you let your own smile play on your lips, "(y/n)."

You walked closer until you were standing next to Carol and you decided to follow the mans instructions, copying the womens actions and hanging the soaked pieces of cloth on the clothes line. It almost felt good because it gave you a sense of the life you had been living just a few weeks ago. The three of you made slight conversation - basic smalltalk, them mostly trying to get to know you a little bit better - and before you knew it, the work was done - the laundry basket empty.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" you asked the two women you were hoping would become your friends soon but before one of them could answer your quiestion, there was a much deeper voice sounding from behind you.

"Hey there," you turned around and were greeted by a man looking at you with kind eyes. He was pretty old you would guess, his beard and hair painted gray and white, "I'm Dale," he offered you his hand to shake, which you accepted a bit hesitantly, "Thought I'd give you a tent so you have a place to sleep in. You're lucky, I had a spare one in the back of my RV," he gave you a bag that he had been holding in his other hand.

The smile that showed on your lips was the most genuine one in a long time, your tensed shoulders relaxing at the kindness he was showing you, "Thank you, Dale." He grinned before walking away again, leaving you with Carol and Lori.

"Go and set it up," Lori said, "We're going to cook in the mean time."

You didn't argue much, they managed to do it without you before so they'll definetily manage now. With a nod you searched for an empty spot and quickly found one. It took you a while until you were finally finished, it being harder than you thought it would be. It was pretty dark by the time you were done and when you looked around you could see the group starting to eat.

You opened the zipper of your tent, sitting down softly and watching them from afar. After all it wasn't your food to eat and you didn't feel like you had a right to sit with them as if you were one of them. You were sure most of them still didn't like nor trust you. Carol walked by after a few minutes, holding a bowl of something to eat and stopping once she saw you alone, "You don't wanna sit with us?"

You shrugged, "I just- I don't wanna intrude."

She scoffed a bit, it almost sounded like a chuckle, "You're not. Come on, I'm sure you're hungry."

She was right, you really were hungry and as if your stomach heard Carol as well, it decided to grumble right in that moment. You blushed a bit when her smile widened but stood up and nodded with an 'okay'. You followed her as she brought you to the rest of the group and once again their eyes were on you - some kind, others not so kind - but you tried to ignore it as best as you could as Carol gave you a bowl of food. Your eyes locked with Daryl's for a second but the glare he gave you made you look away only a second later.

And you actually felt quite okay because even though you had lost a home, you felt like you just found a home.

Chapter 2

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grapejuicestyless · 9 months

Text

Every Road Leads Back To You.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n have always been life long friends. A friendship that fell apart with his fame, but came back with hers.

From the moment they knew what a friend was, it seemed that Harry and Y/n had been that. Two friends who spent each and every second together. Sharing crayons in pre-school. Harry’s red wax scribbled on a thin sheet of paper to Y/n’s deep blue. Together they made purple.

They always shared, without realizing they did. Always so giving to one another, so gentle. They held each other closely, never alone. Always one step to the side of the other.

In elementary school, Y/n shared the sweetest candies with Harry when his mother insisted on packing healthy foods to help him grow up strong. Always letting him pick off what he wanted first before taking her share of the sweets. A smile plastered on their faces and chocolate smeared across their cheeks.

By middle school Y/n was buying all her shirts a few sizes too large. A habit she picked up so Harry could borrow anything he wanted, just as she had done to him. Raiding his clothes each sleepover and keeping them until he all but took them back. Something he said he found slightly annoying, but the redness on his cheeks and the guilty pleasure of seeing her in his clothes was nice. Only dueling his little kid crush on her. Nothing they had was ever just theirs. It always connected right back to the other but neither of them minded. They completed each other in so much more than materialistic ways. While a shared shirt or a worn down crayon box was a nice reminder of their invisible tie on one another, their constant presence and kindness that was reflected special for one another really completed them. Each becoming the better half of the other in their eyes. Something that was rare and so pure.

High school was the first ending between them. Each day spent together, hours dedicated to hearing Y/n’s laugh and Harry’s horrible jokes that she adored for reasons nobody else could quite get like she did. Homework was copied, tests were failed and tears were shed all on his bedroom floor like they always had been. And they remained together. It was their graduating year that Y/n gave Harry his final gift, one that neither had thought to be the last. Y/n had signed Harry up for X-Factor. A competition Anne and her had always encouraged him to apply for as he had such a raw talent. Harry believed that they were only saying that because they loved him, but Y/n believed he was the best singer in the world.

He went on the show. The Styles family excited waiting backstage in the T-shirts Y/n had made. Showing support even when she wasn’t allowed to be there. A touch only the family would know existed until the end of time.

By the time Harry was placed into a boyband, inching closer and closer to the end of the competition, it seemed he was growing more and more into someone you’d only ever read about in the latest edition of Vogue. His boyish demeanor never changing and his kindness strong, but his time diminishing quicker than anyone could’ve bet on.

So Harry no longer had time to be with Y/n ever minute anymore. No longer dedicating hours on his floor, back aching almost as hard as his cheeks from his smile. No longer joking about everything under the sun with her, no longer taking her shirts and trading off his as a fair deal. It all ceased to exist. And Y/n faded away into obscurity. Falling far from her role as Harry Styles’ best friend and into only his origin story.

………………………………………………………………………………..

One Direction was over. Whether the world chose to accept it or not. The promised return after the break becoming more and more obvious as one that fell through as the years continued to roll on.

It was always hard for Harry, being on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, he had grown to be self sufficient over the last decade. Learning how to do things on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle it, it was that he had never mastered liking being alone. Always longing for a companion. Someone he could share everything with. Someone he could count on to laugh at even his worst jokes. Not just to humor him, but because they believed he was the funniest person on the planet. Someone that could give as much as he did. Someone who didn’t mind sharing.

Someone like her.

Over the years, Harry always thought about her. The reminiscent sound of her laughter still new and familiar to his ears. Something that he vowed to never forget. She always loved his jokes. Eyes constantly crinkled and teeth showing.

She gave too. Gave everything she ever owned to him in a joint custody. An unwritten rule between them. That no object was nearly as important as they were to each other. No job, no paycheck, no ranking in education could ever mean more than they did to each other. Harry still had some of her shirts. Bowie, Mercury, Buckley, Nicks. All the greats spread across some of his favorite shirts.

Everything about her was his favorite. Even after all this time. He’d had four boys to call his best friends all these years. Everyday spent together, bunk beds under one another and socks mixing together in their laundry loads, but nothing ever shared in the same way he had with her. His love for them not the same as it was for her.

That sense of loneliness always lingering in the back of his mind. Maybe a tinge of regret. He always wished he hadn’t let himself get pulled away from her. Maybe then she would be there, laughing with her head in his lap, mouth muffled against the denim on his thighs as she rolled around, holding her stomach and warning him that she just might piss herself.

Maybe they could’ve become more. Her hand in his and his lips on hers. A daydream he used to think about in middle school. One that faded away as his crush had. But now he would never see her again. Never hear her laugh or know how her smile changed with her age. He bet that it was just as beautiful, if not more. Just as welcoming. Just as genuine. But he would never know, as Harry had no idea were she was, where she had gone. Her phone number belonging to someone else now and all social medias deactivated and unused. She had truly slipped from his life, only to remain a wonderful memory. Until recently.

Like some unworldly creature had been guiding him, watching him and helping him, Harry had found her. It wasn’t in person, by any means. Her physical presence still as empty as it had been these past years. The loneliness still lingering and the regret still as sharp. But he had seen her. And everything he had ever wondered about her had been true.

For there she was, her face looking out an older looking window, surrounded by some of the biggest names. Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Timothée Chalamet, Saoirse Ronan. There was his beautiful Y/n, the girl who always dreamed of Broadway and movies was on the movie poster for the new adaptation of Little Women.

Something about it felt so right. The way she aged like fine wine, looking just as youthful as she did in her later teen years now even in her mid twenties. The way she had made it into a large project, something she always dreamed of, and something Harry had always wanted for her as well. A accomplishment that she deserved more than anyone. That and the knowledge that her name, Y/n Y/l/n was scribbled under the quiet, yet kind character, Beth. Someone Harry believed fit her perfectly. As to him, Y/n was the best of anyone he’d ever loved. Even all these years later, Harry still believed she was something of an angel that was sent straight from heaven just for him. The better parts of him and the even better parts of her beside him for what should’ve been eternity, but were taken away without reason.

He tried not to be weird when he passed it. Trying with all his willpower to not stop and stare for an uncontrollably long amount of time. Yet, his feet grew heavier with each step by until he fell to a stop. Mouth opened slightly and eyes sparkling with joy and wonders. He looked like a young boy again, excited over something short of Christmas in his eyes. The best gift of all had been granted to him, the knowledge that his best friend was doing just fine.

Harry was quick with his fan girl natures over her. Sneaking a quick photo underneath his coat sleeve and turning his brightness down to such an aggressive dimness that only he could quite see what was on his screen. His fingers wandering away from the photos app and searching her name, trying to find anything out about her.

Y/n Y/l/n. A twenty five year old actress who had stared in a handful of critical acclaimed films now, and earned spots on a few well established television shows. How could Harry have not known? Had he really been so caught up in himself that he couldn’t see his old friend rising to a similar status as his? How could he have not known she was in so many different projects, many he had even planned to watch himself. How could he have been so blind to his Y/n, who had been just a few steps away from his reach, who had continued to stay by his side all while he thought she was somewhere far away?

It seemed almost absurd, the whole situation. Someone who was so involved in the media not knowing about a very popular actress, who just so happened to be his best friend. But it was true. Harry barely spent time on social media anymore, not enjoying it the same as he did in the band. And his feed was mainly just his new friends, any posts of other celebrities unseen. Deep down, Harry knew it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know. How could he have? There was no way to ask her, no way to reach her. But even then, he felt that the drifting was his fault to begin with.

He wanted to blame it on his tour schedule and his long studio hours he spent locked away from the real world in order to create something he loved. But in reality, Harry could only feel selfish. Selfish that he couldn’t even be bothered to pay enough attention to the rest of the world to see what was always there.

He tried not to overthink it, letting it slip into the back of his mind as he geared up for promotions and lavish parties that tumbled his way, schedule too full to be worried about someone who had probably already forgotten those years and their secrets. Someone who had probably stopped caring long ago. And so even as the thought sat in the back of his mind, Harry did what he always had. Shoving himself into his work until the rest of the world and his worries melted into a nothingness.

………………………………………………………………………………….

It had been the night of a Gucci event. Something so prestigious to the outsider, but to Harry seemed more tame compared to the other events he was being dragged to. One that he could relax at knowing he had some familiar faces being in attendance.

He had worn his nicest suit. A simple white set with a ribbed tank top underneath. Pink sunglasses large on his face, but in a way he managed to make it look good. Hair tamed but free at the same time. To say he looked good was an understatement. Because Harry looked damn good, and he felt it too.

Not only had his appearance been a confidence booster, but the immediate finding of some of his friends helped to ease his mind from the pain of small talk. He had gone over lines he would say to new people, wanting to make friends and be kind, but felt more calm around those who already knew him.

It went smoothly, at first. His posture slightly slouched and drink held loosely in his hand. Eyes glued to the circle of people that had formed in the corner of the large room.

He felt comfortable, at ease with the whole night. It seemed that even in the beginning of the event he could see how it would end. With the professionalism fading away the deeper everyone grew into their drinks, and he would slip upstairs with a smaller group to do some questionable things, forget he did them in the morning and regret it while he was over the toilet by the afternoon.

A hot mess he would’ve taken any day over the hot mess Harry was about to become.

If he could’ve shattered his glass without facing consequences of it, he would’ve. Harry would’ve broken the glass and stared as hard as possible if it were acceptable. But it wasn’t, so when the all too familiar laughter, the same one that he could recognize anywhere as if it were one he still heard everyday just barely made it to his ears, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing and his eyes from widening.

Just beyond Alessandro, someone Harry had worked with in the past and was comfortable enough to call a friend with, was the one woman who haunted him innocently as a ghost.

At first he believed he was seeing things. His drink could’ve been spiked, for all he knew. He could’ve had one too many, even if he was only two drinks in and was nowhere near a lightweight after all his teen years conditioning to stomach the drink. But with the soft rub of his knuckle to his eyes and a few clear blinks, he could see it was true.

She glowed, standing out even in a room full of the most well known names. Her hair straightened until it was absolutely pin straight, the front pieces slicked back behind her ears into a sleek look. Her clothing similar to Harry’s, ironically. She wore a suit as well. The fabric the same shade of white and her face wearing glasses just as big. The inside the same shade of orangish-pink, the rims thick and black. A classic look that was perfect in her fact.. The only thing that seemed different was the fact that Harry had worn a tank top beneath his suit coat. She had a white vest underneath hers. One that acted as her shirt, and made her look that much better. She even had the same lazy grasp on her drink that Harry had on his.

She had been talking to someone Harry hadn’t recognized when he spotted her. Laughing at something the other woman had said genuinely before beginning her goodbyes. Her hands laying over the older woman’s gracefully and her head tilting down to excuse herself. How ironic that Harry would catch her slipping away, just as she had watched him do all those years ago.

Watching her walk away felt like his leaving all over again, and something snapped inside of Harry.

All these years of wondering, of regret and wishing that she was there had finally built up enough to make him forget that he was meant to stay and mingle. Make himself look good for future promotion of his upcoming album, Fine Line.

“Excuse me, sorry. I have to use the bathroom.” Harry hadn’t meant to be rude, but his eyes just couldn’t slip away from her fleeting frame, hands stuffed in her pocket and hair flying behind her.

His footsteps were rushed and quick, the warmness of the party turning into the darkness of the night the closer he got to the exit. Front door still wide open and the streets abandoned. Paparazzi not yet lined up on the sidewalks. He could see it now.

His broad shoulders had brushed another’s in his panicked state, soft sorry’s exchanged and his eyes becoming forced away from the only person in the room that seemed important in the moment.

The air was cold and with each heavy breath Harry could see a faint puff of his own breathe in front of him. He had lost sight of her quick, in his incident inside. His focus only lost for a beat, but long enough for the girl to slip away into the night like a ghost. It was only when he’d turned the corner, feet planted and chest heaving underneath a flickering lamppost that he saw her. The elegant woman smiling and thanking the driver whose car she’d began to get into.

He wanted to scream, to call out her name. Yell at her to stay, beg her to recognize him. But all that came from his lips was a heavy silence. Harry realized he hadn’t rehearsed what he should say to her. How do you speak to someone who knows you in and out after drifting so far apart and losing everything you once loved about each other? How do you reconnect? It was much too late to think about that, even in his jumbled mess of a head, he let his head speak.

“Y/n!” It came out staggered. Out of breath and winded from rushing out to get to her before she left. Feet heavy again on the pavement, goosebumps aggressive underneath his smooth suit. He was hell for leather in this moment, desperately trying to reach her.

His attempt was poorly timed, and just as they had all those years ago, the pair had slipped out from each others grip without realization of what was happening. Neither of them at fault, the only thing to blame was the lack of awareness that seemed to hurt them each and every time.

Y/n drove off in the opposite direction, oblivious to who had been shouting for her, who had been all but on his knees, begging for her to come back so they could see each other again. It looked pathetic, and he felt just as much. But Harry would much rather feel pathetic than regretful. A feeling it seemed the universe ordered him to continue feeling.

………………………………………………………………………………….

Y/n never knew what happened that night, and maybe she never would. It was ironic, and all together idiotic that the pair, who had always been so in sync with each other had fallen out of it.

If there was one thing for certain that they still had, and would always have, it was the known fact that no matter where they were pushed or pulled, they could never stay apart for too long.

With each new release of an episode from some corny, yet brilliant series or the premieres of a highly anticipated film, it only became more and more apparent that she would forever be a name cemented into Hollywood pop culture. The crowds of paparazzi and cheerful fans lining the exit to each shop she visited usually only furthering it. Her presence at lavish and exclusive events becoming something that was regular.

So it wasn’t out of the blue that Y/n would be spending her night at yet another gathering. Yelling and dancing with another well established name in Hollywood, and one of her good friends at some random celebrities party. The lights blinding her and the music way too loud. That was the one thing that had changed over the years, with her status in the world.

Y/n used to adore this kind of thing. The constant moving, the sweat and the coolness of a hard drink soothing the intense heat of a club. She loved being social, partying only to regret it in the morning.

It wasn’t that Y/n had become dull, no quite the opposite. Y/n was always the life of every party. The one starting the stupid drinking games and cracking way too many jokes, laughing hard at the ones being told. It was the fact that everything was just so fast paced. Waking up too early and going to bed too late, Y/n longed for those quiet nights alone more and more. Loving being able to curl up with a friend or two and just enjoy the night intimately. Something she’d always loved, but something that she had grown to love even more now.

Still, she let herself be persuaded into nights like tonight, three drinks in before midnight and makeup smudged in rockstar kind of way. She had glitter over her eyelids and a devilishly lustful smile painted across her face. The alcohol bringing out the flirt within her.

So she let herself grind up against the man she had come with. No one more than a friend to her, but someone she trusted enough to let loose with. Someone with the same mindset as her.

And with her head thrown back against his shoulder, hands running down his neck and his fingers pressing into her hip bones firm, it seemed like nothing else in the world would matter. Maybe the headlines would be crazy if someone caught them being so scandalous, being so free, or maybe no one would care. A risk that was all too fun, all too familiar.

The laugh she let out was one of pure joy, eyes snapping open and head leaning back up. She slowed, stepping away from her friend. His eyes opened too, missing the feeling of her body on his. She waved her hand, signaling she was okay, always one step ahead, already expecting his worried expression and questions.

“I just need to sit for a minute, sorry.” She downplayed it, acted like she was only getting tired when in reality, the whole room was spinning at a forty five degree angle. Her brain mush and lipstick wearing down from its crisp red to a smudged pinkish color.

She found a home in a well worn leather couch, tucked away in the back of the room. The music still loud but the lights not as intense. She could feel herself finding her grounding all while the leather stuck to her thighs and swallowed her into a comfortable slump.

Eyes heavy, she swore she could’ve fallen asleep. She would’ve let herself too, if it were not for the all too familiar voice that just passed her by.

Even with the music pounding and the distant ringing that was leaving her ears now, she could make out the faint conversation, catching the ending of, “-so maybe in December? I’ll be home by then and we can totally try!” It was all so enthusiastic and light. The accent not too strong but present. One that was similar to hers. She was sure she knew who it belonged to, and in her curiosity, everything he assumed was true.

There, only a few feet from where she sat, she caught a glimpse of those all too recognizable green eyes. Ones that seemed fake, like contacts but were deeper and less intense the closer you looked. A deep green. Emerald even. And his dimples just as deep.

She rubbed her eyes, glitter residue on her knuckles. Blinking hard and swallowing, she squinted. Was she dreaming?

No, she decided. He was there. In the middle of a sea of people, just as youthful and energetic as she remembered. It felt sort of bitter, seeing him now. How after all these years of nonstop thinking of him, there he was. Easily accessible and closer than she could’ve wished. Y/n practically drank up his appearance. He was just as beautiful as the day he left. It was emotional, weirdly enough. Everything rushing back. How now, they had spent more time apart than together probably. The distance killing her slowly all while he lived a good life. She wondered if he thought of her like she did of him. If he missed her like she missed him. She wanted to know.

So, pushing herself up by her knuckles, leaving a trail of glitter, Y/n weaves between the crowd. His name on the top of her tongue, eyes blinking rapidly to drown out the lights shining down. Flashing and moving too quick.

He was moving, fast. Walking with a friend of a friend, a taller man who looked about the same age but gave the vibe that mentally, he was more mature.

“Harry!” She shouted, her voice falling mute to the loud music and side conversations. A hand found her wrist, pulling her away from him, just as she almost broke away from the crowd. As she almost reached him.

“I thought I lost you, dude!” Tom had joked, his voice loud and light. Y/n turned her gaze away from where Harry stood for a moment, making sure it was really her friend that had her in his hold. And only after seeing his curly hair and half buttoned up shirt did she look back.

Her gaze was met with the emptiness of the space where her old friend once resided. Frantically, she searched from where she stood idly, but he had gone quicker than he had came. Almost like in her tipsiness, he was a figment of her imagination.

But she was sure he was real, she could feel it. She hoped it too. Y/n eventually managed to unstick her eyes from the blank space, finding her attention locked on Tom’s lopsided smile and his heaving chest. She allowed a smile to spread across her cheeks, letting go.

Even then, while playing pretend and seeming like everything was fine, in her head she couldn’t quite enjoy the night the same, mind clouded by what could’ve happened, what could’ve been. And in that moment it felt like the wound of missing him had torn again, cutting deep into her chest and causing a shut down in her heart.

The rest of the night would only be spent in the ways she had expected it to when it started. With her drunk, glitter everywhere and lips smudged. What she hadn’t expected was the regret of not trying harder to reach out to Harry and letting him get away again to be so strong in her mind.

The wishes that he was still there no longer just lingering thoughts. Selfishly, Y/n began to pretend that Tom was Harry, the drunker she got. His name almost slipping past her lips while they danced.

………………………………………………………………………………….

The air was crisp, the moon high. Even the softest breath could be seen, exposed in the cold December evening. The lampposts lights shining a translucent yellow that stretched across the pale pavement.

It was quiet, at this time of night. Late enough that the world was toeing a line between early morning and the latest parts of night. The clock inching closer to midnight with every passing second.

The world was asleep, the only sounds emitting into the once busy streets in the outskirts of London being the faint rustling from inside the twenty four hour pharmacy, the sharp crunch of hardening snow beneath his feet and the soft melodies that filled Harry’s earbuds, swallowing him into a world of his own. He had forgotten a few things at the market on his way home, and knew if he didn’t get them now, his future self would scold him for it in the early morning.

So there Harry was. He walked with his head down, one hand stuffed so tightly in his pocket, the warmth of the small enclosed space causing the palm to sweat a little, even in the cold. His other hand wrapped firmly around his phone, he searched his playlist for another song, wanting to find the perfect one to encapsulate this moment, cement the beauty of an untouched snowfall on the deserted streets of one of his favorite places.

“Umph!” It was muffled, when it fell against his ears. Music blasting still. Almost so quiet that he could have missed it, if not for the confirmation someone else was now with him with the very clear contact his body had made with another’s.

Harry let his hands tug at the wire leading to his ears, putting a pause to the noise that had swallowed him while for a moment. Ready to form some sort of short apology and be on his way, he took the chance to look up in search of the others eyes.

But what Harry found was something short of what could only be described as some sort of destiny.

Mirroring him, her hand stuffed into one pocket and the other pausing the music that had also seemingly taken her consciousness briefly, stood an old friend. One that haunted him every night, it seemed. Ever since his discovery of her.

“Y/n?” He meant to apologize, he really did. But in that moment he remembered having uttered her name too late all those nights ago, so it seemed that his heart was desperate to get it out in time now. Get her attention and never lose it again.

Her face was one that reflected his own. Eyes flickering up from her phone, mid-stuffing it into the empty pocket, headphones hanging down by her waist. And as hers met his, the whites surrounding the irises grew just as the slight parting of her mouth did. She looked equally as shocked as she did happy, in that moment. The circle of her mouth curling into a slight smile.

“Harry.�� She breathed out, sounding breathless, he had taken it away. Seeing him that close, something Y/n had dreamed about for years, felt surreal. She could reach out and touch him, now. That’s how close they were. Like old times.

Harry took the time to inspect her before saying anything else, wanting to take her in a moment longer. Her shoes were just as well loved as all pairs of hers were. And her jeans were just as worn in as the deep blue puffer jacket that just about swallowed her whole in its size. One that had a slight tear in the left sleeve and ripped up fabric on the zipper. One Harry recognized to be his own.

Knowing Y/n had kept the jacket, after all these years, and even still wore it sent something through his body. An electric shock, his heart beating faster, body suddenly getting hot in all these layers. He felt good, seeing her still proudly showing off things that were his, but guilt soon took over.

What if she had only kept it because it was the only thing left to remind her of him? The only thing he had left for her? She wouldn’t have needed to keep it if he had been around. Had stayed by her side like they had dreamed about. His hand in hers.

“Is that my coat?” Harry felt stupid that, that was the question he thought of to break the silence. He could’ve asked her how she’d been, or what she was doing in London, but instead his mind stayed stuck on his jacket, a detail only he would ever realize was so intimate.

She blushed, at his question, looking down briefly as if she had no idea what she was wearing. Downplaying it in her own embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d want it back. I found it in my closet when I was packing my stuff.” Y/n flashed the warmest smile she could, one that hit directly at Harry’s heart.

“I can’t imagine it smelled too good.” He cracked a smile of his own now. It wasn’t the funniest joke, only one to help lift the heaviness of them meeting, but Y/n still laughed. It was quieter now that it was later and only for him to hear, but it felt just as good as it did all those years ago.

“No, it smelled good. Smelled like you.” Her eyes didn’t leave his when she said it, highlighting the unspoken fact that even after all this time apart, even after he had left her, she still thought of him fondly. She still loved him the same.

“Mm, teenage boy musk.” Harry joked again, feet starting to move, he let his hand find the small of her back, spinning Y/n so she was walking with him now. Something they’d both done half on purpose, but mostly subconsciously. Totally focused on just being beside each other again. Y/n let out a breathy laugh this time, swatting his arm playfully. Harry let out a fake groan, holding his arm even though it didn’t hurt in the slightest. And the sidewalk fell quiet, Y/n searching for what she wanted to say next.

“It smelled like vanilla. Like your old house and that bakery you used to work in. Like childhood.” She couldn’t have described it better. For every lingering scent that had stuck to the fabric in her old closet smelled like growing up. It grounded her. It reminded her that even when she got all big and well known, she always had a place back home. That she could always come back and hide away in her rocket ship bedsheets that Harry had permanently tinted blue after washing them with his.

He loved knowing that she thought of him still, he figured she would like the same.

“You know, I still have every single one of our old shirts.” Our. Not his, not hers. But our. Because that’s what they were, there’s. They shared them. Bought them with the other person in mind, shared them like they’d both bought it. Like they both owned it.

Going back to that, Harry began to realize just how right Y/n was in her description of the jacket. Even though Harry barely wore the shirts anymore, it wasn’t because he stopped loving them. No, they were just as special now as they were back then, but he hadn’t had her like he did then. He didn’t have her constantly around to stick to the shirts and remind him that they also belonged to another. Harry hadn’t worn them because they still smelled of her. Of cinnamon and strawberries. Of early morning breakfast and wet April rain. It smelled like all the places and things she’d done. It smelled like childhood. He worried that if he wore them now, he would lose that one last memory of how she smelled. Of who she was.

But now here he was, right beside Y/n, and she still smelled the same. Sweet and fresh, like she had never left. Harry was sure he smelled just the same now. His scent still vanilla and his love for baking still as strong. He hoped he smelled the same, wished he brought that same closeness to Y/n’s heart as she did to his now.

“They still smell like us.” He wanted to say they smelt of her, but he thought it might be too much. Y/n almost wished he had only said that it smelled of her, but she knew that Harry was always going to be less forward than her. Just a little bit shyer than her in his feelings.

The conversation carried away from their old relics of childhood memories and into more recent things. But the entire time, it flowed just as easy. They’d managed to catch up without really aiming to catch up. It just sort of happened throughout their conversation. Just like their friendship had started, they had shared themselves with one another, shared everything without realizing it. And in it, Harry realized he hadn’t gone to the pharmacy like he intended, but instead had walked past it. He knew that in the morning he would still need those things he’d forgotten, but he wouldn’t be mad. Because now he had something better. He had his Y/n back.

………………………………………………………………………………….

In the next few weeks, Harry and Y/n found themselves with their phones glued to their ears. The others voice filtering through the speakers. They talked everyday again. Hours on end like they used to. They hung out in every free minute they had. Like they were always meant to. In that, they found that they had done so much more than just miss the other. They had longed and desired one another. Always wondering, always thinking about the other.

In the new time spent together, their lives intertwining once more, Y/n realized she never wanted to miss Harry again. She never wanted to loose him like she had before. Her heart had grown too fond of him to let him go. And for Harry, he remembered why he had, had such an intense crush on her when he was just a boy. It was so cheesy, how he had fallen for her so quickly again. But you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. And they had, had a lot of distance to help that grow.

So the pair became more than friends, it seemed. The best friends enlightening everyone on their long, hard road to each other, all with their hands in one another and Y/n’s lipstick staining the corner of Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s fame had taken him away, but in some sort of luck, hers had brought them back together.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #yn x harrystyles #harry styles #fine line harry styles

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matan4il · 26 days

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Update post:

Yesterday, there were no less than two terrorist attacks against Israeli civilians, one in the morning, and one in the evening.

The first one happened in Beersheba, where the terrorist stabbed and injured two people before being neutralized. The terrorist was an Israeli Bedouin, who had been convicted of drug-related criminal charges. The prosecution asked for his arrest, but the court decided to be lenient, to aid in his rehabilitation, and instead only sentenced him to community service. He was due to start in two weeks, but instead he chose yesterday to attack innocent civilians.

The second terrorist attack took place in Gan Yavne. A Palestinian man, who used to have a work permit in Israel, but lost it and remained here illegally, carried out the attack. The Palestinian terrorist started stabbing people at a gym and then at a nearby cafe, wounding 3 people, all of them originally determined to be in serious condition, one is a teenager, the other two are reported to have life threatening head injuries. The terrorist was 19 years old, and he was neutralized at the scene. In investigating how he managed to stay inside Israel illegally after his work permit had expired, the police has arrested two people so far.

Israel has wrapped up its second operation at the Shifa hospital in Gaza City, with another soldier pronounced dead (20 years old Nada Cohen), bringing the IDF fatalities in the Gaza ground operation so far to 256, and the total number of killed Israeli soldiers in this war, including during the Hamas massacre (reminder that some of those soldiers were girls serving in non-combative posts, without combat training or even a weapon, and were slain while still in their pajamas) to 600.

The end of one operation in a Gaza hospital doesn't mean that's the end of Hamas abusing medical and humanitarian facilities, so there are and will be more such operations. That's why I'm also sharing this reminder that nothing is sacred or even just... off limits to Hamas, who moved kidnapped civilians in ambulances, as one of the released hostages testified.

I mentioned in a post expressing my frustration over foreigners' ignorance over the conflict, which doesn't stop them from acting like they know better than the people actually living it, the Hamas-Fatah "civil war," which erupted in 2007, when Hamas killed Fatah members in Gaza and took over the place. The two Palestinian factions have tried reconciliation several times over the years, but it never lasted long. Israel's war in Gaza against Hamas and its fellow terrorists organizations is not over yet, but already there's signs of that tension. This def bodes well for Palestinians if Hamas survives this war.

A city council meeting in California, which dealt with Holocaust remembrance, ended up being the scene of some despicable displays of antisemitism in its anti-Zionist form. IDK what was most distressing to hear about, the way they screamed "Lies! Lies!"' at a Holocaust survivor, or that they took and threw to the ground the phone of a Jewish man who came to speak about his grandma who had survived the Holocaust, or that they mocked a mother speaking of her child being harassed at school to the point he doesn't wanna be a Jew, because he doesn't want to be hated... Maybe that they made my friend, who attended the meeting, cry on what was supposed to be a very special day. I saw coverage on Israeli TV of the city council, which both told me how bad it was, if of all things, that's what they're talking about, and at the same time, it was nothing like hearing about it from her. So I'm glad that she shared some of her own impressions about this ugly demonstration of hatred (I'm also scheduling her post for a reblog). I just hope Jews all over the world know that we here in Israel care about you, we love you, we are standing by your side, and we wish we could do more for you. <3

Speaking of antisemitism, and an inability to recognize it as such, to call it out and condemn it, here's some recent examples from around the world. In Spain, the locals went out for an Easter drink, a tradition called, "to kill the Jews," but insisted it's not racist. Attacking and even killing Jews actually was customary in Europe on Christian holidays such as Christmas and Easter. In fact, this specific nickname is derived from those old attacks.

In London, a policeman insisted that swastikas being displayed at an anti-Israel protest were not antisemitic, and should be taken "in context," despite admitting that a symbol that's abusive or would cause public distress would fall under his jurisdiction to act against.

youtube

In the Netherlands, a single mom of a Jewish girl was attacked for the daughter's choices (she decided to move to Israel and has served in the Israeli army) both at home and at her workplace, a hospital. The mother was so rattled after the attack at her home, that she wouldn't stay there. A Jewish hotel owner offered her a free stay at his hotel. In an interview with an Israeli reporter, the mom said she's considering moving to Israel, too (source in Hebrew).

This is 32 years old Celine ben David Nagar.

She worked as an office manager at a law firm, was married to Iddo, and they had a 6 months old baby together. On Oct 7, Celine was on her way with a friend to the Nova music festival, but they never made it there. The Hamas rocket attack started first. For 10 days, she was considered missing, and it took a while, but eventually they found her body. While her fate was still unknown, two days after the massacre, Iddo went on TV and talked about the fact that Celine was still breastfeeding. Following the interview, hundreds of Israel women volunteered to donate their mother's milk to the little baby girl. At Celine's funeral, Iddo asked said goodbye to his wife, and asked hr to watch over him and little Eli from above.

May her memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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mrswint3rs · 3 months

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haiiii!! i was wondering if you be willing to write step dad whesker x reader where you come in from college for a family reunion and he takes you out back behind the building to feel you up, and as he does someone catches you and he continues to fuck you as the family tries to get you both to stop. :3

𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐖��𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ❦

pairings - Stepdad! Wesker x Fem! Reader

a/n- this is definitely the darkest fic i’ve written so far😭 thank you for the ask!! hope you enjoy (as usual, not proofread so lmk)

𝐂𝐰- Step-cest, exhibitionsm?, cheating, fantasizing, taboo relationship, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Wesker is 48), mild daddy kink, use of praise and pet names, reader is a virgin, unprotected sex, dumbification?, breeding kink if you squint, dacraphylia ꨄ

༺

“It’s so good to have you home, hon!” your mother exclaims, suffocating you with her usual greeting of a hug.

It had been a couple of years since you’d been home. You chose to go to a college a few states away, which your mother absolutely despised. But as an adult, you’re responsible for your own decisions and that’s where you wanted to go.

It was far away, but you could still visit whenever you wanted. Though, simple face-times were more convenient in between those timeframes.

You couldn’t make it to last years family gathering, mostly because it’s on the most random day of the year and you had exams. So this year, you make the effort to come visit.

It was nice to get a break from the burdens of school.

“It’s good to be home,” you reassure your mother with a few awkward back pats before pulling away from the embrace.

“Albert set the TV back up in your old room for the week.”

Convenient. You had almost forgotten about the man your mother married. Or rather, tried to force yourself to forget him.

Wesker came into you and your mother’s life out of nowhere, quickly becoming head of the household. And taking over your thoughts entirely.

He was a fickle man, something about him just always seemed off in a way you couldn’t quite decipher. He was just eerie. Somehow, that was appealing. You found yourself wanting to get closer to the man.

But you would never do that to your poor mother. She loved him a lot, so it seemed. So you just pushed him out of your memory when you left. It was nothing that serious. Never even discussed out loud. Hell, the two of you hardly ever spoke, always awkward around each other.

Especially now, as you pass by on your way to your room.

He just watches, as if inspecting you under a microscope. Not saying a word, just staring all open mouthed like he was going to.

You force a tight lipped smile, directing it to him as a hello. Some things just don’t change. Not even your old bedroom.

But you sure did.

Wesker couldn’t help but notice your major change in wardrobe. He always saw you as the sort of insecure and self conscious type. Now you fully displayed yourself without shame, wearing tighter, more revealing clothing. Shorts so short your ass hangs out around the edges. And your makeup, less minuscule. To say you grew into your looks was an understatement.

You completely changed appearance wise, even if you remained the same inside. He felt like he was looking at you for the first time.

He liked what he saw. A little too much. He knew how wrong it was to see his own stepdaughter in that light, but as he takes in every inch of you, all the blood rushes from his head to his cock, making him shift uncomfortably as his pants suddenly grow to be too tight.

He just leaves without greeting you, welcoming you home like he wanted to originally.

Hopefully you didn’t take it the wrong way, he just desperately needed to relieve himself. To get those dirty thoughts out of his head.

He rushes off to the bathroom, dropping his pants and boxers down to his ankles and immediately gripping his cock. He closes his eyes as he fucks into his hand, using the thought, the image of you in his mind.

Something was seriously wrong with him.

It only took a minute or two before he made a mess of himself, cumming in bursts he’d never experienced. He had never gotten off that fast, or released that much. But with the thought of you, it felt completely different. Completely wrong and so damn good. Was he really that depraved?

Usually he goes back to normal after he finishes, but not this time. It only made him want more.

As he starts to go again, he’s halted by the sound of your mother’s voice. Dinner was ready. She planned all week for this, making sure to make your favorite meal for your first night back.

With a frustrated sigh, he washes the filth from his hands, looking at his face shamefully in the mirror before pulling up his pants again, making his way to the dining room.

You’re already there, sitting quietly at the table. He sits opposite of you, trying to remain as far away as possible. Trying to pretend he didn’t just jerk off pathetically to the thought of you.

“So, Wesker…” you speak up, almost giving the man a heart attack. “Mom told me about the new job you started.”

It takes him a minute to process your statement. He realizes you’re attempting to make conversation with him, clearing his throat before replying. “Yes, pays quite nicely.”

Was that too bland? He shouldn’t have to think this hard for a simple discussion.

“Do you like it?” you try to continue.

He freezes up as you start eating, lips wrapping around the spoon, making direct eye contact with him. He zones out, imagining those pretty lips around his cock, struggling to take him down your throat. Shit. When did he become this desperate?

Again he shifts, feeling that familiar tightness. “I like it just fine. I get a decent amount of time off.”

“Are you looking forward to the cookout tomorrow? Your favorite aunt will be attending I’ve heard.” he continues, hiding the tremble in his voice.

You nod, “It’ll be nice to have everyone together again.” and the conversation ends there, leaving your mother to carry it on throughout the rest of dinner.

He tries his hardest to be normal, refusing to look your way. But he can’t help it. He continues stealing glances at you throughout the meal, writhing in his chair every time you meet his gaze.

By the end of it, he’s in the bathroom again, unable to calm himself down. Meanwhile you’re going to bed without knowing at all.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

The following day is even worse. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the day without doing something. Let alone the rest of the week that you’re staying.

Half of the family is over, completely taking away any chance of privacy for his restroom breaks. He would just have to deal with it.

That was going to be completely impossible though.

It’s a hot day, you’re dressed in a tank top and an even shorter pair or shorts than the day before. With your hair up, unkempt and out of your face, smiling and laughing so sweetly with the others. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of your exposed skin.

He’s struggling to keep up with his role with the grill, almost burning the food an embarrassing amount of times.

He wanted so badly to slip away again. But even then he wouldn’t be satisfied. Not until he got to have you the way he wanted.

If he was going to survive this family reunion, that’s what had to happen. He just didn’t know how he was going to pull it off. He had a feeling you might be attracted to him, but he was never certain. You hid your feelings better than even he could.

When he notices the grill is running low on charcoal, he sees it as an opportunity. “Could you help me out with getting these bags from the shed? Could use an extra pair of hands.”

Being the good girl you were, you drop everything you’re doing to help him out, following him towards the other side of the house.

He didn’t at all need help. Before you know it, you’re pinned to the wall, silenced by his rough lips taking over yours. He forces your shorts down with ease, dipping his hand directly into your bare cunt while the other holds you there.

You go completely dizzy, not fighting against him. Instead you’re kissing your stepfather back, letting those urges take you over, all the pent up tension that built over the years.

You whimper into his mouth as he rubs at your clit like a mad man, already making you quiver. “What if we get caught..and the neighbors…if they-“

“Let them. They can watch for all I care. I need you, now.” he interjects, and you submit.

He discards his pants, hooking his arms under your thighs to hold you up and aligning himself with your entrance and shoving all the way in, balls deep.

You let out a guttural squeal, clinging onto him with tears welling up in your eyes.

“Holy fuck…” he growls almost animalistic, “So fucking tight. Are you still a virgin?”

You nod. Well, you were. And now your first time was his. Knowing that drove him over the edge. “It’s alright, daddy’s got you. I’ll take care of you, my darling.” he croons.

But that was partially a lie. As much as he didn’t want to end up hurting you, he couldn’t control himself. He tried his best to slow down, but his hips thrusted into you on their own. The head of his cock jabs at your cervix, over and over.

Your nails dig into his back seeking stability and he does his best to hold you.

You’re sobbing, from pain or pleasure he can’t tell. All he knows is it’s turning him on even more. Everytime you whine, it brings him closer.

“You’re okay.”

“Such a good girl, letting me have my way with you. You’re taking me so well.” he coos softly, continuing to fuck up into you ruthlessly. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up, you’re going to take it like a good girl, hm?”

You can find the words to speak, only mewling out needy and incoherent attempts at his name. It’s enough to push him over. He cums deep inside, not even attempting at pulling out.

Instead, he continues, stuffing you full of his seed.

His pace doesn’t even slow during the second round, steadily pumping his cock into your walls. You suck him in so tightly as he splits you open mercilessly. As much as he cared for you, nothing was going to stop him from fulfilling his needs.

Not even favorite aunt who’s horrified at the sight in front of her. She grows to be heated, preaching on about how disgusting he is, pleading for him to separate from you.

It goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn’t even pause to look at her, keeping his eyes on yours. He wasn’t going to stop until he was fully satisfied.

“Just look at me baby, don’t worry. We’re in this together. Daddy’s got you…”

You’re feeling completely humiliated, guilt churning in the pit of your stomach, his cock only stirs it further.

Your aunt fades out to the background, your ears start to ring and your vision goes hazy. You climax so hard you can’t stop your shaking. You tighten up around him in the process, completely draining him into you.

Again he sounds a carnal growl, feeling that sweet release he’s been yearning for.

When he pulls out and sets you down, you’re clinging to him like a whipped dog, soaking his shirt with your tears. It wounds his heart to see you so upset.

He pulls his pants back up, yours as well, zipping up your shorts and buttoning up the button for you. He runs his hands through your disheveled hair and wipes away your streams of tears.

Whatever the consequences were for his actions, he wouldn’t let you go down for it.

The two of you could run away together if needed, he hardly cared all that much for your mother anyway.

Not when you were in town.

mlist

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ystrike1 · 5 months

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Dear Villainous Husband , the One You’re Obsessed with is Over There - By Menanic (8/10)

Can the most miserable couple of all time be saved by an adaptation with nice art? Maybe. I hate the original novel this comic is based on. The ending isn't worth the trouble, but the webtoon version is more promising.

Angie and Ran.

I will be using their pet names, because yes, these two characters are a couple. Ran is a complete sociopath towards his wife until she manipulates him into keeping her alive. They are a match made in hell.

Ran is supposed to fall obsessively in love with a religious, pure, gorgeous woman named Seraphina. Seraphina is supposed to kill him, and take his country, after he kills her knightly true love.

Ran is the villain.

Angie was supposed to die unloved. Ran was supposed to kill her. When he chose to kidnap the lovely Serephina his legal wife was...ahem...in the way.

Ran killed his own father. He killed his siblings. He was supposed to do it. He leads an evil country. One obsessed with war and power. Even the maids love to fight. It's a military nation to the core. Angie really didn't fit in next to Ran, in the first timeline. She was a weak and whiny woman, who couldn't handle the pressure.

Now Angie knows she was chosen at random. Ran threw a knife at a wall of bridal portraits. That was how she was chosen. She has no more illusions about love...

...

And she's a reincarnated Korean lady but I swear it doesn't matter and the story is still enjoyable.

New Angie decides to entertain her husband. She doesn't seek his love. She doesn't want to tame him. She wants him to lust over Serephina. She plans to flee in winter, when that destined meeting happens. She believes Ran won't bother to hunt her down, when he is occupied by love.

Her plan works too well.

She figures out that a Marquis and his mother are against her. Some people are upset because Ran married a foreign woman, instead of a good strong woman of war.

Angie figures them out, and she makes a gamble while she bows before her crazed husband.

She proves herself.

She becomes the crazy, cruel wife he desires. Just to stay alive.

She proposes a human hunt.

She says she will train with a bow, and hunt the Marquis, after he tries to stain her honor. Coincidentally the Marquis wants the king to marry his sister...so he's gotta go. Angie really has no choice, but her will to kill is there under all that pink.

She changes.

She starts to act spoiled around Ran.

He seeks her out for dates...and training.

He wants to watch her kill.

I think molding her into the perfect killer and Empress is kind of his fetish actually. In the original timeline he wanted to ruin Serephina.

He's happy now because Angie wants to be ruined. She has convinced him that she's willing to sacrifice herself to be a good ruler. He doesn't know her ultimate goal is running away.

He's impressed.

He likes her.

He stops choking her, and she no longer has to bow for him.

(Yes, this is a horror story.)

Ran drugs her, to show his adoration.

He builds the perfect hunting ground, where she can practice with her bow.

The drug is a special type of magical steroid. It dulls empathy in the user, and it temporarily makes the body strong.

The Marquis dies in front of his mothers corpse.

Angie did not consent by the way, and she grapples with what she did while drugged for a long time.

But.

It gets her love.

When she kills her enemies she earns the respect she needed. The nobles love her now. They love blood.

Ran loves her too.

He's so ready to have a partner like him.

A sweet villain, who is cruel to everyone else. He actually likes it when she's cute with him, as long as her cruel duties continue to be fulfilled.

She slowly becomes his perfect woman.

When Serephina does appear she doesn't matter.

Angie is the closest thing Ran has to a functional relationship. He doesn’t need a prisoner to obsess over. It kinda seems like he wants to work on his personality to make Angie comfortable too.

It's weird.

He's an actual crazy asshole, but the plot is not boring.

The human hunt???

Nuts. I didn’t even include all the details.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #Dear Villainous Husband #the One You’re Obsessed with is Over There - By Menanic (8/10)

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icyg4l · 2 months

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Pick-A-Meme: How Can I Choose The Right Career Path for Me?

Choose the image that resonates the most with you. In this reading, I will give you details that you can use to get closer to accomplishing to your career goals. I will also give those clarity to those who are confused on where to go from here with the help of the True Heart tarot deck.

Left-to-Right (1-3): Raven Baxter, Brenda Meeks, Kim Parker.

Cards Used: 10 of Cups. The World (RX). Judgment. Knight of Cups. Wheel of Fortune. The Hierophant. 4 of Pents.

Pile 1A: I feel like this is for those who are thinking of going into the traditional career paths like being a nurse, a teacher, a lawyer or doctor. You are very determined when it comes to breaking into this career path. I feel like this is a dream that you’ve had for a long time, since you were a child. But you’ve grown up and you see just how practical this career path is or how much time it would take from all other aspects. Don’t let the money or the amount of time it takes to pursue this career stop you! There will be opportunities that come up for you as you pursue this path that will financially support you. I also see that you’ll receive some recognition early on in your career, for your contributions to this field.

Cards Used: The Moon. 3 of Pents (RX). Strength. Queen of Cups. Ace of Cups. The Hanged Man. Ace of Wands (RX). Queen of Pents. Ace of Swords.

Pile 1B: For those of you that are confused about what career path you should pursue, I say that you should consider some “niche” career paths; something that sticks out to YOU. This will ensure that you’re using your energy towards things that you love. I get the feeling that you’re tired of what you’re being presented with. These are the people that are tired of receiving rejection emails from employers or being ghosted by interviewers. I feel like you’re kind of nosy… perhaps you should consider a career as a private investigator. You have a sharp mind and you call bullshit when you see it. I also think that you should consider something to do with childcare, maybe take up the jobs that nobody wants to take up? If you’re into pets, you should take up the pet care. I feel like this is also the pile that should consider going to trade school to become an electrician or plumber. You would actually benefit from it & would meet some excellent people along the way. Everyone isn’t be a tech geek, a rapper or an aspiring designer and that’s absolutely fine! You got this!

extras: annalise keating. bedtime stories. human design. timestamp. first wives club. worker bees. social justice reform. politics. class action lawsuit. science geek.

Cards Used: The Emperor. 6 of Cups (RX). 2 of Pents. Ace of Wands. The Hierophant. 7 of Pents (RX).

Pile 2A: The people who chose this pile are currently fed up with their career path. I think that you have dedicated so much time to this career path that it has you burnt out. You may be considering switching career paths or adding a new element to your career path. You should! I thought of the storyline from ‘This is Us’ where Beth takes the risk to open up a dance studio after being fired from her job. Her original passion was ballet but her mother forced her into a practical career. She became an urban planner. She had the job for twelve years and loved it but she unfortunately got laid off. I feel like this collective has some resentment towards their career because it’s not what you want to do. What do you really want to do? Examine what really makes you light up. If you decide that you want to have a side gig doing what it is you really want to do, then have at it! But if you decide to start fresh in a “new” (but not really new to you) career path, then also have at it! The ball is in your corner.

Cards Used: 10 of Cups. 3 of Cups. 9 of Cups. Justice. 6 of Swords. The Hermit. The Fool. Prince of Cups.

Pile 2B: If you’ve been considering going into a business with a friend, you should absolutely do it! I saw the banner of a restaurant opening. I feel like this pile is really into the traditionally ‘girly’ things like doing your nails or hair. If this resonates then you should definitely take up cosmetology school. If that’s not what you’re into, consider going to school to become a masseuse or get into holistic medicine! You have a calming aura and people probably open up to you easily. But I get the feeling that you guys don’t always like to talk to people. You enjoy your solitude/quiet time & that’s okay. For those of you that are into poetry, you should consider posting your poems for monetary gain for extra money! In due time, you’ll figure it out. Be patient with yourself, you’ll know what sticks!

extras: aching feet. balloons. graveyard. black jeans. venus in the 11th house. aquarius venus. gemini venus. losing hair ties. the color purple. spoken word. friendship breakup.

Cards Used: King of Swords. 2 of Pents. The Hierophant (RX). Queen of Pents. The High Priestess. The Emperor. 5 of Cups.

Pile 3A: You guys are the people who long to be the boss. You guys strive for greatness & hold yourself to a certain standard. But I think that you’re doing a lot. You’re trying to do everything by yourself and you need some help. This could be a pile full of freelancers, psychics, therapists or entrepreneurs. Perhaps you’ve opened up a new business and everything just feels like it’s falling on top of you. You need an assistant to keep this business running! Hire someone that will keep you on top of your stuff. I think that you should try a new method of organization as well. Maybe you’re a model? If so, take some new headshots. Get some help with your portfolio. Update your resume. Create some new material because you’ve come so far. You really just need to be more proactive when it comes to your career; get on top of things quicker.

Cards Used: The Lovers. 3 of Swords. 5 of Swords. Queen of Swords. 3 of Cups. 9 of Cups (RX). 7 of Cups.

Pile 3B: This is the pile for those that are “inexperienced” but know that they’re going to be in their career field. I don’t think that you are clueless as to what you want to do. You know exactly what you want to do, you just don’t think you fit the criteria. When in reality, you’re rejecting yourself before someone else rejects you. Stop counting yourself out man. I think you want to pursue a career as a model, a baker, an influencer perhaps? I think you have some childhood wounds surrounding your social circle. You were viewed as an outcast and this is why you feel stuck. You know you’re going to be somebody but you need to start acting like it. I think that the route you want to take requires you to be in the spotlight. There is an audience for you but you refuse to put yourself out there. I think the best way for you to get over this is to challenge yourself. Create small tasks that will help you get out of your comfort zone. Therapists would call this rejection therapy. Try it!

extra: ANTM theme song. ADHD meds. kendrick lamar. “simultaneously”. influence. impostor syndrome. what was i made for? gymnast. athlete. being the only non-white person in the room. fitness model. green grass walls.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #hoodoo #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #spirituality #tarot deck #tarotcommunity #pick an image #pac reading

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blues824 · 1 year

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How about Female ubuyashiki in the remarried empress.

👩‍🦯A ill noble woman who is known for her heat of gold and motherly figure for most nobes they all call her mother in a respected manner.

🌸Her being there for navier when she is having difficulty with rattrash and sovieshit and calming her down even staying a couple of months in the eastern empire.

👩‍🦯How would everyone react to her slowly dying of her illness but she doesn't care about it she cares more about others than her health and always treats people with respect.

🌸imagine kosiar being her husband and how caring he is about his lovely wife and them already having children because they never know when she dies so her children whoud be there for kosiar when she passes away .

👩‍🦯The children don't have the same illness as their mother so they will have a normal life unlike their mother so kosiar whoud not have to worry about them dying before he does.

🌸How would everyone react to kosiar being a father of twins (spoilers navier get pregnant with twins later in the Nov ) and that the children are absolutely angels like the mother.

👩‍🦯Imagen the twin children of the female ubuyashiki and kosiar hanging around navier and them being more behaved than rattrash and them being loved by everyone.

🌸Imagen rattrash trying to spread rumours about her because she thinks she is a easy target because of her personality and illness only for people to get mad at her.

👩‍🦯Imagen rattrash pushing her and trying to make herself the victim only for people to help her up and ask her if she okay glaring at rattrash and people wanting her to apologise for pushing her even sovieshit can't do anything but to say she needs to apologise.

🌸She has always a person guiding her because of her losing her eyesight and loves to walk in the gardens to enjoy the beauty of natures.

👩‍🦯Her training crows to speak and sending a few to navier and the crows singing happy birthday to the and Queen and the crows vibing.

🌸What whoud be there reaction is she died because of her illness and seeing all the nobles morning her death and sending there regards to kosiar.

(I don't know why but that crow in the picture is so adorable)

Preface: You are a part of the nobility who is loved by all because of your motherly attitude towards everyone. You are married to Kosair, which makes you Navier and Sovieshu’s sister-in-law. Your children, one boy and one girl, are the perfect mixture of you and Kosair.

Sovieshu

He also considered you a ‘motherly’ figure, as you always offered him guidance in both political and personal matters. His earliest memories consist of him leading you through the palace gardens as he told you about problems he was having in his daily lessons. Needless to say, you were very close.

Even when he took on Rashta as a mistress, you gently asked him if he thought that he made the best choice for the Empire. You did not discriminate, even when he made mistakes, and that’s what he appreciated (and no, he did not harbor romantic feelings for you). Even after you were wed to Kosair and had children, the closeness between you two was not severed. He still went to you for advice.

He was originally going to name one of your children the Crowned Heir of the throne if he and Navier did not conceive, but Rashta was pregnant so that threw a wrench in his plans. Still, you harbored no resentment. You even congratulated him on the news (although, you knew that it wasn’t his).

However, he also knew of your sickness. That was mainly why he had to lead you through the gardens, since the illness left you blind. He was aware that you wouldn’t live long, as your family was often cursed. It was typically thought that when you take the last name of another man, your illness would be cured but you chose to keep your last name. Your children had the name of Trovi, though.

When you inevitably passed away, it was the first time that everyone in the Empire gathered together to mourn. Even some people from different Kingdoms and Empires attended the funeral procession. Tears ran down Sovieshu’s face, and he held his wife to comfort her. Your spirit, before ascending, was happy to see that the Emperor and Empress came together for one final time.

Rashta

You were the first person to make her feel welcomed into the palace, and she appreciated it. However, she realized that since you were loved by everyone, both high-ranking and not, ruining your reputation would do good for her because all of the negative attention wouldn’t be on her anymore. Plus, you knew that the baby wasn’t Sovieshu’s. You had told her that you didn’t judge, but she felt threatened.

She invited you for a walk in the garden, and you accepted as long as she would guide you through. An odd request, but she agreed. Within the garden, she led you to the center, where she pushed you to the ground and screamed. A guard heard and went to investigate, only to find you on the ground. Rashta tried to say that you had tried to attack her, but the guard told her that you were blind.

That guard reported it to the Emperor, and he was angry at his mistress for daring to harm his ‘mother’ and try to paint herself as the victim. However, you argued that you weren’t terribly hurt, and maybe just got a bit of a scratch at the most. Thus, the punishment should fit the crime.

Of course, the fact that you were blind caught your attention. So, she asked a servant to bring her to see you, and you gladly accepted her into your chambers. There, you opened the conversation with ‘What is wrong, my child?’ She didn’t know how to beat around the bush, so she directly asked how you became blind. You smiled before giving her a painfully honest answer. It made her tear up a bit, to be honest.

When you passed, she did not attend the funeral procession. She was advised by the Emperor as well as Duke Ergi not to, as the people were still angry at her for hurting you even though that was. However, once you were buried, she placed a single white tulip upon your grave. She has been told that it would be best, as it is a symbol of an apology.

Navier

Since you were her sister-in-law, it was no wonder that you both were very close together. She too seeked out your wise counsel when she went through times of despair. It was a surprise to no one that a lot of the nobility had given you the honorary title of ‘mother to all’. She often leads you through the gardens whenever she is troubled about something, and your conversations always leave her mind at peace.

Your twins were her niece and nephew, and she loved them dearly. They were quiet and kind, just like you, but they weren’t afraid to stand up for the people that they love, just like Kosair. Navier loved it whenever she heard them yell her name and she would kneel down to hug them. She was happy that they did not inherit your disease, as that meant that she would only lose one person that was important to her.

Speaking of your illness, she also knew of it, and she saw how you pushed through it day after day. There were times where you couldn’t get out of bed without major assistance, which did make her uncharacteristically upset. She could tell that your twins and her brother were silently suffering at seeing you sick and weak.

She was definitely angry when she heard that you had been pushed to the ground by the mistress, but she was surprised to see you arguing that you weren’t hurt badly and thus any punishment given to Rashta should be light. But, she was not going to argue against you, as you always knew best.

When you passed away, she stood with her older brother and her niece and nephew as she cried. It was raining that day, and black umbrellas as well as black attire under a sky of rain clouds were all that could be seen. Sovieshu surprised her by wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and she let a few tears fall. She swore that she could feel your spirit next to her.

Every year, for her birthday, the same crows that you trained would come and sing her Happy Birthday.

Heinrey

He had first met you at the ball, and he could see that you were basically like a mother to all of the noble families. So, he chose to get to know you since you were a motherly figure to Navier. Almost immediately, you both were sitting down as you listened to the problems that he was having.

This is where he accidentally lets it slip that he is the bird that keeps visiting Navier, and you smile as you say that you can’t see anything, so you can’t say anything. Heinrey had noticed that you weren’t looking at him throughout the whole conversation, so now he realizes that you are blind. Your husband, Kosair, actually led you everywhere.

During his visit at the palace, your husband brought your children to see Navier, which was the first time that the Prince got to see them as well. From what he could tell, they looked like Kosair but acted like you. They seemed to not have inherited your curse as well.

Unfortunately, he was not informed about your declining health, as it was deemed to be untimely since his brother was on his deathbed as well. So, when he inherited the crown of the Western Kingdom and went to visit Navier, he was wondering where you had gone. Unfortunately, the wound was still fresh when he asked Her Imperial Majesty.

It felt like he actually lost his mother all over again. He mourned, and he did not take the grief well. However, your last words to him were in a letter, and they were to make the Empress happy. So, he would do that to the best of his ability because it’s what you would have wanted.

Kosair

You both first met when you were children. Sure, you both were betrothed to one another considering it was believed that if you got your husband’s last name then you were exempt from the curse, but he still loved you with all his heart. However, for some unknown reason, you stuck with your original name. As sad as it made him, he did not argue against your choice.

The twins that you had given birth to were his entire world aside from you. His daughter and son had him wrapped around their fingers. He never told you this, but he was glad that you chose to give them his name, Trovi, instead of Ubuyashiki. But, you were still suffering from the curse, so he believed that it was his job as your husband to help you.

He loved leading you through the garden that you both had grown because it was a symbol of how you built a life together through the struggles. You loved that he cared about you so much, and it was always a wholesome moment. Eventually, your children would inherit the Manor and the garden, and you hoped that they would continue to help it thrive once you had inevitably passed.

Unfortunately, your health had deteriorated to the point where you were bedridden. Kosair held your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it as he spent as much time as he could by your side. Your children cuddled up next to you, which made you smile. Your crows were perched on the window sill, letting out sad cries.

Then, you passed away peacefully in your sleep. Because you were loved by everyone in the Empire, your funeral procession was one that would be typically for the Imperial Family. Everyone, aside from Rashta, attended. Kosair and your children as well as Sovieshu and Navier stood front and center as the High Priest said some words over your casket. Once the casket was covered with dirt, your husband placed your wedding ring within the dirt so that it would be buried with you.

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aingeal98 · 1 month

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Can't stop thinking of the tragedy of agents of shield and how yeah you can find your found family in a spy organisation but due to the nature of the work it's almost always bound to end in tragedy.

Daisy connected with Ward and he used her and betrayed her.

Fitz was her family and friend for 4 seasons only to end up using and betraying her and dying without any resolution, unlike Ward who she at least got closure with via shooting him.

Simmons was one of the people she trusted most for 4 and a half seasons, "us against the world" until the trauma warped Simmons to the point she could only focus on Fitz and would warp and justify anything to continue loving him. And unlike Fitz she didn't die so there was just this undercurrent for the rest of the show like I still love you and would die for you but I can't trust you the same anymore because I know you would take your husband's side no matter what he did to me. Sometimes it's just the two of us and it's like nothing's changed and other times you're selfish and self centered and willing to sacrifice everyone around you for Fitz. I want it to be us against the world but it isn't anymore. You chose and so even though I love you I need to move on.

Coulson loved Daisy so much. They were the central relationship of the show. But he died, and he's gone and it wasn't fully his choice but it's still one more original team member she's lost.

And then there's May. The final original member, the one Daisy had the hardest time connecting with initially. And now it's just the two of them. May stood by her and May died protecting her and May came back and is still there, just a phone call away. Daisy is off in space, doing what she does best in the face of a lifetime of suffering. She's fighting the good fight and helping people who need it and she's got a partner and a sister who she can trust and with no bad blood remaining.

But if they go back to earth for a pit stop or homesickness or for any other reason, she'll have May waiting for her. Daisy went from alone to the one on her team now with the most roots, a mother and a brother waiting for her every time she comes home to earth. Maybe four out of five times putting your hope and found family heart into your shady spy organisation coworkers ends in tragedy. But maybe that one time it doesn't makes it all worth it.

#Aos #Aos rambles #Daisy Johnson #As bittersweet as the ending was it makes me so happy #If she and sousa have a kid not only is that kid going to grow up with kora as an aunt #and an understanding of their biological family history #But they'll also have May for a grandmother mack as an uncle two great grandparents and all of shield knowing their mom as a hero #Throughout all the tragedy she made a legacy to be proud of

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vespidphoenix · 21 days

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Entirely at your service

Tag list: @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @weaversofnulbundin

It's Sanji's turn to stay on the Thousand Sunny while the rest of the Straw Hats explore a new island, so he makes his way up to the crow's nest for his watch. He is pleasantly surprised in more ways than one by what, or rather who, he finds up there.

Notes: NSFW, minors begone, lots of swearing, friends to lovers, porn with feelings, idiots in love, chubby OC, some angst, lots of fluff, praise kink, breast worship, consent really is sexy, inappropriate(?) use of observation haki, etc; word count 6.3k

AN: Baby's first fan fiction! Ya girl can have a little a shameless self-insert, as a treat. I've only seen OPLA and I'm not past the East Blue in the manga/anime yet, but I've done my best to keep everything consistent with canon.

AN 2: I use French as the language of the Celestial Dragons, and both Sanji and Amy are fluent. Most of the time, I'll put the English words in brackets at the end of the paragraph, but there are some recurring phrases that I'll leave untranslated: mère bleue is 'blue mother', as in Mother Ocean; merde is 'shit'; mon amour, chérie, and ma chère are endearments

Chapter One: you are here! | Next chapter: coming soon | Masterlist: coming soon

Edit: read this chapter on ao3!

(Banner courtesy of @cafekitsune)

As soon as the hatch leading to the crow’s nest clangs shut, Sanji sets his snack tray on the floor mats and collapses with a dramatic groan.

“Fuck me raw,” he sighs.

“As appealing as that sounds, that’s gonna have to wait another couple days per Chopper’s advice,” a feminine voice deadpans behind him.

Sanji sits upright with a start, nearly knocking over his water bottle. “Mère bleue!” he exclaims as he turns to face his crew mate; “for some reason I thought you were in the landing party today.”

Amy’s reply is drowned out by the pounding of Sanji’s heart when he blinks and notices just how casually she is dressed. He recognizes her sarong as a recent gift from a grateful cloth merchant—he would stand by the assertion that everything looked good on Nami, the original recipient, but he’d have to agree with her that it suited their crew’s interpreter better—and the crocheted halter top as Amy’s own handiwork. He feels a sudden itch to find out for himself just how soft a yarn she chose for this particular work of art…

For lack of a mirror, Amy could not see what her face looked like; but she imagined that if she could, her eyes would be wide and sparkling with mischief. It’s certainly the feeling she always seems to get whenever she’s face-to-face with the handsome blond before her: a grin pressing at her cheeks to escape through the seam of lips pressed together, eyelids spread as if to take in more of him.

(Sometimes, she reckons she could spread other parts of herself for that purpose, if she thought him willing to put his money where his mouth always seems to go.)

“I’m not complaining, mind you,” she continues to say, “but this is the third—no, fourth time in a row!”

Sanji gulps and shakes the slightly-glazed expression from his face. “I’m sorry, can you say that again? I was…distracted by your beauty.” He winks one piercing blue eye, and skepticism be damned, she feels heat creeping over her body and pooling between her legs.

Amy rolls her eyes and fidgets with her sarong in lieu of making a snarky comment about blindfolds.

“As I was saying while you were ogling me, I was going to be one of the landing party, but Nami insisted on having Usopp join her in mapping the island because my handwriting is so much better than his, so I should be the one to help you with inventory. She’s not wrong, per se, but this is the third or fourth time in a row this has happened, and part of me wants to call bullshit.”

“Part of you? What about the rest of you?” Sanji asks, resolutely fixing his gaze on Amy’s eyes instead of letting it drift to her bust or the soft rolls of her exposed torso.

This time it’s Amy’s turn to deliver a blush-inducing wink. “The rest of me is simply happy to be spending time with you.”

“Well, lucky for us, sweetheart, I took the liberty of doing inventory earlier this morning so that Miss Nami would have a grocery list,” Sanji replies after taking a deep breath, “so I am…entirely at your service.”

Entirely at your service. The words tickle Amy as she takes in Sanji’s shirtless form, supine once more and sporting that megawatt grin. As her gaze trickles down from his abs to those steel-hard thighs, she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed by how smug he looks; Mother Ocean knows how handsome he knows he is, how hard he’s worked to earn those well-toned—

“Have I rendered you speechless, mademoiselle?”

Sanji’s voice, sultry and teasing, interrupts her train of thought.

Entirely at your service.

Sanji knows he’s close to some sort of victory when Amy’s face flushes even more deeply and she still doesn’t answer right away. There’s something uniquely thrilling about fencing with words and looks the way Mosshead trains with Wado Ichimonji—maneuvering, testing, anticipating, parrying, scoring—and he reckons it has to do with the way both parties win something if one goes about it correctly.

He watches and sits up as Amy walks around to his front before she settles next to the tray of snacks. His heart thumps harder in his chest the same way that foolish thing does every time they’re in such close proximity, not quite touching but close enough that he wouldn’t even need to fully extend his arm were he to caress her cheek—

“You don’t need to sit up on my account, handsome. Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer later, but right now maybe I’ll serve you some—how does that sound?” Amy plucks a single grape from the cluster and holds it above his mouth.

Maybe I’ll serve you some.

It’s not often Sanji allows himself to contemplate what he might do with such an offer. As a child, he’d served in order to live; as an adolescent and now as an adult, he lives to serve. But sometimes it occurs to him that letting someone serve him instead can itself be an act of…well…service.

(It will take some time before he allows himself even to think the word ‘love’ in place of ‘service’, and longer still before he allows himself to speak it; but it’s there, waiting like a daffodil bulb in early March for safe conditions to bloom.)

There will be time for Sanji to unpack all of this later, when a beautiful woman is not offering him a grape that looks as sweet and delicious as the person holding it, looking at him with the inviting heat of an onsen—or perhaps it is the sort of hunger that no amount of grapes can quench but he might be able to satisfy anyway.

All Blue forbid he keep a lady waiting. He lowers himself back onto the floor mats and opens his mouth.

“Good boy,” Amy teases in her best attempt at a sultry purr, frowning when Sanji gives her a strange look and shifts uncomfortably instead of rolling his eyes. “Sorry, does my femme fatale impression need work? Too over-the-top, not campy enough, too demeaning?”

“No, that was—no, no, you’re fine,” he replies, suddenly a little breathless. “How about that grape?”

If Amy notices the hunger filling both his mind and his gym shorts, she mercifully does not comment on it.

There’s a look in Sanji’s eyes that, if she didn’t know better, Amy might call naked desire, and the idea renders her dizzy with want, or it could be dehydration—she’s not sure, not in this weather. She drops the grape in Sanji’s waiting mouth, pats his jaw, and gets up to let a breeze in through a window.

She can hear the slight frown in Sanji’s voice when he calls, “Are you alright, darling? Can I get you something to drink? I think I saw a fountain somewhere…”

“You’re not beating the waiter allegations from Zoro anytime soon, are you?” Amy chuckles, the cooler air having relieved her flustered state.

“He can call me a scullion for all I care; it’s a small price to pay to see you satisfied.” The chef curses under his breath; there are no spare cups up here, so sharing his canteen will have to suffice. He brings it to Amy with an apologetic smile.

She takes a sip and smiles gratefully, and allows her eyes once again to wander over Sanji’s chiseled body. “I have a tall glass of water to drink from, and that’s a good place to start.”

Sanji draws a sudden breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Keep talking like that, and we might not get to finish the snacks I brought up.”

A wicked grin spreads over Amy’s face, and Sanji knows he’s fallen into his own trap.

“How about I help you finish your snack, and you help me finish mine?”

He groans and tilts his head back, and the creeping heat that became smoldering want is stoked into flame by the huskiness of his voice, by the way his neck seems further exposed, there for the kissing—

“Say the word, Amy, and all of it is yours.”

Amy merely smiles. She steps past him, hooking an arm around the far side of his waist as she goes; when he spins around to face her once again, she tugs on the hand suddenly holding hers.

“You gonna have a seat or what?” she asks, nodding toward the tray.

A moment’s hesitation, and Sanji steps forward into the gap between them.

“Are you gonna call me a good boy if I do?” he asks almost under his breath, just above a whisper.

They’re standing so, so close together now, Sanji is sure Amy can feel his breath on her forehead and the place where his shorts are almost too tight to contain him—because she might have called him a tall glass of water, but to him her eyes are Dressrosi kahlua, and he is so drunk on her gaze he would confess to a lot more than his longings, just for another shot.

“I can call you anything you like,” she breathes, “when I am entirely at your service.”

Their lips meet now in a kiss that, for all the repartee and flirtation that preceded it, is gentle and unhurried, a moment to be savored. After a few moments they pull apart, all smiles, long enough for Sanji to remark:

“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.”

The pair dissolve into giggles and quick pecks as Sanji finally lays himself down beside the snacks.

To his left, recumbent and supporting herself on one arm, Amy realizes her mistake and gestures to the tray. "Would you mind passing me those?" she asks.

"I thought you were supposed to be serving me," he replied with a mock pout and still-twinkling eyes.

"I was always taught it was impolite to reach directly across someone's personal space." Amy raises an eyebrow, still looking amused.

Gently, tentatively, as if reaching out to pet a cat, Sanji places his left hand on the small of her back. The hitch in Amy's breath at his touch and the way her eyes widen send a tingling sensation down his spine, straight to his groin. He flashes her the most charming smile he can muster.

"Chérie, in case I haven't made it clear, I want you in my personal space; and unless I am reading you wrong, in which case I apologize sincerely..." He begins to remove his hand.

"No, no, keep doing that—"

(Amy almost doesn't recognize that plaintive voice as her own, but the way his broad palm spread across her back and the soothing way he moved his thumb in little circles have seared themselves into her mind like an addiction.)

Sanji, that smug, sexy bastard, grins and does as he is told.

“…if I am not mistaken, you want me in your personal space, too.”

Amy is speechless for a moment with an embarrassment she can’t quite explain, but she knows exactly how to get back at Sanji. With his hand back in its place holding her, she smiles sweetly and says:

“Thank you…”

—she moves not only to reach across him for the food, but also to straddle him entirely, which she is sure was his plan to begin with; but then she leans her head close to his, and her smile turns impish—

“…or should I say ‘good boy’?”

Pulling her waist closer with one hand and pushing himself up from the floor with the other arm, Sanji kisses Amy again, trailing along her jawline with an unmistakable urgency.

“Mon amour,” he pleads, “laisse-moi te montrer ce que tu m’inspires…” [Let me show you what you inspire in me...]

“Ho-hold on, lover boy,” Amy gasps, giving the smallest yelp when his hand squeezes a plush asscheek and presses her body against his hardness. “Don’t forget what you came here to do. We don’t—fuck—we don’t waste food.” She pushes against Sanji’s chest and hopes he can see the sympathetic reluctance in her face.

He whimpers. Sanji whimpers, and the sound of it is almost enough to break her resolve; but she knows that if he loved anything in the world more than women, it would be food alone. She presses her forehead to his and a gentle kiss to his nose.

“We don’t waste food.”

If Sanji didn’t know better, he’d think he was dreaming. If he’s dreaming, then woe betide the person who wakes him up, he thinks.

The afternoon sun backlights Amy’s head like a halo, and the breeze through the window causes her brown hair to flutter like a curtain or a sacred veil. Sanji thanks whatever deities are listening—for surely the vision above him is divine in source as well as appearance—for every person before him who fumbled their chance at the privilege that is now his. Hell if he knows what a rejected-princeling-turned-pirate-cook could possibly offer that is worthy of a goddess like this; but he would devote himself to her, be her high priest, beg her to take him as her throne—anything for the heaven in her embrace, if she would only let him.

We don’t waste food.

The reminder nudges Sanji out of his angst, and he grins. “Let’s have those snacks, then, before we get carried away and fill up on something else.”

He gives Amy one more kiss on her lips, chaste yet searing, and lets her go.

The absence of his hand on her waist feels like a loss, until she sits back to reach for the grapes and feels something pressing below her tailbone. She exchanges a knowing smile with the man pinned beneath her, handsome as a demigod.

“You know, if we share those snacks, they’ll be gone faster,” he muses, before dropping his voice even lower. “Then you and I can have our ways with each other.”

“Someone’s eager.” Amy winks and picks up a piece of bruschetta.

“Eager to please you, eager to serve you, eager to feel you in the throes of bliss—yes, I am eager, and you deserve an eager lover, Amy.”

Amy looks stunned. Sanji gestures to the bread slice in her hand.

“Mind telling me how that bruschetta tastes?” he asks. “I used a different combination of cheese and seasoning since we couldn’t find any mozzarella in the last port.”

You deserve an eager lover.

Amy knows this to be true, knows that a lack of sex is better than mediocre sex; but knowing is one thing, and hearing a would-be lover echo the sentiment is another. Not only that: Sanji says it with such conviction, as if pleading with her to believe it too. It's refreshing. Arousing.

So...maybe she leans forward a bit more than necessary when she brings a morsel to Sanji's waiting mouth, and delights in the way his noises of appreciation seem to be as much for the heft of her breasts as for the acidic tang of the diced tomatoes. Maybe she grinds her bottom on his clothed cock just a little when she reaches for another handful of grapes, and smiles with the knowledge that his moaning isn't only for the bursts of sweetness on his tongue. Maybe she is uncommonly thorough when licking the sticky tangerine juice off his fingers.

Entirely at your service.

Maybe I’ll serve you some.

Swimming as their heads are with heady lust, it takes Sanji and Amy by surprise when they find the snack tray empty. They stare at it in silence for a long moment, before—

“Should I, uh—”

“That went more—”

“No, sorry, you go—”

“You go—”

Sanji sits up, laughing, and Amy kneels in front of him, head cocked to one side.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any condoms on you, or know whether Zoro keeps any up here?” Amy asks quietly.

“Hm? I think Mosshead keeps all his in his belt thing; Franky’s shooting blanks and exclusive with Miss Robin, so they don’t need any—”

“Wait, how does Franky know…”

“Apparently the Surgeon of Death also does vasectomies from time to time—wish I’d thought of that the last time we ran into them.”

“Damn. But do you have any?” Amy asks, leaning closer and poking him gently.

Sanji sighs deeply. “Don’t got any rubbers on me, but I keep some in the bunk room…”

“Hmmm, mais je ne peux plus attendre.” With her left hand on his right cheek, Amy pulls Sanji in for a lingering kiss. “J’ai besoin de toi maintenant.” [but I can't wait anymore; I need you now]

“Fuck, Amy,” Sanji groans between hungry, open-mouthed kisses, “how’m I supposed to resist you when you talk to me all sweet like that?” He slides a hand just above the waist of her sarong for emphasis, and cautiously slips a couple fingertips between fabric and skin.

Amy allows her fingernails to lightly scrape his skin as her free hand finds his spine; the hand already on his face threads through his hair. “You’re not supposed to resist me,” she murmurs into his jawline as she pulls his head back to expose his neck. “You’re supposed to forget about that snack tray, forget about our crewmates”—she places a cluster of kisses along his neck—“and enjoy some time alone with your lover—”

Your lover. The words send shivers coursing over Sanji’s skin.

“—just…enjoy yourself for a while.” She looks up at him through half-lidded eyes and allows one hand to drift down to his waistband.

“Well, when you put it like that—merde, ça me sens bien—let me at least put a towel down for us?” Sanji reluctantly extracts himself from Amy, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand when he catches a pout on her lovely face. [that feels good]

“Make it quick, mon amour…vraiment, j’ai besoin de toi…” [truly, I need you]

Sanji pulls a couple towels from a nearby rack, drapes the larger one so that it flows from the bottom step onto the floor, and sets the smaller one beside it. Approaching Amy, he holds a hand out to her with the air of a gentleman at a ball asking a lady to dance. She takes it and pulls herself up to stand in front of him.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” she asks with an adoring smile.

Sanji cups her face in both of his hands and looks her in the eyes. “We can stop at any time and it won’t cause problems between us, y’know that, right? I want this to be enjoyable for both of us.”

Amy lets her eyes flick down to Sanji’s parted lips before meeting his gaze. “What would really be enjoyable right now is you kissing me…”

“So needy,” he teases, but obliges Amy anyway.

“‘Needy’? The love cook calls me ‘needy’?” she replies with mock outrage. “You’re the one who tricked me into straddling you and got so horny over a simple pet name that you reverted to Celestial!”

Sanji gives her a mischievous smile and another peck. “You stepped into the trap very willingly, though, didn’t you?” Another kiss, lingering a moment, and he adds: “And I know for a fact you loved it when I switched languages.”

“Quoi d’autre peux-tu faire avec ta langue, hmm?” Amy whispers against Sanji’s lips. [What else can you do with your tongue]

“S’il te plaît, chérie,” he whispers in kind, his fingers dancing lightly along one arm as he lifts it to his shoulder, “je peux te démontrer…” [If it please you, I can demonstrate]

Suddenly he bends down, and with a grunt he lifts Amy by her thighs, one on either side of his waist. He sets her down on the towel.

No sooner does Sanji let go of her legs than Amy is on him, gripping his face with both hands and kissing him voraciously.

“That’s so—ungh—so fucking hot, Sanji,” she moans. “Fuck, you’re strong.”

“You’re not that heavy, are you?” Sanji manages to say between kisses—not that he’s complaining. “Ten stone, twelve?”

“Fourteen last I checked,” Amy murmurs into his chin. “You’re so good at what you do, I’m always hungry for more.”

Sanji chuckles at her double entendre. “Fourteen’s nothin’, long as I let my legs do the work.”

“Definitely the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen.” Amy sucks lightly at the base of Sanji’s neck, and almost erases his train of thought completely.

“Merde—since your own, of course, right?” He places his hands on her knees and ever-so-slowly moves them upward.

“Mmm, naturally,” Amy murmurs, more interested in Sanji’s collarbone.

“Are you even listening right now?” Sanji asks, grinning with amusement as he pulls away. He laughs when Amy makes a whining noise and chases him with her lips.

“Your tongue is doing way too much talking, lover boy. Starting to think maybe you’re all talk.”

Sanji narrows his eyes.

Before Amy has time even to discern anything from his smile, Sanji’s gripping the back of her head in one hand and nudging her mouth open with his tongue. His other hand slides higher along her thighs, tantalizingly close to where she suddenly realizes she needs his touch the most. She moans into Sanji’s hungry mouth, the noise sounding more like a whimper than she would have liked to admit were she clear-minded; but her senses are consumed with him, and she can’t bring herself to care. His appreciative groans are like held notes on a saxophone; he smells of musky cologne and sweat in a way that registers as the essence of virility in the back of her mind; he electrifies her skin with the slightest contact; she can taste fruit and spice on his tongue, and—

“Sanj, there’s something metal in your mouth, is that a piercing or…?”

Amy leans back to peer into Sanji’s grinning mouth, and sure enough, the frenulum is pierced with a horseshoe bar.

She puts her arms around his neck and pulls him close again. “You know, I’d heard you described as having a silver tongue,” she teases, her lips a hair’s breadth from his, “but I didn’t think Nami and Usopp were being serious.”

Sanji kisses her again, delicate and sweet like a meringue. “It’s surgical steel, love, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He chuckles and Amy rolls her eyes fondly.

“Now, why don’t we go back to your talent show?” she suggests.

“A show, hmm? I’ve never tried exhibitionism, but we can talk kinks later, sure.”

“You know what I meant!” Amy laughs, giving Sanji’s shoulder a playful backhand.

“Oh, yes, that’s right: the talent show in which I”—Sanji places one more kiss on Amy’s smiling mouth—“pleasure this lovely lady”—he whispers before kissing behind her ear and sliding his hands to the laces of her top—“with my tongue until she”—loosens the knot holding the halter-neck in place and nips an exposed shoulder, prompting her to buck against him—“begs me to make her cum on my face.” He presses his face into her cleavage, and looks up to gauge her expression. “That one?”

Amy combs a hand through Sanji’s corn-silk hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and gasps with something like awe marbled with need. His lust-darkened eyes peering up at her from between her breasts might be the most erotic thing she’s ever seen.

Entirely at your service.

You deserve an eager lover.

“Oh, Sanji…” she sighs and leans back against the bench. “Please, yes, I need it…

“…do I get to serve you after?”

The question is so airy and quiet that Sanji almost doesn’t catch it, occupied as he is with the scent of Amy’s perfume and the solemn task of unbuttoning her from the other side. “What’s that, darling?”

Amy holds his face between her hands and pets his flushed cheeks with her thumbs. “Do I get to return the favor once you’ve made good on those wonderful things you said you want to do to me?”

“You may not need to. I’m pretty, ah, worked up right now—might be that I’ll follow you over the edge when you cum for me.” Sanji kisses her palm and, taking hold of her hand, guides it along the faint trail of hair leading to where he needs her touch the most.

Amy wants to press the question further, but contents herself with pressing her hand to the bulge in Sanji’s shorts. She gasps in wonder at his size and the needy cry that pours from his lips.

“Let’s find out for sure, shall we?” She turns her back to Sanji and lifts her hair out of the way.

Seating himself on the bench beside Amy, Sanji can reach the buttons just fine, but he welcomes the chance to lavish her neck with a flurry of kisses. He smiles against her skin at her giggling, and thinks of how quickly the sound is becoming one of his favorites.

Amy’s breath, already shaking, hitches when she feels her top come loose, and again when Sanji sucks lightly on the skin joining her neck to her shoulders.

“Sanji, please…”

“Shhh, darling, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs as his hands snake over the bare skin of her waist to cover hers in the front. “Your body is so soft, so beautiful. I love it.

“Can…can I just…feel it for a moment first? Explore it, admire it for a bit before I ravish you?” Sanji continues, tracing with his fingers the places that had previously been covered.

“Just as long as your body stays on mine.” Amy sighs dreamily and leans against him, eyes closed, happy to let him fill her senses once again.

There has, historically, been precious little in Sanji’s life that could be described as soft or tender. Such is a hard-working life at sea, to say nothing of what came before his stint on the Orbit; even on such a well-appointed ship as the Thousand Sunny, piracy is piracy, and the oceans swallow the weak. So when something comes Sanji’s way that could be construed as even the vaguest promise of devotion, he has learned to seize it, to enjoy it while he can, before the Blue Mother’s waves inevitably carry it out of reach.

He does not seize Amy, for she is not a pipe dream or a fantasy: she is substantial, in multiple senses of the word, generous in the warm plushness of her body and likewise in the beauty of her soul. He paces himself, like a man who has known starvation followed by plenty; though he does have to take a steadying breath when she sets aside the bralette and turns toward him, now bare-chested. One hand goes to her heartbeat, one to her shoulder, trailing downward and leaving a tingling heat in its wake.

“I want to figure you out, chérie, before I take you apart,” Sanji rasps in Amy’s ear as he engages his haki.

Amy has a hunch she’s in for some of the best sex of her life. Not that she has a great deal of first-hand experience for the love cook to exceed—men did not often stay in her life long enough for attraction to develop—but even if Sanji is as much of a serial womanizer as Nami and Zoro make him out to be, he has already proven attentive and empathetic enough to be above average. It’s not his skill she’s worried about—

The casual flick of a thumb across a now-stiffened nipple jolts Amy back into the moment with a squeal.

“Fuck, Sanji, that feels so good, do it again…”

He obliges, of course he does, and pleasure like an electric shock goes straight to her cunt, suddenly flooded with slick. She arches her back, leaning forward into his touch; and he must have heard the needy impatience in her wordless moan, because he pulls her flush with him and nibbles her ear.

“Où d’autre, where else do you need me?” Sanji murmurs. “J’ai besoin de te plaîre…” [Where else; I need to please you]

Where doesn’t she need him? Amy wonders. “Everywhere, babe, jus’—fuck—everywhere. My neck, my hands, my tits, need you inside, everywhere.”

Sanji’s face lights up like he’s received the best news of his life, and he kisses her again.

“As my lady commands.”

As he nibbles at her ear and her neck, Amy can’t resist rolling her hips against him, flush as she is with his hardened abdomen and his cock, and spirits it feels so good—

“Amy, my love,” Sanji pleads, “I don’t want to cum yet, let me do this for you—”

“But Sanji…”

“Amy. Don’t you want me to keep my promise to you?”

He stands and pulls her up as well, and continues: “Don’t you want to find out what my tongue can do? I should think you wouldn’t want the talent show to end so early.”

“Your fingers untying my skirt are giving me a mixed signal,” Amy mutters, though her fingers digging out the knots belie the annoyance in her words.

“I’m going to have you lay back for me, darling,” Sanji says as he folds the sarong, “and I want to have a cushion for your beautiful head.” He holds the garment out to her, and he’s looking at her with such tenderness that she feels something clench in her chest. “Your comfort matters to me.”

“And you feeling good matters to me.”

“Tell you what,” Sanji offers as his hands push gently on Amy’s hips, encouraging her to sit. “I get to taste every part of you, and you get to shower me in praise and ‘good boys’ to your heart’s content. How does that sound?”

“And then I get to play with your cock?” she asks, pouting slightly but positioning herself on the towel nevertheless.

Sanji makes a choked gasp. “Merde, yes, then you can play with my cock.”

“Sounds good to me.” Amy leans back and watches as he hems her in, elbows on either side of her shoulders, powerful legs astride her own.

Sanji takes a deep breath and considers what he learns from his haki. Amy shudders almost imperceptibly with each heaving breath; her eyes, wide and dark, dart between his eyes, his lips, his chest, and occasionally his groin. Her back is arched just enough to not have the steps’ wooden lip pressing into her, or perhaps she means to draw his attention back to her sizeable breasts; and her knees are turned outward, as though readying her legs to cage his lower torso close to her own. She smells of jasmine, sweat, and the spiced tang of arousal, so much arousal.

He can’t wait to taste her. With no dissonance of thought or feeling in her aura to give him pause, the tasting begins.

He starts, quite naturally, with her mouth: lips that capture his sight whenever she has occasion to wear lipstick, staining his fantasies a pomegranate red; gasps and moans that spill from her like an overturned glass of sparkling wine; the lingering taste of sweet words and peppery olive oil on a tongue seeking out its counterpart to pull him closer. When the cruel need for oxygen forces them to pull apart, Sanji and his own clever tongue find the sensitive spot just behind Amy’s ear that he knows will make her nerves sing—

“SANJI, oh gods!” she cries, sure enough—

“Amy, chérie, would you be very offended if I were to leave a souvenir on your skin?” Sanji asks in a husky voice while he has her ear. “A mark of my passion, so to speak?”

Amy does not answer right away and her frenzied groping stills, but her embrace remains steady, which soothes his unease. She’s considering it, Sanji reminds himself.

Finally, she caresses his cheek, and he takes the chance to kiss her inner wrist. “Put them in places that can be covered with ease,” she replies decisively. “Whatever…this is”—for the first time since he found her in the crow’s nest Sanji hears a note of apprehension in her voice—“it’s our treasure, and I’d like to enjoy it that way for a bit before making it known to anyone else.

“We may be Straw Hats, but we are still pirates,” Amy continues with a smile returning to her face. “I think we’re allowed to be a little cagey about our hidden treasure.”

Whatever this is. Our hidden treasure. When he looks back on this afternoon, with Amy’s words hanging in the air between them, this won’t be the moment Sanji falls in love, much less when he recognizes his heart as belonging entirely to her; but something does shift in him, a moment he will later describe as Amy beginning to take root in his soul.

In the meantime, Sanji’s cock is twitching at the prospect of marking this woman as his, and again with the thrill of keeping a secret. “Such an angel,” he groans into her neck, “such a privilege just to touch you.”

Such a dangerous business, this whole falling-in-love thing, Amy thinks to herself. No, she’s not in love, not with one of the most notorious flirts on the Grand Line, even if he does look like he belongs on a magazine cover instead of a pirate vessel. Even if she isn’t merely imagining the heartbroken look on his face at the words ‘whatever this is’. Even if he is the most caring lover she’s ever had—because that’s just the thing: he does love generously, he loves in defiance of the sire he left behind, he loves and he loves and it would be selfish of her to want some part of it to be hers alone, wouldn’t it? No, she’s not in love with Sanji, but the cliff’s edge is right there, and the call of the void is strong.

“Chérie, have I lost you again? Is everything alright?”

Sanji’s handsome, smiling face is hovering above her chest again. Amy runs her fingers through his hair—he closes his eyes and hums at the sensation—and tucks it behind his ear.

“I was just…distracted by your beauty.” She smiles and winks.

“Using my own lines on me, are you?” Sanji growls in mock annoyance.

“What?! I’m just learning from the best.”

“Flatterer.”

“Clearly flattery works, or else you wouldn’t be straddling a mostly-naked woman right now.” Amy begins to drag one foot along Sanji’s leg for emphasis.

In lieu of an answer, he shudders and trails a finger along the side of one breast, which he lifts toward his mouth. While Amy lets her head fall back against the improvised cushion, he mouths at one pebbled areola with relish and strokes the other with a firm thumb, basking in her babbled praises over the next several minutes.

“That feels so, so good, darling, so good…

“Gods, your tongue is incredible—yes, just like that!”

“Oh, fuck—could let you do just this to me for hours…”

…and Sanji thinks, feeling the way she bucks and tenses under his caresses, he’d be willing to do it, too, his own erection be damned, if he didn’t think muscle cramps on his part would put a damper on her pleasure. If nothing else happens between him and Amy, he could at least go for months touching himself just to this memory.

Mercifully, the sound of a soft chuckle interrupts Sanji’s anxious thoughts before they have a chance to spiral. He leaves off the sucking motion of his tongue and looks into Amy’s half-lidded eyes. “Chérie?” he inquires tentatively.

She again combs his hair back with her fingers, still smiling. “It just struck me as funny, the way you looked like a boy licking his first ice cream cone of the summer.”

Sanji stares a moment before spluttering with indignation. “And what is a man supposed to look like as he is worshiping at his lady’s breasts?”

Unfortunately, this serves only to make the lady in question laugh harder, albeit with fondness, and touch her forehead to his.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! It felt so good, but when I opened my eyes, there you were, swirling your tongue like you were afraid of letting your mint chocolate chip melt—”

“Melt?!” Sanji echoes, still playfully indignant. “Oh, I’ll make you melt—”

—to which end he pushes Amy back down and renews his ministrations with a vengeance, licking and sucking and nipping the sensitive buds, and tickling her sides. His hands slide lower and lower along her hips until he’s teasing the skin just above her panties; and when she makes no move to bat his hand away, he dips two fingers into the heat of her folds.

Amy never knew sex could be so fun.

Well, no, that’s not quite true; she’s long known, in an intellectual sort of way, that feeling safe and relaxed emotionally is conducive to both having fun and to having good sex. But the wisdom gleaned from others feels like an understatement compared to the euphoria and the anticipation suffusing her right now.

“You—” she pants, smiling, “you’re as good as your word, ah-aren’t you?”

Sanji releases a reddened nipple with a lewd smack. “And you, love, have been melting for a while already, haven’t you?” He runs a finger along her slit, grinning wickedly at her wetness.

“Oh fuck, Sanji, keep—keep doing that…”

“Tell me, Amy, is all of this for me?” Sanji all but purrs. Her pussy clenches at the sight of him licking her slick off of his hand and she whimpers.

A whimper is not enough for him: his fingers tease her clit, dancing around but never touching it. He flicks a nipple with his tongue. “I need words, ma chère…” he says.

Amy does not have words, though. There is nothing in Amy’s world save her body, and Sanji’s touch, and pure sensation.

“Answer me,” Sanji insists in a rumbled voice; and when he hears no answer but more wordless whimpering, he bites on Amy’s nipple and strokes her clit at the same time.

“Fuck! SANJI!” she screams, mustering the last two words in her brain as her world turns from pure sensation to white-hot ecstasy.

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#one piece #one piece live action #black leg sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece oc #oc: Amy Lovejoy #sanji smut #sanji x oc #oc x canon #one piece smut #my fictional husband #my ocs #my fanfiction

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