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kinanabinks · a day ago
Cute as a Fuckin' Button • P3
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You finally get the chance to take Steve out - but things rarely ever go to plan for you.
Content Warning: Mob!Reader x Baker!Steve, flirting, fluff, protective!reader, threat of violence, alcohol consumption, kissing, heavy petting, mention of guns.
Series Masterlist
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It's a Saturday morning when you see Steve standing outside of his bakery having some sort of disagreement with a delivery driver.
"I clearly stated that I need 40 bags," He says sternly with his hands on his hips. Though you hate to see him upset, you love seeing him frustrated. It's a new side of him, and it's hot as all hell.
"What's the problem here?" You interject, looking the driver up and down who just frowns at you.
"It's nothing," Steve mumbles.
"Tell me," You insist, placing your hand on his arm.
He looks down bashfully. "I thought I ordered 40 bags of brown sugar, but he says he only owes me 20-"
"Ha! You thought! You just admitted that you're wrong!" The driver exclaims with an accomplished grin, making your blood boil.
"Stevie, you got a receipt?" You ask him softly as his nose scrunches up.
"I- I think so, in my office," He answers you with a shrug.
You pat his arm gently. "Go get it for me, button."
He does as you say, walking into the bakery and disappearing into the back. Once he's out of sight, you turn to the driver with a blank look.
"You got more brown sugar in your van?" You question him.
"Uh, yeah," He says with an upturned nose. "For my next delivery, that people actually ordered and paid for."
Having had enough of his attitude, you glare at him. "Get 20 more bags out."
He scoffs at your order. "Oh, please-"
You cut him off by grabbing him by the collars and pushing him up against his van, all while Shuri stands to the side with a bored look on her face. "I'm not kidding around, asshole," You seethe. "Get the fucking sugar out before I get my friend here to replace your teeth with her fist. Do you understand me?"
Shakily, he nods, his eyes wide. "Y-yes. I understand."
Smiling, you relax and let go of him. "Wonderful."
He begrudgingly gets to the task, bitterly taking out the bags of sugar and stacking them next to the original 20. Steve comes out after a few minutes, looking utterly distressed with his hair messy as though he's been pulling on it.
"I can't find the receipt," He mumbles, before frowning. "What's going on?"
"Oh, our friend realized he was wrong," You tell him with a smile as you fix his hair. "And he's even gonna throw in an extra 10 bags for the inconvenience."
Your words make the driver's eyes narrow, but he silently gets on with it. Once he's put out a total of 50 bags, he gives you a short nod before getting into his van and driving away.
"Thank God," Steve mumbles. "I was beginning to think I had acctually only ordered 20."
He starts lifting up the bags, but you stop him, pulling him back. "Don't worry about those, baby. Shuri can handle them for you," You tell him.
She rolls her eyes but gets to the task, taking the bags inside while you and Steve sit in one of the booths.
"You close this place on the weekend?" You ask, looking around the bakery.
"It's the only time I get off," He tells you with a shrug. "I'm the only one who works here, besides the cleaners. And it's hardly time off; I usually spend Saturdays taking inventory and putting in orders for stock, and I occasionally take commissioned custom orders."
You smile to yourself. What a hard-working man.
"Did- did you want anything in particular?" Steve asks you with wide eyes. "I can whip something up for you real fast-"
"Nonsense, Steve, it's your day off," You say, placing your hand on top of his. "Besides, I came here to see you."
His cheeks flush at your words. "Me?"
"Yes, you, my little button," You confirm, stroking the back of his hand as he holds back a smile. "While it's always great to see your face, I need to run something by you."
"Oh?" He asks, confused. "What is it?"
"I never want to do anything without your consent, whether it's for your benefit or not," You preface earnestly. "The thing is, your bakery lives on an... awkward street, to say the least."
"Awkward?" Steve repeats with a frown.
You nod, trying to figure out how best to word it. "Nobody really owns it."
He lets out a soft laugh. "Nobody owns any street."
His naivety makes you smile. "Not in this town, button. You see, the West, South and East Side of town are seen as my domain. I run things there."
Steve swallows thickly. "Run things?"
You narrow your eyes at him. "You don't have to be polite with me, baby. You haven't heard any horror stories about me yet? None of the old biddies warning you not to let me in your shop?"
He looks down, unable to meet your eyes. "Well..."
"Yeah, exactly," You say with a laugh. "You know what I kind of work I do?"
"Not exactly," He admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
With a sigh, you lean forward. "It's best we keep it that way for now, button."
"O- Okay," Steve agrees with a nod.
"Anyway, the North Side is pretty harsh, especially to me and mine," You tell him, before lowering your voice and leaning in. "And I see you as mine, Stevie."
His eyes widen at that and he feels his heart skip a beat. Yours.
"And it won't be long before the North find out that you're mine, button," You tell him as calmly as possible so as to not make him panic. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that, even though your bakery falls on an awkward street that's neither North nor West, it's protected."
"Protected," Steve repeats with a whisper.
You take his hand and hold it to your chest. "You are protected."
He blinks a few times. "From what?"
His question makes you smile as you pat his arm. "Things I'll do everything in my power to keep you from learning about."
Steve seems happy enough to accept your cryptic answer. "Okay."
Deciding that that's enough serious talk, you sit up. "You ever been taken anywhere real nice for dinner? Real fancy?"
He shakes his head slowly. "No."
His answer makes you gleam. "You free tonight?"
Steve doesn't even think to check his mental calendar; there's no way he's going to say no. "I am," He answers you softly.
"Great," You say with a grin as you stand up. "I'll pick you up at 8."
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"How did you know where I live?" Steve asks you as he walks out of his building and sees you standing outside your flashy car that definitely doesn't fit in with this neighborhood.
You shoot him a smirk as you lean back. "I have my ways." Looking him up and down, you can't help but bite your lip. "You look absolutely fucking gorgeous, button."
He would usually be flustered at your compliment, but he's too busy being blown away by how good you look. Dressed in a slinky, burgundy dress with a slit leg and golden jewellery adorning your skin, you look like a movie star from the 50s.
And Steve himself is wearing a black button-up shirt with some grey fitted slacks. He smells like aftershave, and his thickening beard has been freshly shaped, along with his hair. If you didn't know what a sweetheart he is, you'd be intimidated.
"Well?" You press, raising a brow when he hasn't spoken for a full minute. "Do you think I look nice, Stevie?"
A nervous laugh leaves his mouth as he nods. "You look... you look stunning, Y/N."
Butterflies fill your stomach at his words, and you're immediately embarrassed by the power he doesn't he know he has over you. Get a grip. You're a grown woman, not a teenager with a crush.
"Thank you, button," You say softly, before feeling yourself freeze in place. What are you doing? Just kiss him. Take what you want, like you have all your life.
But you physically can't move.
As though he can sense your rigidity, Steve leans in and places a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Shall we go?" He asks in a whisper, melting you out of your panic.
"Yes," You reply. "I've made reservations at Guigino's."
"Sounds good," He says with a smile, before moving to open the door for you.
"What a gentleman," You mumble, giving him a wink as you get into the car.
The restaurant, as you requested, is empty save for the chef and a waiter.
"You really didn't have to book the whole place out," Steve says as he looks around the dining room.
"Don't be silly, button," You say, placing your hand on his. "I wanted us to have a little privacy."
As adorable as he is, he says nothing while his cheeks flush pink.
The two of you share a pleasant dinner, getting through a bottle and a half of wine between you as the sky darkens outside. Feeling a little buzzed, you sit next to him, taking the empty glass from his hand and putting it on the table.
He looks down at you with wonder in his eyes, and a question. Is she about to kiss me?
"You're beautiful, you know that?" You ask him softly, stroking his bicep. It's firm under your touch, making your thighs twitch.
"I don't know about that," He whispers back to you. "But you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."
His words make you laugh and you lean in closer, shaking your head. "I see you're just as much a sweet-talker as you are a sweet-maker."
"I see what you did there," He says with a chuckle just as his cheek brushes against yours. "Very smart."
"You tease, but I actually am very smart," You retort, feeling a little dizzy with excitement as his breath hits your lips.
"Oh, I don't doubt it," He mumbles, his eyes hooked to yours.
The tension finally becomes unbearable and you snap it in half with a kiss. It's a short, quick one, and the two of you share a laugh before kissing again, much deeper this time. His hand cups your cheek and yours goes down to his upper thigh, which tenses under your touch.
His tongue swirls around yours and he wraps his free hand around the leg of your chair before pulling it closer to his. When your hand creeps up to his boner and rubs over it, he lets out a whimper into your mouth, his hips bucking up slightly.
Steve pulls away with a gasp as you continue stroking his hard cock through his pants, his eyelids fluttering. "I-" He stops himself as he shudders under your touch. "I don't usually... do this on first dates."
"Well, don't I feel special?" You ask, smirking when you feel his dick harden even more.
Saying nothing, he just blushes, making you move your hand away from his boner and back down to his thigh.
"Do you want me to stop?" You question him, rubbing his shoulder with your free hand.
He squirms at the loss of your touch, placing his hand on top of yours with a frown and shyly moving it back up. "Don't stop," He mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. "Please."
"You don't have to ask so nicely," You tell him with a coy smile. "You can tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."
His eyes meet yours and it's clear that he isn't the type of man to order you around - especially not in terms of sex. Admittedly, you don't have much experience with his kind, but it makes him all the more intriguing, and all the more fun to corrupt.
You bring your lips back to his as you continue stroking his boner, making him gasp and whimper weakly into your mouth. "Do you like that, button?" You ask him slyly. "Am I making you feel good?"
"Yes," He sighs, throwing his head back as his eyes flutter shut. "Oh, God."
His low groans and mewls are like music to your ears, sending tingles straight through your body. He grabs your wrist, moaning over and over as you whisper in his ear.
"Being so good for me, baby," You tell him, kissing his neck. "You gonna let me see it?"
Your eyes meet and he swallows thickly, waiting for you to make the next move. Just as your fingers find his zipper, though, someone crashes through the front door of the restaurant. Immediately, you pull away from Steve and stand up with your hand on your hidden holster.
It's Shuri, with a wide-eyed look on her face as she breathes heavily.
"What are you doing here, huh?" You ask, trying your best not to show your anger to Steve but horribly failing.
"Viz is here," She tells you, making you glare.
"And?" You scoff. "Who gives a fuck?"
"He knows you let Ward off the hook for his debt," She reveals regretfully. "Now Viz is saying you're playing favorites and wants his money back- the money he owed you, anyway."
"Shit," You grumble while Steve sits in silent confusion. "How did he know I was here?"
"He saw your fuckin' car; apparently he's been looking for you all day," She tells you with a shrug.
"Well, tell him to fuck off home, I'm busy," You say, aggravated that your first intimate moment with Steve was interrupted.
Shuri sneaks a glance to Steve before lowering her voice. "He's got a gun."
Seeing Steve tense up makes you sigh. This date is going awfully. "So, what?" You say to Shuri bitterly. "So does half the city."
She winces. "He's holding it to Sam's head."
Her revelation makes your eyes widen as you frown at her. "Why wouldn't you fucking lead with that, Shuri?"
"I figured you'd want context!" She argues, making you huff.
"Take Steve home, then call Coulson and ask him why the fuck anyone knows about what happened with Ward," You order her bluntly, before leaning down to give Steve a short, sweet kiss. When you pull away, you cup his cheeks and offer him a smile. "I'm so sorry, button, but I've gotta take care of this."
"O- okay," He replies, standing up. "When will I see you again?"
"Soon, baby, I promise," You tell him, placing his hands on your hips as you give him a quick hug before pulling back and looking up at him coyly. "And don't worry; I intend on finishing what I started."
His heart flutters.
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also, if you are willing and able, i would appreciate if you buy me a kofi - even the smallest of donations help me out so much! ❤
Part 4 》
hi! i no longer have a taglist, but if you follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications, you'll know when i post 🥰
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devildom-drabbles · 2 days ago
Snippet - MC’s Death in Lesson 16
How do the demon brothers react to Belphegor attacking MC in Lesson 16?
Warnings: Mentions of blood and death; Angst
In Lesson 16, we only get very brief glimpses of the brothers’ individual responses when Belphegor attacks the alternate-timeline MC, who ends up dying/disappearing in Mammon’s arms.  Using the dialogue from the game, I wanted to delve a little deeper into their reactions (minus Belphegor’s) to make the event more impactful.  A big thanks to @tehsammutna​ for her input and for letting me bounce ideas off her!
The six demon brothers are in the common room of HoL when they suddenly hear screaming, maniacal laughter, and loud thumps down the stairs.  They rush to the entrance hall to discover MC’s limp, distorted figure lying at the foot of the stairs as Belphegor looms over them with a wicked smile.
Mammon is the first to react, running as fast as his legs will take him only to collapse on his knees next to MC.  He holds the human’s bloody body close to him, calling out to them frantically while paying no mind to Belphegor, who may as well have been invisible.  His primary focus is trying to keep MC conscious.  He's too alarmed to really be more productive, like considering the use of healing magic or providing any kind of first aid, although neither may have been of any help at that point anyway.  Belphie notes that Mammon is acting like it’s the end of the world, and for Mammon, it really feels like it.  He’s choking back sobs, a few teardrops falling down onto MC's face as their eyes grow more dull/distant and their breathing slows.  Despite this, he continues talking to them in vain, doing what he can to keep their eyes open and muttering promises he wouldn't keep in hopes of a miracle that would keep them alive.  “MC, don’t you die! MC...!”
Beelzebub is suffering the most from all of this.  He's just looking back and forth between MC and his twin brother in fear and disbelief, wondering how Belphegor is here and why he attacked MC.  He can hardly pay further attention to the situation in front of him as his mind is filled with intense flashbacks from when he couldn't save Lilith during the Celestial War.  His vision is fusing Lilith and MC together, and now he’s beginning to blame himself for everything that's happening.  He’s telling himself that it’s his fault that MC is in this state, just like he still feels at fault for not being able to protect Lilith from that fatal hit.  He’s also telling himself that he should've somehow been able to find and stop Belphie before this occurred, even though he had no idea Belphie was in the attic.  Tears well up in his eyes without him realizing it, but he does feel the regret and rage surging inside him, both at himself and toward his twin.  “Belphie, what have you done?!”
Leviathan is totally out of it at first while gazing at MC’s messy, motionless form.  The sight reminds him of a heart-wrenching scene in TSL between the Lord of Shadows and Henry.  He was starting to see MC as his Henry more and more recently, so the comparison made a few tears roll down his cheeks.  It was then that he overcame his initial shock and registered how upset he truly was by this event.  This can’t be real, he thinks repeatedly.  I’m just having a nightmare because of that TSL marathon I had with MC the other day.  It’s not real.  But as he watches MC continue to bleed out and show no signs of speaking or moving, reality fully sets in, crushing any hope of this being an illusion and making his legs grow weak.  “This is awful.  What’s going to happen to MC?!”
Satan remains as still as MC is, his mind swarming with information and emotion.  Ever the logical thinker, he studies MC’s body from where he’s standing to get an analysis on their condition using what he’s learned from his reading and through MC about humans.  However, he keeps being interrupted from his examination with bursts of wrath, tempting him to lunge at Belphegor right then and there and make him feel pain as terrible--if not more--as what MC was likely experiencing in that moment.  But he kept pushing his anger back down and returning his attention to the human.  The further he gets to the conclusion that MC isn’t going to make it, the more frequent and severe his internal rage becomes.  Unbeknownst to him at the time, his anger is merely a secondary emotion to the growing sadness he’s experiencing from the state MC is in.  “MC is a human.  With injuries this bad, the chances of survival are...”
Asmodeus shrieks the moment he sees MC’s body.  Rather than being struck frozen with shock, he’s very vocal and moves about in a panic.  After MC is in Mammon’s arms, Asmo approaches them and checks MC for a pulse and if they’re breathing.  Noticing that MC’s breathing is getting weaker, his alarm only intensifies.  He begs for his brothers’ help, but they’re mostly unresponsive due to their own reactions and internal conflicts.  He also starts asking Belphegor question after question without giving him a chance to respond, such as "What's gotten into you Belphie?”; “How do you know MC?; “Why would you hurt them?!"  He then wonders if MC is still breathing and returns his attention to them before once more pleading for help, repeating the cycle again.  “Lucifer, can’t we do something?!”
Lucifer is trying his best to manage everything around him, including himself.  Although he’s normally the most rational and composed brother in a crisis, his emotions and thoughts are running so rampant that he isn’t able to be very productive in this situation.  There's rage and shock toward Belphie, immense fear and concern toward MC, and increasing frustration from the many overwhelming reactions and voices of his other brothers.  He’s used to juggling a lot at once, but this?  This was too much for him.  The whole reason he kept Belphie locked away was to prevent such an incident, and now he wondered if he was actually wrong in his decision.  If he had dealt with the Belphegor differently, perhaps MC would be smiling and chatting with him and his brothers right now, rather than withering away before his very eyes.  His stern expression gradually weakens to reveal how helpless and defeated he feels, much to Belphie’s delight.  “Belphie, you…” . . .  “Gr…!”
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blackxwidowsxwife · a day ago
Bitter Pill
Natasha Romanoff x Reader Oneshot
Word Count: 2.3k
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(not my gif)
Summary: Natasha’s been away on a mission for half a year. You learn to cope with her absence, how will you cope with her return?
Warnings: ANGST so much Angst... I’m apologizing in advance for this. Also implied cheating, cursing & examples of a toxic relationship. Let me know if I need to add any!
gn!reader I believe 
pls no reposting! <3
You were sitting on a barstool in the kitchen with your back to the door and a glass of wine in hand. You were well on your second by now but couldn't bring yourself to take another sip. Everything felt like it required too much energy of you these days. 
Instead you stared blankly at the chipped wood on the surface of the table. You used to love tracing the tips of your fingers against the worn grain, you used to think it breathed life into your home, and Natasha always said it gave it character. 
But this place hadn’t felt like a home for a long time now, and the worn wood only served to remind you of just how long it had been since it did. 
You topped off your glass, making it a third, when the unexpected click of the front door lock sliding out of place alerted you to a guest. 
You didn't have to turn around to know who was standing behind you at the edge of the hall. Only one other person in the world had a key to this building, and yours rest just in front of you on the kitchen table next to your wine glass.
You heard the shuffling of feet behind you and a soft thud on the ground that you could only assume was Natasha dropping her bag. It’s slow descent and the subsequent thump on the wooden floor boards sounded almost as guilty as her dragging feet. They squeaked pathetically against the woodwork as she walked further into the room, likely from trailing snow in from outside.
Both sounds were grating on your ears and you felt your heart quicken its pace in annoyance. You heard the pause in her stride, probably expecting you to turn around and greet her, but you made no move to. 
The woman at the edge of the hallway cleared her throat earnestly before her hoarse whisper cracked and traveled across the space of the apartment, it sounded like tv static in your ears.
“I’m home.” 
This time you took a generous sip of your wine. You’d need all the liquid courage you could get to be able to initiate the conversation you knew was coming with her unexpected arrival.
Before Natasha could mistake your silence for an invitation to continue her walk of shame into your shared apartment you nodded your head and spoke.
The single word felt bitter on your tongue.
“That’s all I get?”
Natasha’s lack of conviction when she spoke clued you into the fact that she knew exactly why she deserved your response, or lack thereof. That fact only served to deepen the hollow pit in your stomach. 
“You know, a few months ago you would have been excited to see-”
She cut herself off the instant you whipped your head around and made eye contact with her. 
“Don't you dare finish that sentence.” you all but snarled out.
Her wide eyes and gaping mouth let you know you were a sight to behold. Eyes sunken and resting atop dark heavy bags. At least she didn't look too much better. 
There was an uncomfortable silence as you studied each other for the first time in months. She was still in her tactical gear and littered with bruises, you hated the way your stomach still twisted at the sight. 
She shrugged off her unzipped wet coat and let it drop to the floor. Her skin was flushed pink from the winter air.
Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed, but so were yours.
“Where have you been Nat?” You bit out. 
You watched as her demeanor physically collapsed on itself as she jumped straight into a barrage of excuses that you simply didn’t care to hear anymore.
“Hold on ok? Let me explain. Alright, i just-” She ran a shaking hand through the tresses of her red hair. It was inches shorter than you’d seen it last and styled differently. 
It only made her look more like a stranger than you’d already felt she’d become.
Suddenly you felt like vomiting.
“I know-” she started.
“No I don't think you do Natasha.”
She had the nerve to look surprised at the venom in your tone, as if you were the one who’d just chosen to show your face for the first time in over six months. 
Her green eyes were wide and frantic and you suppressed the urge to bark out a laugh at the flustered expression on her face. 
“Because if you did know, you wouldn't have left! If you cared even a little bit about me or my well being you would have called at least once-”
“I was just doing my Job!” she shouted. 
“No. You do not get to use that excuse on me.” You made your way over to the sink, emptying what was left of your glass and watching as swirls of red wine and water circled the drain. 
“You know I know better than that.” you finished, as you set your glass down.
“I’m sorry I didn't call, I was too busy trying to not die!” Natasha’s desperation broke through the sarcasm in her tone. 
You scoffed, gripping the counter as you turned to face the woman you loved. 
“Is that what you want to hear? I was on a fucking mission y/n! I’m sorry my life being on the line isn't a good enough excuse for you!”
“Is that really how you want to play this?” You raised your brow and dared her to continue.
You watched as she took a steadying breath and satisfaction rose in your chest at the fact that she was feeling just as distraught and unsettled as you were. It leveled the playing field in a confrontation you already felt so out of control in. 
“You knew what you were getting into when you married me.” she muttered out accusingly.
You gaped at her, taking in the sheer audacity of her statement. She just shut her eyes and pinched the space above her nose to exhibit her frustration. 
“Oh ok so you do remember that we’re married? Glad we’re clear on that.” 
“Don’t be so dramatic! You’re so incredibly sensitive it's exhausting” she groaned. 
“I’m the Black Widow! I dont exactly have the luxury of calling out sick to work, or racing home because my wife decided to be fucking clingy!”
“That’s not an excuse for giving me complete radio silence for nearly seven months Natasha! Where the fuck have you been?” You cried out, feeling the pain and frustration you’d been sitting alone with for months bubbling up in your chest, threatening to boil over.
“I was on a mission.” she stressed her words, patronizing you. 
“Yes, I’m so glad we’ve established that-” 
“You’ve always known what my job requires of me, you've always known the risks-”
“And I’ve never once complained!”
“So what makes this time so different?” 
“Seven months. Natasha. Seven months.”
You crossed your arms, leaning against the granite countertop behind you for support.
“Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you tell me you were ok?”
“My fucking god, youre crying over a pathetic little phone call? I’m sorry my life doesn't revolve around you!”
“That's not an explanation!” Your voice cracked with emotion and she looked at you like that fact annoyed her even more.
“I don't have one! And I don't need one. If you can't handle the fact that I’m an Avenger, and what my job entails, then there's the goddamn door!”
You took a deep breath to steady yourself and brought your hands to face.
“I just want the truth.” 
You searched her familiar forest green eyes, desperate to recognize the woman you used to know and love as you took in the silence that washed over the kitchen before her answer. 
“I already told you. I was on a mission.” 
Your chest was tight as she doubled down on her excuse. You knew then that the woman you loved was gone. There was no coming back from what your next words would expose, but you’d been ready for months now. Natasha’s answer had only made it easier.
“I spoke to Fury.”
At first she didn't catch on. Her jaw was still taut with frustration. 
“What does that-” her voice caught in her throat and you watched as her face fell with understanding.
“Wait, ok-” you cut her off before she could prattle off more excuses that would only insult your intelligence further.
“Then I spoke to Steve, and Bucky, and Sam, and Tony, and Wanda, oh and Vision! Even fucking Vision!” 
You laughed to yourself, remembering the lengths you went just months ago to ensure her safety, only to be humiliated by their sympathetic voices.  
“I talked to Clint, who was much harder to crack by the way. You trained him really well, Nat truly.”
You breathed heavily, allowing a lapse of silence before your admittance.
“And then, I spoke to Bruce.”
Natasha looked as if she’d been physically struck by your words. 
Her veneer of false confidence fractured completely and her appearance began to take on a look more akin to desperation. 
“What? Your little boyfriend didn’t tell you I called?”
“See when Fury told me that your mission ended three months ago, I was really concerned as to why you hadn’t come home.”
“Talking to Bruce was very insightful.” 
You swiped a stray tear from your cheek as you recalled the conversation that had led to the lowest point of your life.
“I asked him why everyone was telling me to talk to him. I asked him Why my wife hadn't come home.”
“Come to find out, she’d made a new one with him! While I was here, alone, worrying about you every fucking night, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me yourself.”
“Do you know how humiliating that was?”
You watched as her resolve finally cracked under the pressure, her skin was pale and you watched as she brought her shaking hands up to gesture around the room frantically.
“I came back! I'm here now!” she choked out wetly.
“Why? Why did you come back?”
You asked the question that had been on the tip of your tongue from the moment she’d unexpectedly walked through the front door.
“I just, I know how important today is to you… I know what I did Y/N, I know it looks bad. But I love you! I love you more than anything and I just thought if I came today. If I could show you tha-”
“Natasha…” Your heart was in your throat as you stopped her incessant and desperate rambling. 
“What exactly do you think today is?”
She stared at you and you watched as her confidence dwindled before speaking her next words.
“It's our anniversary…”
You laughed humorlessly and decided you’d heard enough. You entertained her excuses but you refused to stay and watch her destroy herself further. 
You stalked over to the table to pick up your coat and scarf, leaving the key in its place where you’d left it.
“The wine’s yours if you want it,” you waved your hand at the bottle that was still on the dining table.
“It was a birthday present from Tony.”
Just another day your wife had missed in her affair with the brunette scientist.
“Y/n, Just let me explain please?”
You pulled your hair through your scarf and fastened it around your neck, avoiding her outstretched hand as you made your way down the hall she’d entered just minutes before. She followed closely behind you.
“Where are you going?”
“My name is off the lease.”
You heard the choked gasp that left her lips at the revelation as you reached for the door handle.
“You're leaving me?” her voice was strained with desperation.
You almost laughed at the absurdity of her question until you heard her fervent sniffles behind you. 
You opened the door, stepping out of the house and into the crisp winter air. Watching as a plume of vapor left your lips with a heavy sigh, blossoming outwards and into the night. 
The cold bit at your cheeks, freezing your tear tracks. 
When you turned back to face her you saw the harsh tears that were rolling down her face. She was leaning on the open door like it was the only thing holding her upright.
Her expression begged you to stay, and you almost felt bad for her, but your sympathy had extended beyond its bounds a long time ago and you had none left to give. 
You shook your head and breathed deeply, shards of ice stung your throat with every inhale as you stood trying to find the next words to say.
You blinked tears out of your eyes and whispered, 
“Our anniversary was yesterday,” 
You took a moment to study the face of the woman you'd fallen so desperately in love with only a few years prior, wondering how you both had gotten to this point  then spoke your next words with gentle but faultless finality. 
“Goodbye Natasha.”
A/N: AHHHH Another fic under my belt! I have so many in the works and I can’t wait to finish and post them for you all. I got a huge spur of motivation today and knocked this one out in a few hours. Im really quite proud of it so let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments! I would be forever grateful.
thanks loves 
- E
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dewdrop-writes · 17 hours ago
Congratulations 🎊🎉 love
And I love ur stories cuz I love angst so mind doing hard angst (if u can if not is fine) I need a worship thing with alive teyvat and the archons I love them begging u can make it to whole oneshot if u want
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Thank you so much!!! I don't mind at all! We love some begging and groveling from the archons <3 I hope you like this and this was something that you envisioned - it was quite difficult to write for some reason, but I hope this is angsty enough! This was my first request so I hope I did your idea justice!! All the best to you!
Length: 2. 1 k
cw: angst, slight mention of injuries
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Begging for unattainable forgiveness
You had built up your walls with careful attention to detail. After all the pain and suffering you had unjustly been forced into, it would be hard not to. As you wept, so did your creation, unleashing it’s heavy, sorrowful tears from the grey skies above. River flooded, winds howled, mountains shook and thunder roared. All in grief for your suffering.
Venti remembered the moment he realized he had been wrong, oh so wrong - very clearly, in fact. It was a sight brandished onto his mind for all of eternity with what felt like a burning iron. His God, his Creator, staring down at the arrow embedded in their side. An arrow he had flung at them cruelly in his foolish attempt to rid the world of the imposter he had ruthlessly declared them.
You had looked at him with unshed tears in your beautiful, all-knowing eyes, betrayed and hurt by his foolish and naïve cruelty.
You ran quickly, and as Venti tried to summon the winds to carry him after your trail, he felt his control over them slip through his fingers, draining away slowly.
The ground you’d stood on glistened with a golden glow, staring at him in reprehension as his breath escaped him, leaving him weeping over his own foolishness.
Zhongli had always considered himself a reasonable man. Yes, he had been Morax, a brute and powerful god who struck down all who opposed him, but he had always had good reason. Or so he told himself, at least.
His power, his victory in the wars he’d fought, his success in building the beautiful city that was Liyue - it was all thanks to you, the only god he had ever bowed to. Your love was all he had strived for over his millennials of existence, the opportunity to make you proud, to prove he was worthy of being your acolyte. So, when the opportunity to do so via eliminating someone bold enough to deface you by wearing your face as their own - he was quick to take up the role of Morax once more, polearm in hand as he sent all under his command to hunt them down.
It wasn’t until it was much too late, that he heard of how this so-called imposter’s veins carried rivers of blood much too gold to belong to a mortal. Never in his long life had he made a mistake quite as grave as this, and he could do nothing but hang his head in shame, knowing he had failed you as Liyue was overrun with quakes that shook the earth furiously.
Ei and her sister had pursued eternity as a harmonious duo, the light and the shadow. As her beloved sister lay dying, she felt herself wavering in doubt, if even her sister could not be eternal, how could anything else be? But her sister had reassured her with a tired smile, reminding her of the Creator, the embodiment of eternity, who would now guide her in her goals to her destined path.
All she could do after her sister’s death was mourn quietly and put her fate in your hands, dependent on your distant, but all-seeing presence. You had helped her through the hardest parts of her grief, your gentle and loving presence never condemning her as she fought with the anguish inside her heart. She worshipped you with all she had, and in her plane of Euthymia she had all the time in the world to dedicate herself to her worship completely.
So, when the imposter appeared, even she stirred from her eternal meditation and showed face, her divine fury raining down on the imposter through the darting lightning that hailed down from the skies, ruthless and unwavering.
She cursed herself for her failure as the imposter escaped, only to curse herself further when her power over the lightning began to waver, crashing down on all of Inazuma in divine retribution.
Three powerful archons were now scrambling to find the god they had shunned, been too blind to recognize. The god they had harmed in their foolish attempts of defending their honor. You had vanished without a trace, leaving only a weeping and bitter Teyvat behind, who justly punished the ones who wronged its Creator with all its might.
There was nothing else to do but to band together in hopes of finding you, of groveling at your feet and begging for forgiveness. None of them dared to admit it, but they were scared. Scared of facing you alone in all their shame.
Finding you was no easy task. Teyvat itself fought tooth and nail against their attempts to track you down once more. Every time a lead managed to pop up, it was gone just as quickly, leaving behind nothing but three miserable archons fighting everything the world had sent their way.
Finally, however, they managed to get close. Yes, they were faced with hoards of monsters, ranging from the smallest and most insignificant, to the strongest Teyvat had to offer. But what was the whim of a world to three gods? Hearts heavy with guilt and fear they approached your hideout, old and forgotten ruins. It would have been easy to overlook them as just that, had it not been for the beautiful life that had taken root around it, all eager to feel your presence on them. Long gone flowers bloomed bountifully in and around the ruins, the old, crumbling walls covered in a sea of greens, speckles of colorful blooms blossoming amidst them.
Venti was the first to see you, a wide smile on his childlike face despite his best efforts. He felt your presence again, and so, he dashed closer, eager to bathe in your warmth and to forget his sins. He was hit by a dose of reality when his eyes met yours, however. For a moment, however brief, you looked scared - like a cornered animal stood facing the cruel huntsman aiming an arrow at its head.
“Your grace!” he exclaimed, sinking to his knees and presenting bountiful offers before you, looking up at you eagerly with anticipation, to gage your reaction.
You said nothing, shifting your concerned glance to the other two, who had soon caught up and followed Venti’s lead, both on their knees before you.
“We offer our sincerest apologies, your grace,” Zhongli spoke with a manufactured calmness, struggling to keep his cool before the god he had so shamelessly insulted with his actions. He laid out offerings of cor lapis, noctilucous jade and anything else of value he could think of.
Ei followed in suit, her hair hanging in front of her face as she looked up at you pleadingly, remembering how she had so cruelly attacked you.
“I know our actions are unforgivable.” she spoke barely above a whisper, regret filling her violet eyes as her gaze met yours.
You were quiet for a long, heavy moment. You fought the heavy burden of fear nestled deep within you, refusing to let them see you weak once more.
“Then why are you here?” you finally asked, managing to steady your voice just enough to get the words out.
“Your grace?” Venti asked, tears threatening to spill from the bright eyes fixated on you. You shot him a disdainful glance.
“You acknowledge that what you did to me is unforgivable,” you spoke, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself, restraining yourself from taking a step backwards, “then why are you here, begging for forgiveness that cannot be attained?”
“I- we-” Ei stuttered, at a loss for words, her usual composure long gone by now.
“You’re right, your grace,” Zhongli interrupted her stammering, bowing before you.
“Our actions are unforgivable, therefore we have no hope or expectations of achieving it. But we came to bring our apologies nonetheless,” you could hear his mature voice crack a little and all you could manage wais a scowl.
“I have no need for your pretty rocks or flowers, or- or anything you might offer.” Your voice wavered as you tried your best to keep your head up proudly. The ground beneath you shook, feeling your uncertainty, experiencing it in tandem with you.
You tried your best to ignore the crestfallen looks upon the powerful trio. Despite your best efforts, a sliver of you still cared for them.
“Your grace!” Venti wailed, throwing himself at your feet. You flinched backwards, a frightened gasp falling from your lips. Immediately, a wall of vines sprung up before you, creating a thorned barrier between you and the anemo archon as you clutched your chest, begging your heart to calm down.
“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, tears now freely flowing from his eyes as he threw any shred of pride into the wind, not caring how pathetic he may have looked. For you, he was willing to lower himself to the depths of the earth itself.
“We didn’t know it was you, your grace,” Ei finally gathered her bearings enough to form words, her own eyes watering at how frightened the one she worshipped had become in their presence. This was not how your descent upon Teyvat was supposed to go.
She, and everyone else, had occasionally dreamed of it - she had thought of things she might show you: the beauty of Inazuma, the shrines and temples she and her sister had raised in your honor. She had dreamt of telling you tales of how the two of them had worshipped you, how you had aided her in her grief. But now, you stared at her and her fellow archons with barely veiled fear and deep resentment.
“Neither did I,” you answered Ei, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears about to follow tightening in your throat.
“I was thrown into a strange world full of characters I had loved, that I’d spent so much time and effort strengthening - and you turned your backs on me!” you turned away to clasp a hand over your mouth to stifle the desperate sob forcing its way out.
The three felt the cold, suffocating weight of their own actions upon them. It was worse than any punishment you might have deemed fit. Anything would have been better than seeing their beloved Creator so fragile and heartbroken. There was no one to direct their anger towards but themselves, and the knowledge was tearing them apart inside.
“We’re ashamed of our stupidity,” the geo archon spoke, daring to rise to his feet gently. He approached slowly, wanting nothing more than to comfort you - to envelop your ethereal form in his arms and reassure you he would never allow such a thing to occur again. However, as soon as he reached out, spikes of rock emerged from the ground, stopping him.
You turned to look at him, eyes reddened but full of inconsolable fury.
“Don’t you dare try to touch me!” you spat, attempting to sound as menacing as possible despite your hoarse and broken voice.
Zhongli shrank back at your words.
“Please, your grace,” Ei whimpered, crawling towards you. “Please allow us to worship you as you should be worshipped,” she begged desperately.
“We don’t need your forgiveness, your grace,” Zhongli agreed. “But you deserve only the best. Anything you want, we can do it for you,” he hung his head, hoping to break through your barriers with his reasoning.
You said nothing, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively as you took a step away from them.
“I don’t need anything from you. Any of you.”
Venti whimpered.
“Could you at least give us a chance to worship you, to worship the ground you walk upon, your grace?” he asked with childish desperation clawing at you from his words.
“Do what you want, I don’t care.”
You turned to leave, the vines guarding you quickly stretching up to the ceiling of the ruins and effectively blocking the archons from following you.
Your hollow words left the three speechless in their anguish. There was no joy, no anger - no anything in your parting words. A part of each of them knew that no matter how they begged, pleaded or groveled, there would be no undoing what was done.
But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. They would up their worship. They would raise tributes to you, shape and reshape their nations - anything to appease you, to show you how much they truly adored you. They would be willing to do anything you asked - it was what they had been made for.
If only you would look at them, if only you wouldn’t turn them away at any chance and distance yourself from their presence in favor of mortals so undeserving of your attention.
They would pine for you for centuries to come, if they must. They would never give up, even if the task at hand was as hopeless as they had been left feeling.
They would do anything for your forgiveness, for even a slither of it.
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corrie-zodori · a day ago
What will it take to get you to draw Permafrost NEO again hes such a good ass concept and design and I lowkey wish there was more of this its just AAAAAAA
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Your wish is my command, anon :)
I'm really happy to draw him again actually, I'm really glad you like the concept!!
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that-one-lilith · 19 hours ago
Double Blessing, Double Curse (1)
Thanks to @nicebonescomrade for this title suggestion!
As you can see, this will be a whole series. Three parts for sure, after that I'll have to see if I am going to continue it.
The first part is relatively soft, but I will not stay that way. This is going to be pure angst in the future.
It's also inspired by one of @chocoenvy 's works. Not gonna say which though because that would be a spoiler for the next part. ;)
And one last thing: This is a Female Reader story!
Happy reading! <3
Word count: 2.7k (i think)
Warnings: slight bleeding, nothing more; a bit of a mental breakdown; manipulation if you read between the lines
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Teyvat was created by one God. It's a known fact.
Statues and temples have been erected in their honor and to show their ultimate respect to them. Many more secret, personal temples stayed hidden in homes, in which people prayed to themself and wished for their God to listen.
Everyone knew their God's face.
A woman so serene, so beautiful, so absolutely ethereal. Two halos crowned her head and sometimes glowed, although they were made of nothing else but marble. It was said that those little signs of life indicated that she was watching in that moment.
The Creator was loved above all, even by the Tsaritsa, who's cold heart has long forgotten what it was like to cherish. As long as the God looked upon her still, a small spark of her former self would remain.
Thus it was no surprise that, once the day came that the Creator's light vanished for months on end before a human resembling her appeared, that they proclaimed her coming all across Teyvat.
The Human Goddess was weak and didn't harbor any of the memories or powers the Creator was said to have. Yet her appearance and the outstanding warmth she exuded spoke of the divine essence she still had. It didn't matter what state she was in. She was their God and they welcomed her that way.
The poor young woman didn't understand the situation. She'd just been ripped out of her own world and found herself somewhere she thought to be a game and nothing more. The spark of euphoria in her heart didn't stop the anguish and fear. To find oneself alone and in a familiar yet strange world was no easy thing, even more so when she's being called the creator of said world. It's what the loyal, beloved acolytes didn't take into account. They had expected a Goddess that knew, that remembered.
The very moment she was left alone in a expensively decorated and furnished room in Dawn Winery was the moment the Human Goddess escaped. She didn't care about the injuries sustained from the fall out of the second floor, nor did she mind the calls of the guards posted all across the ground outside. She bolted as if her life depended on it, mind in a frenzy.
The acolytes yearned to follow, but they knew better than to scare their poor God more. They felt guilty for not having seen your fear and distrust before. Weren't they supposed to make her feel welcome and safe? How is it that they were able to disregard her palpable emotions with such ease then?
It was unanimously decided that the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius would follow their God and try and calm her down. Albedo was known as one of her favored vessels, often being guided across the various lands, her heavenly light surrounding him.
It irked the Archons that it was not them she had taken as vessels as much as him. They were far better than that fake of a human would ever be, much stronger, too. And they had served the Creator for much longer. In spite of their resentment and jealousy, they stood back and waited for the alchemist to return.
Albedo didn't take long to fulfill his word of doing it fast. The Human Goddess was slow and left behind clear signs of trespassing in the areas she went through. He caught up to her and came to a halt a few meters in front even, forcing her to stop unless she wished to collide with him.
Her wide, teary eyes gazed at him and she shook her head, backing up several steps. "Please, let me go. You've got it all wrong, I'm not your God. I beg you, please-"
He held up a hand, the movement ceased her begging. "Don't be afraid, Your Grace. We just want to help you and protect you. Why don't you come back with me? We'll talk back in Dawn Winery and explain the situation to you better."
He spoke softly and full of raw admiration. His body felt warm underneath her gaze. The same warth that had surrounded him as her vessel. That was all he needed to feel to confirm the undeniable truth.
Still - his God took another step back, only to trip over a branch on the ground. The fall was harsh and her hands, which she'd thrust out in order to catch her body, burnt. Tears now fell freely, running down her pale cheeks. She sobbed. "You've got it all wrong, I'm human, I'm not a god!"
Albedo was quick to rush to her side, kneeling down by her side. He clicked his tongue in dismay as he picked up her hands to inspect the possible wounds she'd attained. She flinched and tried to pull her hand back, but his strong grip stopped her. "Your Grace, you must be careful. You..."
His voice trailed off, voice dying in his throat. She watched as he pulled her hand closer, inspecting the palm and the blood she felt running out of the scrapes.
"Your...your blood." The alchemist sounded amazed and awed. "It's..."
He had no words.
In legends and stories of old, authors often spoke about the differences between the Creator and the humans that had been created in their like. One spoke of them having golden ichor run through their veins. Another spun the tale of tears holding the universe. A third said they were taller than this world, arms capable of hugging their creation to their chest.
It seemed as if all of those were just myths, or maybe their human body was different from their god one.
The blood that started to pool on her open palm was red, albeit darker than that of a true human. Golden swirls mixed into it, moving around even when the blood didn't not, and small stars faded in and out of existence all over it.
"Look", he spoke softly, his fingers caressing her wrist. He felt her pulse beating fast, the heartbeat a sound so oddly familiar to him. "Your blood proves that you're our Creator."
The Human Goddess stared at her own blood in confusion. "But...but I remember bleeding red. Real red. Not this", she whispered.
Albedo took out a roll of bandages he always carried around in case of failed experiments and started to wrap her hands up. He took note that he had to clean it later, make sure to disinfect it. It wouldn't do good for his God to get sick. The tips of his fingers graced her soft skin occasionally and her breath hitched. She did not stop staring at her hand, even as the wounds were covered up.
"A goddess...", she repeated to herself, the word feeling weird in her mouth. Her, a goddess? She was human, she had to be. She remembered her world, her family, the red blood she bled.
Then how was this possible?
Albedo left her to her thoughts, intertwining his fingers with hers. A shiver ran down his spine and if he had any blood running through his veins, he was sure he'd be blushing right now. His palms fit perfectly against hers. Perhaps this was why Gold had made him. To be with their God and help them in this time of confusion and need; and not to find the limits of alchemy as she'd told him all those years ago.
A homunculus whose sole purpose it was to serve their Creator.
"Your Grace", he cooed, searching her face in case she was tempted to dart off again. He tightened his hold on her a bit, hoping his touch reassured her. "The others worry for you. We should go back."
The Human Goddess looked away from her hands at last and into his azur eyes. The reverent smile on his face was different compared to the stoic expression his in-game model had held most of the time.
But this wasn't just a game anymore, was it?
The pain she felt, the ache in her limbs from falling to the ground, it was all too real.
If she went with him, she'd be safe. He was strong, capable of protecting her, and maybe he could even help her get back to her own world.
Would he even help her leave Teyvat behind?
They called her a God, the Creator of this wonderful world she'd come to cherish despite it being a work of fiction. It was clear that they wished to have her close. If it was in hopes of gaining favor or just basking in a godly presence, she did not know.
She didn't even know if she wanted to know the answer to this question.
Albedo saw the moment she shut herself off and he panicked on the inside. She had to come back willingly as he didn't want to knock her out, but if the progress kept going this way, he'd have no other choice.
He held onto her even as she tried to wiggle her hands out of his grip. He pulled the Human Goddess close until her head bumped lightly against his shoulder. Letting go of her hands, he was quick to wrap his arms around her in a what he hoped was a comforting embrace.
She sobbed again, fighting against his hold on her, but he didn't budge. Instead he placed a hand on the back of her head and buried her face in the crook of his head, right where the star decorated his skin.
"It must be so hard, not remembering anything." Albedo looked into the distance, all too aware of the seething people watching him from the shadows. "We just want to help you and appreciate you. I promise by my life. If it helps you, I'll stay by your side all the time unless you request otherwise. I'm yours to command."
The Human Goddess shook her head. Words failed her and she just cried, shedding the tears she'd held in ever since coming here a week ago.
Alone and separated, half of her soul missing.
What he offered was what she'd wanted this whole time. A warm place to sleep, care, comfort. Someone to confide in.
She reluctantly accepted, lips moving against his skin as she muttered. Albedo hummed, eyes sparkling in satisfaction. Together they went back to Dawn Winery, Albedo happy and the Human Goddess tired to the bones. Halfway to the manor, he picked her up and carried her on his back, her head lolling and nuzzling back into his neck.
The acolytes were happy to see her back safe. Some disliked the fact she got hurt, although even they were happy to hear that they hadn't been wrong, her starry blood proving her godhood.
Once the Human Goddess got proper rest, she was sat down on an armchair, the Archons standing in front of her in a semi-circle. They all vowed to serve her until she ascended back into her heavenly plane, ignoring her requests to just treat her like another human being.
Only the Cry Archon didn't come, opting to send an envoy in the form of a Harbinger instead.
Albedo stayed true to his words the whole time. He only left her side in the bathroom or at night as she slept, opting to either wait outside her room or in Diluc's study. He lacked any motivation to continue his alchemical experiments and even as he tried to read a book, his mind always wandered back to her.
The Archons made her have hearings, during which she'd be forced to listen to people's worries and fears, and hopes and dreams. Her helplessness was clear and at first one or the other whispered the right words to say into her ear until she got the hang of what they wanted to hear. She didn't know it, wouldn't believe it if she ever found it, but sometimes her words came true.
A farmer crying to her for help after rain destroyed his most recent harvest was said to have grown new plants in less than a week after his visit to the Human Goddess.
An infertile woman begging for a child had a healthy baby growing in her belly two months later.
Little miracles, but miracles nonetheless.
The hearings and forced conversations with the ever greedy Archons drained her.
At night, before she went to bed, she'd sit beside Albedo on a couch, pressing close to him and hiding her face in his side. The alchemist enjoyed these peaceful moments the most, treasuring them and drawing them later as a means to remember them far into the future.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long.
The Archons were jealous. They didn't like that their God clung to one person so much. Weren't they made just as their Creator wanted them to be? Why didn't she spend time with them? He was a low homunculus, lesser than a human. He had no right to bask in her presence this much.
They started to pester the Human Goddess about meeting up with some of her acolytes to spend some time outside the house. Albedo was a busy man, for sure he'd appreciate the reprieve of going back to Dragonspine and continue his research.
What about Chongyun? The poor exorcist had been hoping to have her accompany him on one of his missions.
Or maybe Klee? The little girl would love to go fish-bombing with her.
Perhaps she'd prefer someone like Thoma? He could take her to festivals, watch Yoimiya's firework shows.
The constant nagging wore her down. The pressure was too much for her and she caved in, on one condition.
"Of course, Your Grace! Whatever you want." Venti grinned at her.
The Human Goddess worried on her bottom lip. "I'd like to meet the Traveller."
All these weeks she's spent holed up in Dawn Winery, she never once saw them. She didn't even know who was where in this world. Though she understood. The Traveller Siblings came from a different world, they would have no reason to bow to her feet as the whole of Teyvat did. Passerbys, that's all they were.
Her reasons to meet up with the good sibling were different though. Something that she hadn't even told Albedo. She'd been careful about what she said to the alchemist. He may do his best to keep the Archons at bay half of the time, but he was still an acolyte. The moment she'd talk about wanting to go back home was the moment all hell would break lose. She saw it in their eyes, in their devotion.
A day after her request, Lumine stood in the Winery's salon, Paimon floating by her side and complaining about being hungry. Both didn't understand why they'd been called.
She had heard the stories of a so-called Creator descending to Teyvat as a human, of course. It was impossible not to. People were happy and even the monsters and animals responfed to their presence.
But she was still an outlander, not from this world.
It didn't seem to matter to the Human Goddess. The moment she spied Lumine from atop the stairs, she raced down the steps, ignoring the concerned voices of her acolytes telling her to be careful. She flung her arms around the Traveller and shocked the ones in the room into silence. Lumine's arms automatically came up to catch her, too stunned to speak at the familiarity she was greeted with.
Only to grow sad upon hearing the words whispered fast and quiet into her ears. She hugged the Human Goddess tight, the two sharing each other's pain in silence.
If the Archons had thought her connection to Albedo was bad, this certainly was even worse.
Lumine and the Human Goddess were inseparable, always whispering in each other's ears about things noone else was allowed to hear. They tried to bully the Traveller into telling them what their God was speaking of, but that only caused Lumine to glare and stomp off, disgusted by their blatant disrespect for her privacy.
Not even Albedo, who returned from Dragonspine a week after his departure, managed to get her to tell him the things she told Lumine. It hurt. He was replaced and couldn't do anything about it. The few times they spent alone were not enough to ease the ache in his heart.
It was all the Archons' fault. Had they never pressured the Human Goddess, she'd be holding onto him still, finding comfort in his presence, not Lumine's. Yes, it really wasn't her fault.
Days turned into weeks and soon, the Human Goddess grew easier to be around. She'd spent time with more people, even if she came back to Lumine at the end of the day. She visited the various nations and greeted the people, always listening to their problems and pleas.
Teyvat's nature wanted to bloom in response to their Creator's happiness.
Yet something was missing and it found itself impossible of showing their God's state.
Three months after the Human Goddess's arrival, news of a human male resembling their beloved Creator reached their ears.
The Archons rallied hunting parties, angered by the thought of someone daring to impersonate the Human Goddess now that she was finally here. And a man no less!
They made sure to not let her hear the news, thinking it better to leave her in innocent bliss.
Which would prove to be their downfall.
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eviewritesfics04 · a day ago
Come Back to Us
Summary: You had stayed with Makkari and Druig after the team split up, having been in a relationship with them. For years, the three of you lived in the Amazon together, but when their love slowly started to fade away, you left. What happens when 60 years later they find you with someone new? 
Inspired by @lovegoods-things
Pairing: Drukkari x Reader 
TW// angsty, language, my shitty writing skills 
A/N: use of she/her pronouns is in here and reader is also called “pretty girl” so do with that what you will... also pls don’t slander my shitty writing i’m honestly just bored and this helps me not maladaptive daydream as bad.... 
   It had been decades since you’d seen your ex-lovers. Six decades to be exact.
   The love you had held for them was large. Beautiful, beautiful people, they were. Druig, the handsome man with bright blue eyes and dark, messy hair. Makkari, your beautiful speedster. They were yours.
   Key word being were. They aren’t yours anymore. You had left them when your relationship began to crumble, at least on your end. It was hard to forget the memories of them spending time without you, excluding you from date nights. It was especially hard to forget the way that there wasn’t much love in their eyes near the end.
   When the time had come that you’d excepted they weren’t yours any longer, that they only belonged to each other, you had left. It hurt, leaving behind everything you had known. You couldn’t stand around and watch Druig and Makkari fall out of love with you.
   It was in the 1960s you had left. The small Amazonian camp was hard to find your way away from, but you had managed just fine. Over the decades, you had found your way to the wonderful New York, New York. There, you took place as an author, writing fiction that took place during real events, which wasn’t quite fiction. It was recounts of your life, of every century you had spent here on Earth. You recounted all of the battles you had with your family. You told the story of how you fell in love with the mind controller and the speedster, and you told the story of your heartbreak once you had realized they were pulling away. 
   It was your way of working through things, and of documenting them in case you ever began to forget. You told the stories of your family, the good and the bad. You wrote about Sprite and the shows she would put on, Ikarus and the love he and Sersi had, Ajak and her motherly attitude, Phastos and his amazing creations, Gilgamesh and the strength he had, Makkari and how kind-hearted she was, Druig and how he desperately wanted to help humanity, Thena and how she was the strongest warrior you knew, Kingo and his jokes, you even wrote about yourself. It had taken years to write them all, but you found some good through reliving the painful memories. 
   It’s how you found Charles. He was a historian who had read one of your books, fascinated by the stories you told. It hadn’t taken long for the two of you to form a bond, and soon after he had asked if you would go on a date with him. It hadn’t taken you a second to respond, a happy “yes” ringing through the air. 
   And now, now you were in a happy relationship with him. You had shown him your powers, wanting to be transparent with him, and he had fully accepted you, immortal and all. 
   It was now that the two of you sat at a coffee-shop table near the window chatting, having small lunch date before he had to return for work. 
   “You look beautiful today,” he tells you as he sips on his coffee.
   You could feel heat rising to your face at his compliment, ducking your head down to try to hide your blush from him. “Thanks,” you say softly. “You look nice, too.” 
   “Come on now, (Y/N), don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” 
   The comment makes you thump your head on the table, soft giggles that are produced by you begin to float through the air, drawing attention of a few around you. 
   It’s only when a shadow looms over you that you lift your head, the smile immediately falling from your face. In front of your table stand Druig and Makkari, looking just as youthful as before. 
   “We’ve been looking for you,” Druig says. 
   Charles sees the sadness in your eyes, deciding that the both of you should leave. “Let’s go rent that movie while we’re out, how about it, (Y/N)?” 
   He begins to stand but is stopped as his eyes turn a shade of shimmering gold, matching Druig’s.
   “Sit down.” The command ripples through him as he takes his seat and Druig turns towards you. 
   It isn’t him that speaks next though, it’s Makkari. “We miss you. Come back to us.”   
  You shake your head, fighting to make sure no tears slip from your eyes down your cheeks. “No.” 
   “No?” There’s slight hurt in Druig’s voice at his question, like he actually cared about you. 
   “No. I’m never, ever going back to that stupid commune in the Amazon. Ever. And I’m never coming back to you.” 
   Pure hurt flashes across Makkari’s face as she flinches back a little, like she’d been hit. “Why? Why did you leave us? You just up and left, and now we’ve finally found you and you won’t come home?” 
   “I just up and left?” You scoff. “No, I stayed for as long as I fucking could. I watched the both of you fall out of love with me, I watched you pull away, I watched for as long as I could and when I realized it was never going to get better I gave up and I left. I couldn’t stand the shit you were putting me through, and I won’t ever do that again.” 
   Druig and Makkari just stare at you in shock of all you’ve said.
   “We didn’t pull away. You just up and left, darling,” Druig says softly.
   “Really?” you say, verging on a yell. “Is that really how you remember it? Fuck it. Look inside my head, Druig. Look at the memories of what the two of you put me through.”
   He’s hesitant as he stares at you. Your outburst had surprised both of them into silence, and now Druig looks at you with a conflicted look on his face.
     “Are you sure?” he asks slowly.
   He just nods before his eyes glow their golden hue. For a minute your mind is blank, but then it all comes rushing forward and flashing before you.
   There’s soft laughing from the other room as you sit on the bed alone. Druig’s laugh is soft and full of love as he spends time with Makkari.
   You couldn’t help but be curious as you got up as quietly as possible and peeked into the other room.
   “I love you more than anything or anyone. My beautiful, beautiful Makkari,” he signs to her.
   “And same to you, Druig,” she signs back.
   Druig and Makkari cuddle up together before Makkari signs, “you’re my one and only.”
   You can’t stand to see what he says next as you pull away from the door, immediately deciding that watching them together was the last straw, you had to leave.
   You come back to reality, seeing Druig’s eyes fade. His eyes glaze over with tears, but he quickly blinks them away before his eyes lock with yours.
   “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. We didn’t know.”
   “It doesn’t matter whether you knew or not, it happened. I’m happy now. I’m happy here with Charles. The both of you need to leave.”
   “Please, we’ll do anything.”
   You shake your head. “No. Just go. Please.”
   “But we love you.” Tears brim her beautiful eyes as she shakes her head as if trying to shake away a bad dream.
   “If you love me, go. Just go. Please.”
   “Please, just give us another chance,” Druig begs.
   “I can’t. Please, please just go.”
   It doesn’t take anymore begging for the two to turn and leave you. Your eyes trail after both of them, longing to follow them and tell them you change your mind, but you don’t.
   “Who were they?” Charles asks you.
   “Old friends of mine. Don’t worry about it.”
   “Ah, I thought they were lovers. I was thinking of saying ‘get away from her she doesn’t want you here’,” he chuckles.
   You give a fake chuckle along with him. It’s painful to watch the people you still love leave, even if you were the one who caused it.
163 notes · View notes
aidemint · a day ago
Sundays Nights Are For Dreamers | Viktor
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word count: 4.7k+
pairing: Viktor/Reader, Viktor x Reader
warnings: sick Viktor :(
notes: arcane has me in a chokehold rn also!!! sorry for not posing in so long ToT hope you enjoy though :) this is also cross-posted on AO3!
for my friend @crsjunkyard​ ! welcome to tumblr :)
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It’s still dark outside when you wake up.
A midnight background drapes across the sky of Piltover, thick, ceaseless shadows consuming the atmosphere and suffocating the breeze—a still, unfamiliar evening.
Stars outside shine through half-open curtains, silvery light spilling through the divide and onto the floor, pooling in blurred patterns on the carpet. Mercury, you think, or perhaps a more conventional sterling silver. An acknowledging hum comes from your throat, breaking in the middle, early morning spells draining life from the velvety tone.
Minutes pass, the scene holding nothing but lackluster existence, until you deem the time fit enough to try to rise. As far as you're concerned, it should be an easy process.
But when you blink away the bleariness in your eyes and awaken enough to form coherent thoughts, you realize that the conditions you went to sleep under unfortunately serve as the setting you wake up in. You’re alone, cold, body only half-covered by the wool blanket you’d bought for nights like these (a night in which, perhaps, it would be best to share with a loved one).
Disappointment is quick to replace ample content.
He’s still alone, working, wearing himself down.
The absence of Viktor leaves your mind wandering and your heart longing—a certain sense of grief that overtakes your senses as you drift away to think of him.
It’s torture to picture him still sat at his desk in the laboratory, pulling plugs and examining fissures, focused on the one thing that’s kept him captivated for so long. You didn’t blame him. The look of it was a piece of work in itself—deep purple with a seemingly infinite combination of ancient ruins, strong light in the center illuminating the ornate patterns with a kind of majesty unfound in both Piltover and Zaun—forget what purpose it served.
But he’s killing himself.
You bite your tongue at the thought, wincing yet still acknowledging the truth within the statement. He is, with every day that passes, every test gone wrong, every loss and unbearable suffering.
Well, then again, you doubt that metal is so easily destroyable with the passage of time (or, at the very least, you hope—what would you do without it).
Faith keeps the thought at bay for a little while, softened silk waves running across a plane of darkness, bending every hardened corner of shadow into familiar comfort. But after a while, when your subconscious abandons its dormant state, you begin to see it in the motions of the night.
A crimson handkerchief, toppled chair spilling fibrous cotton onto the floor, research papers a blur, chaotically scattered and drifting across the ground with every radioactive pulse of the lavender Hexcore. Electrifyingly, your view pans to grey fingers, cold and unmoving, bloodied with cracked fingernails and freckles on the backs of the digits.
Your vision slides up, up, up, up, up to a shoulder—slim, rounded, familiar—to a neck—thin and shriveled and red —then to—
You smash a hand against your forehead, cutting the reel short through brute force and you groan. Continuously, you knock tightened fists against your skull in desperation, fear, every emotion that spurs your blindness you hit yourself with. Despite the pounding ache building in your head, you remain, praying that this nightmare might stay away, pass, leave and grant you mercy for this one night.
It reduces your serene state to a blankness, almost emptiness as you simply stare at the wall with no direction to go, effort directed towards suppressing the fear creeping up your throat.
A creak suddenly hauls you, blinking rapidly, into the present. It's the bedroom door swinging wide for uneven steps; it quietly sheds its solitude as it approaches and fills into the reedy, gentle silhouette you know and love.
Hope. There it is again.
It blooms in your heart and you untense at the warmth, finding that the shadows no longer seem haunting—just peace and quiet in darkness.
You find the strength to stop your struggling and pretend to be asleep when he quietly slips underneath the sheets with you, careful not to disrupt your falsified bliss. A smile curls the edges of your lips upon witnessing his delicacy.
You’re used to the feel of his legs tangled with yours, the gentleness of one arm or two splayed across your body when the two of you sleep together, but there are always moments when he gets close—near enough to feel your heartbeat against his own—and you feel like falling for him all over again.
His lips brush across your cheekbone, and that’s enough to make you gasp (how long have you two been together, yet you still act like a child who’s met love for the first time). He draws back upon hearing the breath, cautiously peering at you for signs of conscious life. You stir, to his slight discontentment, but he sets his hands on your waist to welcome you into reality, his mouth pressed on the tip of your shoulder.
“Виктор?” you call, the echo of your voice muted by the walls of your bedroom, “Are you alright?” He responds with a “mhm” before proceeding.
“I’m fine, my love,” he says slowly, chest rumbling as he speaks against your skin, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. I was already awake.”
“Waiting for me?” Guilt is woven in thick threads through his voice, to which you sigh. “I hope you weren’t staying up too late.”
“I think I should be the one concerned for you,” you whisper, finding his hand underneath the blanket and giving it a squeeze, “At the rate you’re working you’ll—”
Your chiding splinters off into jagged fragments of concern wearing away at the air when Viktor starts to convulse, coughs, expressions too big for his body, wracking his frame, fate’s cruel hand violently shearing away the inside of his lungs. The stilted half-gasping, half-choked wheezing that pushes its way into your ears doesn’t listen to Viktor’s strangled plea for it to remain a crimson secret spat into the last-minute, soiled tissue he has by his side.
You close your eyes, heart twisting with each retch that you know wrings his body bone-dry. His frame shudders behind you—fully, completely—and you can do nothing but witness the scene unveil with bated breath.
Wincing as he pushes off of you to curl into a fetal position, meek, afraid, you wait, reassuring yourself that the nightmare would be over soon. Saliva pools in your mouth when he gags, biting back a strangled cough—you feel weak, but swallow the rising bile in your throat.
Whenever his jaw unhinges it sounds like death.
It’s different from the calls of crows near your childhood home, the wailing of victims in the mean streets of the undercity, the screams of the unfortunate (but wasn’t that just everyone in the underworld).
The sound that comes from Viktor is whole, unbroken, unrelenting—the noise of Piltover, but reminiscent of Zaun. He produces shallow coughs, mostly, but the moment he breathes deeply and lets go, you feel like you’ve been run over by a freight train.
It reverberates in your chest, rings in your ears, shouts at you from all directions—even some you didn’t know were present.
It’s supposed to be muddled, it’s supposed to sound weak, wet, pathetic, like a puddle against a boot or some cold shower.
But it doesn’t.
Do you contemplate death, he once asked you, What does it feel like?
And that scares you.
When Viktor finishes, discarding the bloodied napkin with a simple toss to your nightstand, he returns to his place behind you. Melting into him again is surprisingly easier than expected.
Your waist, you think, felt oddly bare without his hands loving it.
“Do you need me to get a towel?” There’s no judgement in your voice—only a slight, concerned lilt when considering the amount of blood laying within the crumpled tissue only a few feet away. You feel him smile against your skin.
“No, but thank you.” A pause filled with uncertainty follows, but you’re quick to catch on, making sure that it doesn’t last for long—too long.
“Okay,” you reply simply, turning over to face him, “Then let’s hope that I don’t taste blood.”
You both could use a distraction right about now.
Viktor’s cheeks flush a light pink when you kiss him, slipping your hand to cup his face, palm resting on his jaw. His cheeks are warm, undeniably rose-colored and perhaps the same hue as the shells of his ears (maybe even darker than that).
A tingle shoots through your core when he presses back, eyes fluttering shut and arm wrapped around your waist, pads of his fingers pushing on the small of your back. Your fingers curl and you begin to grow breathless as he starts to explore, hands slowly traversing the entirety of your torso.
You tug on his hair, tufts of chocolate locks clenched in between greedy fists, and he groans, giving the edges of your lips one last kiss before moving down.
“Viktor—” you whine, guiding his head to the base of your neck, “Vik— Mmnh—” His hands brush the sides of your arms and you feel like you might explode, oh how sensitive you are.
“Do you want to stop, маленький котенок?”
“I don’t but—” You take a sharp breath when a sudden sense of responsibility crashes into you headfirst as he laps at your collarbone. “You have to sleep.”
“I can’t, not now, солнышко,” he murmurs.
“Why?” The question comes out as a gasp as Viktor snakes a slender hand down your side, cold fingers dancing along the warmth of your bodice. “Viktor, you have to— sleep—!”
He doesn’t give a response, only sucking harder on your skin, busying himself with something as an excuse to ignore your question. You’re quick to fade back into bliss again, clasping a hand over your mouth to stifle a sudden gasp when he tightly grips your hip.
“Блядь!” He finishes when you cry out, strings of saliva connecting the bruise on your collarbone to his thin lips. Staring vacantly at the mark for a second, he bites the inside of his cheek then buries his face in the crook of your neck, seemingly seeking comfort. You promptly cradle his head, patting his back as you calm down from your high.
“Is something bothering you, Vik?” you ask after minutes pass. It’s a stupid question, but you know that he won’t admit the issue unless asked. He keeps silent regardless, and you sigh.
You want to examine more, peer into that bright mind of his and fish out the turmoil that plagues its waters. It’s a bitingly cold sensation, the realization—perhaps he thought that he should have to endure it alone—that sends chills down your spine, goosebumps rising from the neck down.
However, you give him time to admit his own truth, and he eventually comes around.
“I'm afraid so,” is what he says with hesitancy in his voice, timid and unletting, “But I’ve just been thinking, that is all. Thinking a lot about many things.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” It’s a gentle prod, nothing too forceful, lest you wish to scare him away.
“I… don’t,” he confesses, “But I think that if I let problems fester, they’ll become something even worse.”
“We’ll take it slow,” you say, rubbing your hand against his forearm, “Sit up and do it face-to-face. Turn on the light so we can see each other. How ‘bout it?” You feel him nod and you help yourself up before assisting him, only needing a soft tug to lift half of him up.
He starts to cough the moment he’s upright, hacking blood into his elbow as you hold him steady, trying to remain calm when he doubles over with both arms seemingly bound to his chest. His shoulders come up and his spine curves into a wishbone, torso crumpled in on itself as if to break himself in (the larger piece connected to the split he would take, then somehow things would be alright again). He fumbles for his tissue, choking into the red-stained white.
Viktor speaks in haggard gasps, drunken wheezes, and torment—he says don’t worry, everything will be fine, have faith.
By God, by anyone that’s out there, do you have faith.
“I’ll turn the light on.” It’s all you say—it’s all you can say.
You just wonder if it’s ever enough.
Viktor stops convulsing a few minutes later and you pat his back, relieved. You don’t speak until he wipes his fingers and mouth clean with a fresh tissue.
“If you need to cough on the bed, it’s ok. I can clean the blanket in the morning.” He hums in gratitude, spitting the last of the blood into the napkin with a grimace.
“Thank you, солнышко.” You smile and kiss his cheek before leaning over him to turn on the light.
With a flick of the wrist and a downwards pull, a soft, yellow-orange hue floods the room, a stark contrast to the blackness you’ve been living in for the past few hours. It takes a few blinks to get adjusted to the brightness, but you quickly recover, retreating back to your position beside Viktor and turning to get a good look at him.
Butterflies begin to flutter at the bottom of your stomach once you do as you realize that you really don’t see him as often as you should be.
His eyelashes are short, subtle, but defined with the dark coloration of his hair and warm light shining from his left. Your vision runs all over his face—to his defined cheekbones, thick brows, thin lips, slender jaw, and the two beauty marks in his most kissable places.
And those eyes.
God , and those eyes.
Honeyed amber with sharpened edges—a dark, defining brown encasing an inescapable pool of liquid gold. A solar eclipse on a clear night, pupils eclipsing a forever-burning star, rays of Midas peeking out from underneath the humble black dot. His eyes are bright, expressive, everything that you could get lost in and more.
The way he looks at you is enough to take your breath away—so much adoration in the deepest of amber eyes, how they glow in the dim lamplight. Amongst the curiosity, passion, fear, awareness, there lies love.
Hope, even.
“Солнышко? Солнышко, are you alright?”
The sound of his voice breaks you out of your own head and you stare at him with a surprised look about your features. He tilts his head and purses his lips as he picks apart your expression.
“Is something odd?” he asks carefully, raising an eyebrow, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah! Uh—” You swallow a mouthful of saliva, chuckling nervously at the sudden speed the butterflies in your stomach have taken off at. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He stays still for a moment, looking at you and nothing else. You can take it, staring into his irises and listening to your inner voice scream at you for a variety of Viktor-related reasons. It made you feel like you were still attending the academy, a naive graduate student that never learned the basis of love under the prioritization of science, but you could handle that feeling (for you’ve known it all too well).
But of course, what comes after doesn’t help your poor heart all that much either.
“I always forget how beautiful you are in this light.” You feel a heat creep up your face and you laugh, swatting playfully at his shoulder. He grins, still gazing at the joy in your expression: the crinkle of your undereyes, your wide smile, the way you furrow your brows and squeeze your eyes shut—everything.
In the midst of it all, your ample delight and his usual charm, it didn’t feel like he was stalling. It felt like real love, the moments shared during bleak hours such as these in the middle of some worn night.
But you notice fear flash across his features when you calm down, subtly lingering in the form of a downturned mouth and furrowed brows; you notice the way he darts his eyes away from you and bites back a protest with a clench of his jaw; you notice his index finger rub the top of his thumb nail, flicking the digit like a mousetrap in his lap—a habit of worry.
You never, in the present, question his genuity, but you notice, and slip your hand into his.
“Do you want to tell me what’s been bothering you?”
The question cuts through the air like a knife to hot butter and Viktor flinches, averting his gaze and tensing his shoulders. His palm almost leaves yours, but you just hold him tighter in response.
“You can take your time, mилый. I’m not here to hurt you.” His reply is immediate, distressed, disturbed; he looks at you in a panic.
“That’s not what I’m—” The brunette stifles a cough in the middle of his objection, pushing a closed fist to the front of his mouth and wincing at the dryness in his throat. “I’m worried— about.”
“Then what are you worried about?”  You’re gentle, patient, kind—with relaxed eyes and a hopeful grip around him, willingly curled around his heart, promising to never let go. He likes seeing you like this, with a small smile on your lips and a look of understanding you’ve never failed to give him, but he’s scared.
I’m worried about you, he wants to say, If your light fades when I tell you. Now that I see your face, I’m not sure if I can make the sacrifice.
“My condition is worsening.” Viktor screws his eyes shut, silently cursing at himself when he feels your grip around his hand loosen, but he continues weakly. “The doctor gave me the diagnosis after I collapsed—”
A lump forms in his throat when you fully pull your hand out of his grip.
“Hold on, what?” Disbelief floods your features and you can feel your heartbeat quicken while your limbs freeze up. “Viktor, you collapsed? Wha— J— Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I was worried that—” he starts, finding it hard to string words together underneath the pressure, “That you would worry.”
“But— Oh God— But I would worry regardless, Viktor!” Incredulity bubbles in your core and you’re not sure if you can take much more of the feeling. “You— Oh my God… Why didn’t you tell me earlier? ”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Why? Why did you even have to think? Weighing consequences against each other—this is madness, Viktor, don’t you understand?” The brunette curls his lip in a look of disdain.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I am a scientist, just as you are. How could I not—”
“Because I have a solution,” he snaps, tone unnaturally sharp. You go silent for a moment, puzzled.
“I thought that Hextech wasn’t refined enough to be used to alter mankind,” you say after you’ve thought the possibilities through. "Heimerdinger said it would take—" Viktor grimaces and your shoulders slump at the expression.
“It’s not…” He speaks with hesitancy, a meekness about his stature—reducing the inventor to no more than a little boy in the dim light. “It’s not Hextech.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s foreign.” You frown, exasperated.
“I asked you what it was, not where it was from.”
Viktor doesn’t say anything this time—though his mouth moves, the words are lodged in his throat, scraping the insides of his lumen. You sigh at the sight, a sensation of guilt creeping up your spine. It’s uncomfortable—makes you squeamish—and electrifyingly powerful when paired with the tenderness of your heart.
Softening your gaze and clasping his hand in both of yours, you lower your voice to speak.
“May I see it?” you ask quietly, “Your… unnamed solution.” You manage a chuckle, but Viktor has yet to break out of his stony expression. He takes one look at you, your hands and features, then changes directions, turning his head away to keep you in only the corner of his view.
Despite the unmaintained eye contact, there's something about his irises that scream the question “will you still love me” directly at you.
His midsummer eyes grow more despondent with every passing minute, clementine thread weaving oscillations through the dull roundness, unassisted by the lamplight that sits at his side. You squeeze his hand three times for assurance, then wait with bated breath as he continues to blankly stare at the bedsheets.
After what seems like an eon of silence, Viktor swallows, then opens his mouth to speak.
“It’s called Shimmer.” He reaches for his cane and opens up a secret compartment with the press of a button. From out of the hollowed inside, he takes out a small vial of iridescent, liquid glitter, then returns to his place on the bed.
When he hands you the violet beaker, your brows furrow, eyes transfixed on the way it… shimmers (hence the name, you guess).
Patterns of gentle purple mix in with an almost chaotic darkness, swirling inside the vial. Its aura has something sinister about it, you’re sure—a certain corruption radiating from the potion, only thin glass and a cork keeping it from spilling out and running rampant.
“What does it do?” you mumble, still observing the substance, “Are you supposed to ingest it?”
“It will help.”
You don’t like how certain he sounds. It’s worrying—and scary, so you can only pray that he leaves it at that.
“But—” Your nerves freeze over at the conjunction, a little voice screaming bloody murder at the back of your head. “—it has its dangers.”
What is science without the presence of risk?
“What dangers?” Viktor makes a face, considering his options in what to say.
The preservation of the study itself requires academics to throw many cautions to the wind.
“I don’t know what will become of my humanity if I pursue this path.”
So what yield can a divergence bring?
“Are you sure about this?”
Nothing. The answer is nothing.
“More than I’ve ever been for anything.”
Somehow, you believe him despite it all. His sincerity pushes past the fear, disappointment, misery, even hope at the forefronts of your mind and simply stays—stays and waits for a reaction to drive it away.
“Oh.” You blink away a few blurry spots in your vision. “Alright.”
You feel unlike yourself—uncomfortable and uneasy with the current circumstances laid out in front of you. Perhaps you don't know how to react, or you simply don't want to. Part of you wants to shut it out and hope for the best, part of you wants to take it in and make it better.
It’s only when you look back at your reflection in the vial of Shimmer do you realize that you’ve begun to cry. You try to suppress the feeling that washes over you when you see your stressed features in the murky violet, but it inevitably comes—a strong ocean’s wave sweeping over a polyp of coral. Emotion swells in your chest and you find that the tide gets stronger with every passing minute.
Resist, resist, resist , your soul chants, You should understand. You should understand.
But no matter how hard you try, you can’t.
You can only sit there with your shaking shoulders, trembling limbs, and quivering bottom lip when you finally let go, hot streams of crystal misery rapidly descending the sides of your face and shattering against the bedsheets when they drip down from your chin. Drawing your legs closer to you, you hug them to your chest for some sort of comfort, something to latch onto.
“I’m sorry— I’m sorry Viktor but I'm afraid— I’m afraid that—” You bite your lip as tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, falling into your lap. “Maybe one day I'll find you in your lab and— You're just gonna be— You won't be— Again— I— I'm sorry, Vik, I just— Oh God, this is just so much to process.”
“I know.” He says it like it’s something so simple, so easily understood. And perhaps to him, a man who thinks too much, it may as well have been. “I know, солнышко.”
“Viktor, what if it doesn’t work and you die? I don’t know what I’ll do.” You bury your face in your hands and take a deep, shuddering breath. “ Любимый, что с тобой будет? I'm not ready to— to lose you yet, Viktor. It's so selfish of me but please just stay a little longer .”
By now, you’ve begun to spiral.
“Что я буду делать? О боже, что будет? Иногда мне кажется, что я настолько глуп из-за того, что так много волнуюсь… Я просто хочу, чтобы с тобой все было в порядке, Виктор.” Viktor can only watch on as you weep, taking in every expression of desolation with furrowed brows and a conflicted gaze. “Не думаю, что когда-либо любил кого-то так сильно, как люблю тебя. Мне страшно, Виктор.”
You whimper when you feel his arms come around you, engulfing your figure in a tight embrace that you return gratefully.
“I’m sorry, солнышко.” His fingers curl around your shoulder, bringing you closer. “But love and legacy are the sacrifices we make for progress. I understand if you choose to despise me.” You sniff, wiping away a few stray tears with the back of your hand before replying.
“I don’t despise you, Viktor. Even if I don’t know what the future will hold,” you stress, feeling the tension seep out of him at your words, “I’m just… I’m just worried for you.
“I'm not asking you to stop. I'm not asking you to quit for me because I know how much this means to you. I just want you to be safe. Safe and happy and— And mine. And I know that it’s so selfish of me but I just want you , Viktor.”
“If the experiment goes well, you will still have—”
You can feel his chest shake when he begins to cough seconds after the break in the sentence, limbs trembling and frame quaking underneath the might of his ailment. As he gasps for air in between thunderous hacks, you hold him steady as best as you can, the amount of force pushing against you strangely vigorous for such a frail man.
“Don’t worry about me.” It comes as a whisper once the fit subsides, leaving the sheets behind you bloodied—ruined—and Viktor shivering. “Just focus on the experiment.” He nods, a low, weak hum reverberating through his being.
“You’ll get through this.” Your grip around the inventor tightens, and you find that you’re trying to root yourself somewhere once again. “You will get through this.”
"I will get through this," he recites through a sore throat, screwing his eyes shut, "I will, I will, I will."
A brief silence overtakes the two of you after the reassurance.
"It's getting late," you say after what you feel like is long enough, "We should sleep. 'S going to be a new day tomorrow." You move the blankets and tuck yourself in, Viktor acting in silent agreement, doing the same on the other side, but first clicking off the lamp light. The warmth of the room disappears with the brightness and a sudden chill runs through your body.
"Goodnight, солнышко." Once settled down, you can't bring yourself to smile at the term of endearment, but force out a response in an attempt to at least end the night normally for Viktor.
"Goodnight, моя любовь."
For a while, you can only stare at the ceiling in shallow thought, subconscious painting low tide on the canvas of the world, sending you floating into an endless push and pull of the ocean. It's peaceful, unrelenting, but peaceful nevertheless. You're reminded of your home in Zaun—the good memories.
When you finally succumb to slumber, thickened water seems to wash over your senses, your lungs coming undone into peals of ribbon and twine—strangely serene, but you're breathless all the same.
The shadow of a greyed hand graces your vision before you submit to the tide.
It is a dreamless night.
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kkayn · 17 hours ago
[Referring to this post!]
the Traveler would be confused, at first.
There had been word of a so-called ‘imposter,’ who was audacious enough to roam this world, even after it had been widely and broadly announced that the ‘true’ Creator had already descended upon Teyvat.
Obviously, in this au, the Traveler is the only one who knows for a fact that they themselves are not the true Creator, but they don’t know how to dissuade the people from their delusions either
And besides, who were they to deny the false claims and shallow praise? If all of this attention was focused onto the Traveler, then their sibling would have no choice but to reveal themselves sooner or later, right?
Even though this whole ‘Creator’ thing was a huge hassle, it does bring the Traveler one step closer to their sibling, so really, who are they to complain? No harm done, right?
The second you appear, the people of Teyvat are overwhelmed with indignant rage because how dare you have the audacity to prance around as their God when the ‘true’ Creator has already been revealed? Have you no shame?
The Traveler finds out about the whole thing pretty quickly, since I can imagine the Acolytes are only too eager to rant and rave about this audacious fool who claims to be the Creator.
They don’t really know how to react at first, they’re more bewildered than anything
But ever so slowly, that confusion makes its way for sickened disgust
Because even though the Traveler never claimed to be the Creator, and even though they still don’t understand who this Creator really is, they still can’t deny the warm, protective feeling of guidance they’ve felt since entering this world
And the fact you, a mere fraud, was making a mockery out of such a benevolent being with zero shame whatsoever?
No, the Traveler would not let this slide.
So they set out to find you straight away, and obviously, no one questions them, since the people of Teyvat think that the Traveler is going to rightfully serve you Divine Retribution, which is a cause for celebration, of course
However, when the Traveler finds you and the truth of the situation is finally unveiled, they can only gaze upon your bruised and battered form with horror.
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[TW;; blood // injury mention!!]
The sound of a weapon clattering to the floor broke the stilted silence. It seemed that for a few seconds, all of Teyvat froze to a stand still, and the Traveler could do nothing but gape at your figure in horror.
“Yo-Your Grace!” They immediately crouch to the ground before you, bowing in submission to their true Creator — you, not them — and they can only watch in muted despair as you flinch away.
The Traveler tentatively raises a shaking hand towards your wounds, and they can only gasp and gaze on in disbelief at the sheer amount of blood that coats your form. “Who—?” Their fist clenches in unadulterated rage, and their voice trembles from the sheer force of their anger.
“Those useless Archons,” a gentle hand comes up to softly brush away the dried blood that marred your face, a contrast to their venomous words. Their voice shook with the promise of vengeance.
“—They’re going to fucking pay.”
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writing-fanics · a day ago
•( Camilo Madrigal x Fem!Reader )• PT.II out of III
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(Powers): Voice Manipulation
It’s been a week since her performance and she still, couldn’t get Camilo off her head.He was so kind, handsome, caring, and actually listened to her not like the other boy pining for her in the village, Tiago.
She sighed looking out her window, and only gasped when she saw Tiago waiting outside for her, “Ugh! Go away Tiago!” She shouted, he didn’t leave.
“Wait, just hear me out please?” He pleaded. She groaned in annoyance folding her arms across her chest, “What is it?” She asked.
Tiago revealed a guitar and she groaned, wanting to bang her head against the wall. “Seriously, your going to serenade me?” She exclaimed. She’s seen it all before it’s always the same song over and over.
“It’s-not-going-to-work! Okay you get that through your brain?!” She shouted. Gripping the rails of her balcony.
“If you even have one! All you do is bring flowers, tell me I’m pretty!” She shouted.
“But you don’t take the time to understand me, to get to know me! Camilo does all that and he actually cares about me!” She exclaimed.
“All you care about is having beautiful children! Y-You don’t care about me only my beauty!”
“And I know once I get old and wrinkly, you’ll just leave me!”
“You care about having a perfect image, well your not perfect i one’s perfect! I’m not perfect I have flaws just like everyone else!”
“And I’m sick and tired of you being rude to Camilo! Pushing him out of the way, calling him names, bullying him!”
She then scoffed, “Camilo’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.” She said, before turning on her heel and walking back into her house. Leaving Tiago there both confused, heartbroken, and angry.
He clenched his fist, and smashed his guitar on the ground, storming away. She shook her head and sighed, sitting down on her bed. She stirred, hearing the sounds of peddles hitting the ground of the balcony.
“Past! Y/n!” Camilo shouted quietly. She quickly got up fixing up her hair, and dusting off her dress. Walking out onto her balcony, “C-Camilo, what’re you doing here?” She asked, looking down at him curiously.
“I wanted to see you,” He exclaimed, she giggled. She couldn’t help but get lost in his eyes. Staring into them lovingly from her balcony, “You really came only to see me? Not to serenade me or anything right?” She asked, looking at him and he nodded.
“Hey, I wanna show you something!” He said, she cocked her head to the side confused but nodded. Walking back into her room and grabbing her shawl. Then headed down the stairs and out the door.
They both locked eyes smiling at each other, “Okay, follow me.” He whispered. She chuckled taking his hand and walking with him, “So what is it you want to show me?” She asked, he turned to look at her.
“It’s a surprise.” He said, and she grinned. As they walked through the village towards the surprise they didn’t notice, Tiago following them in the darkness.
(Slight Time Skip)
Camilo covered her eyes with his hands, “Camilo, what on earth are you doing?” She asked, curiously. He just chuckled softly.
“Okay, okay, almost there.” He said. As they walked towards the surprise then uncovered her eyes, “Okay, open.” He said, and when she opened them she let out a gasp in shock.
Fireworks exploded, and she smiled watching as they left up the sky. “I-It’s beautiful.” She said, in shock smiling. She held his hand and intertwined his fingers with his, “Thanks for showing me this.” She said, looking at him.
They sat on the ground watching the fireworks. She leaned her head against his shoulder, “Y-Y/n, there’s something I need to tell you?” He said, nervously. She looked at him curiously.
“I-I-I.” He stammered.
“I-I think your an amazing person, your so funny. Kind, sweet, and you have such an amazing voice.” He stammered nervously, his cheeks bright red.
“I-I-I, really like you.” He said, And she gasped in shock smiling. Taking his hands into her own, “C-Camilo, I feel the same too.” She said.
“You make me so happy, your the first person I’ve ever felt this way about. You take the time to know me, unlike others. You look past my beauty and see me for whom I really am.” She smiled.
Tiago clinched his fist hiding behind the tree, she placed her hand on Camilo’s cheek. They leaned towards each other and shared a kiss, she let out a gasp feeling his lips against hers.
(Time Skip)
“Thanks for tonight,” She said, holding his hands. “I’m happy you had fun.” He said, smiling. She looked down nervously, and then looked back up at him.
“See you tomorrow, Camilo.” She said, giving him a peck on the lips. Backing away slowly and enter her house, “Bye,” He said, watching her in awe. Letting out a longing sigh, walking towards his house he jumped into the air excitedly.
As he walked home, he was pulled into an alleyway. Tiago glared at Camilo, “What do you have that I don’t?! Looks, charm. I have it all!” Tiago shouted, Camilo rolled his eyes and stood up to his feet.
“Maybe it’s because you don’t take the time to notice her!” Camilo exclaimed, looking at him. Tiago grabbed him by the collar, “Let go of me!” Camilo shouted. (Y/n) turned the corner and gasped in shock, “Tiago?! Let him go now!“ She shouted, running towards him pulling at his arm forcefully.
“Let go of him now!” She screamed. Tiago didn’t budge. “I’ll never accept your feelings! You’ve never taken the time to know me and now your doing this! I don’t even wanna see your face!” She shouted.
“Please, let him go.” She pleased. Kicking Tiago. He then forcefully moved his arm towards her his elbow hitting her in the face, causing her to fall on the ground. Blood running down her nose, “Ow!” She groaned.
Camilo kicked Tiago where the sun don’t shine, and ran towards (Y/n). “I hate you Tiago! I’ll never love you!” She screamed, wrapping her arm around Camilo as he helped her towards his house. Taking her to his aunt, Julieta.
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multiversal-madness · a day ago
Don’t imagine a young Bruno getting his first truly good vision and being so excited to tell someone.
Don’t imagine Bruno rushing around with the prophecy in his hands trying to get someone’s attention, but they’re all too busy or don’t want to hear it because of his last prophecies.
Don’t imagine by the time Bruno gets to tell someone about the prophecy, it’s already come and gone and no one believes he foresaw it.
And especially don’t imagine all of Bruno’s joy he felt from receiving the vision being crushed because no one else believed he was capable of seeing something good.
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rpmemes-galore · 2 days ago
confrontational & disappointed ... sentence starters
“Do it. You won’t.”
“Why did you do this? Why?”
“Get back in here. Face this.”
“Get back here, I’m not done, yet!”
“You did this. Not me. You did this...”
“You’re a coward. Always have been.” 
“You can’t keep making me the bad guy.”
“Well, do it, then. Prove you’re no coward.”
“And here I thought I could finally trust you.”
“No, you did this. And you need to pay for it.”
“You won’t hurt me. You’re not capable of that.”
“I don’t know why I expected any better from you.”
“You really have the nerve to be offended by this?”
“You’re just gonna walk away, huh? Just like that?”
“You keep threatening to leave, but you’re still here.”
“Just take this and go. I’m done. I’m done with all of it.”
“Don’t pretend to be a saint. We both know you’re not.”
“I don’t want to fight. But, I can’t put up with this anymore.”
“I think you’re just scared to find out what this really means.”
“This isn’t going to just blow over. We need to talk about this.”
“We could have had something special, but, no... you ruined it.”
“You’re not a hero. I don’t know why I ever expected you to be.”
“Don’t act surprised. You knew this had to come sooner or later.”
“What, did you think there weren’t gonna be any consequences?”
“And how am I supposed to believe a single word you say, anymore?”
“You still act like such a hopeful child. Try again when you’ve finally grown up.”
“Eventually, this is going to catch up with you. I hope I’m there to laugh and point when it does.”
“You always act like you’re better than me. But, look at this. This proves you’re no different.”
“You can turn your back on this if you want. Just don’t expect me to still be here when you finally come around, again.”
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reveltica · 2 days ago
wish i could've held you much longer
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pairing: childe x gn!reader
a/n: i am silently praying that this would be the last installment and hopefully my brain would not fart out more ideas.
WARNINGS!: my favorite: ANGST, hurt with no comfort (on childe's side), cussing and the daily reminder for people to refrain from harrassing childe or any other character mains just because of a fanfic. thank you~
part iii
"You're listening to Radio Revel"
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Having a best friend whom you have no contact over a number of days, and by chance you two did talk as if those days were nothing. It's pretty normal, right? But having no contact to your best friend/crush/the person you are falling in love with all over again could be painful!
Take Childe for example. He looked pretty normal, for a Childe. He functioned properly. Worked efficiently in the Fatui. Played with his siblings on his free time. Fished on frozen rivers with his father. Nothing wrong with him or anything.
But inside, he is a mess. A tumultuous hurricane of emotions ranging from worry to flat out lovesick. Well, maybe. He just couldn't sit still knowing that you're up there in the Snezhnayan Alps, an unexplored terrain with maybe possibly weak comrades to accompany you!
What if you got seriously injured?! And he's not there to help you ease the pain? What..what if you suddenly got seperated from your group and have no ways of contact?
Even with all of these thoughts, he still stopped himself from charging his way to those alps. Because he knows you. He knows that you could put up a serious fight, even without a Vision!
You have raw power and unbelievable hystical strength, to which he was grateful to never be on the receiving end. During the days of his and your reconciliation, he saw you fight those treasure hoarders by the foot of a mountain.
He never saw you fight like that in his entire life! It was one versus five. It was an uneven match but you didn't back down. With your skills and strength, you've beaten them up with no sweat. While watching your footwork and combat, he began admiring you far more deeper than before.
So, he has nothing to worry about! Of course! You're you! Strong, responsible, graceful, admirable, beautiful... oh so beautiful—
"Childe, please focus."
A voice interrupted his daydreaming. It belonged to a Harbinger superior to him. They had a meeting regarding about Inazuma, the Gnosis, and the sixth and the eighth Harbinger.
They seemed to have lost contact with Scaramouche, and La Signora...well. They have assigned Childe to step into the shores of Inazuma and look for The Balladeer.
Well, I know that everyone here knows what happened there, now do we? The only difference was, it was pretty awkward between him and Lumine.
Right, Lumine...
He still haven't told her that during the events that he had spent time with her, he already had someone in his heart. He was just really stupid to realize that. So the moment when Xinyan asked the Traveler if he could join the team temporarily while inspecting the domain, Lumine was very conflicted.
But after some careful contemplation, she had just agreed. After some much needed distraction (a.k.a fighting), and seeing that the domain had no corelation to what happened or where Scaramouche have gone to, Childe was so ready to get out of there.
Not until Lumine stopped him.
He turned around and had met with Lumines golden eyes. The same eyes his past self seemed to admire. They were beautiful, he isn't going to lie about that. But yours were far more superior. Like a whole glittery galaxy filled with so much character. So much life, curiosity to the mystical, and full of passion unlike his own.
"So uhh, nice seeing you again." she started with an awkward smile. He returned it with equal awkwardness "Yes, you too." The usual conversation starter began and it eased Lumine up to say what she really wanted to say.
"I really hope there isn't any static between us. You're a good friend of mine—even if you being a Harbinger might spell trouble for me later— but you were nice to be with. And if you need any help, you can count on me."
Childe blinked and bellowed out a hearty laugh, making Lumine sigh in relief that at least their friendship is safe. Only, she didn't expect him to ruffle her hair which made her move her head away from him in a playful manner.
"Don't let my status as a Harbinger hinder our relationship, comrade. Same for you as well! Whenever you're in a predicament, you can always rely on me." the same boyish grin returned to his quiet demeanor earlier.
But he returned to it in a matter of seconds because of the thought he had earlier. Lumine noticed his restlessness and spoke up. "I've noticed you being so quiet. What's the matter? I just chalked it up to us being awkward with each other because of...your confession in the past."
And there it was. The opening Childe seemed to have needed.
"Lumine...about that. I've done something really horrible. And I couldn't forgive myself for it, for maybe a lifetime." he said so solemnly, Lumine felt like her heart could break.
"..Go on."
Childe looked at her with a pained expression. "The days when we were hanging out almost all the time? How I used to "like" you before, I already have somebody. I already had a lover."
He dropped the bomb.
And Lumine was flabbergasted! She couldn't believe what she was hearing right now. If only she knew back then, she would've made sure to reduce the amount of time Childe decided to be with her when instead he should've been with you.
And being the awesome woman that she is, she sent Childe flying to the other side of the room, making Xinyan, Shiki Taishou, and Paimon be alert.
"What happened, Traveler?"
"Ah! Big Brother is attacked! Are there more enemies?!"
Lumine turned to her concerned friends and raised an apologetic hand. "No, it's fine. He was just being clumsy and stumbled on some debris. I'll go help him, so stay right here and continue investigating."
Childe was quite dusty, a bit in pain lying flat in his back, and he sighed thinking nothing of it. He actually expected her reaction to be more explosive.
And just then, her feet appeared beside him. She bent down to help him stand up. "You know, you deserve a lot more than that Childe." she deadpanned while he just laughed bitterly.
"I expected that."
Lumine frowned and for the last time, she slapped his arm. She sighed and crossed her arms, thinking that she might've contributed to some degree. But she didn't know about his relationship with you at all and she treated him right, like what a friend should.
"You were a very horrible person—"
"I know that. I've known that for a long time now." he interrupted, his voice firm and hard.
"Only because of what happened back with you two in Liyue. Heartbreaks are very hard to mend, Childe. And if they did mend, that meant that they've reflected really hard and deeply into the matter." she then placed her hand on his arm, not to slap it again but to reassure him.
"That is the only moment you were horrible, not you as an entire being."
Childe at that point just wanted to turn back time and slap the hell out of his past self before losing the person he held very dear in his heart. "And that's not the worst part." he mumbled.
"What is..?" Lumine prodded.
And at that moment, Lumine, never in her life thought that she would see the day Childe would cry. Well, not actual crying but close to it.
"I'm helplessly in love with them."
It's been nearly 4 months since you left for the Snezhnayan Alps and Childe being assigned on a mission to search for Scaramouche.
And he is growing very antsy and restless because you and your team are two weeks shy from returning! He's been planning a lot of activities for the both of you. He wanted to spend some quality time with you, may it be just a relaxing day at the shores of Liyue or a thrilling adventure on Mondstadt's mountains. He's planning on maybe taking you on a short vacation to Fontaine on his next days off.
Just a best friends care package for the hard work you've put into contributing to society. He was really proud of you and he wanted you to know that.
Right! This is just a bestie outing! Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that's what he kept on telling himself.
And the day of your return arrived. Childe was at the front of the Guilds building, waiting for you with a bouquet of paper flowers Tonia made for you. Of course by the request of her big brother since he remembered that the specific type of flowers you love couldn't grow in Snezhnaya.
The large car that took you to the alps, returned. Adventurers and researchers spilled out from the vehicle, some he had recognize from when you introduced him to them.
And there you were, in all your glory. You gracefully stepped down from the car, your thick winter cloak covering you from the cold. Did you hair grow? It loooks great on you! Your face seemed to glow even more too. It seemed like you had a fun time up there and he couldn't wait to hear your stories. didn't run to his arms like he expected you to. Instead you were still there, standing by the car, not even looking at his direction. His gut twists and curled into something he didn't like, telling him that something seems to be different, in a bad way. A man stepped down, carrying two heavy-looking bags.
He must be another researcher or adventurer who came with you on the trip. And Childe did not like that one bit. You two were talking rather enthusiastically, like you two knew of each other for a long time.
4 months isn't that long for somebody to be buddy buddy with his very close buddy. At least that's what he thought.
You noticed Childe way ahead of you, holding a bouquet of paper flowers. Your smile widened and Childe's heart melted, all his troubles with that man beside you have vanished. Especially when Childe saw his petrified look.
You ran towards your best friend and greeted them with a gentle hug. "Aww, roses! They're my favorite." you chuckled as you felt the texture of the said flower. "Let me guess, you made Tonia make this?"
"Guilty as charged." he said playfully. Then, your eyes sparkled with life. "I have a lot to talk with you about!" Childe smiled softly at you before saying a gentle "I missed you."
"Ah, right! I'd like to introduce you to a new friend of mine. Damien, this is Ajax. Ajax..this is Damien, he's also a researcher stationed at the Adventurer's Guild." you made a quick introduction for the both of them. Damien, who had black hair and piercing red eyes held out a hand for Childe to shake.
"Nice meeting you Sir Ajax, I've heard a lot about you from [Name]." he smiled a gentlemanly smile. Childe obviously didn't like him already. Knowing that he must've been with you at day one on that cold and unforgiving alps and had the audacity to bear the title of "friend" from you.
But he didn't want you to think badly of him, he was doing his best to redeem himself for you. He begrudgingly returned his handshake and mumbled a silent "Likewise."
Damien nodded and handed Childe your bag. "Well, it was nice being with you [Name] for the last 4 months. See you when I see you?"
"Of course we'll meet again! Remember of that mysterious flower we saw? By that frozen lake." you reminded him, making Childe's slack open. What? You two will still meet up? What about his plans with you?
Damiens eyes sparkled with realization. "Oh right, of course. Alright, we'll meet up by the guild and talk it over." The two of you continued to talk about plans regarding the fascinating find, while Childe was standing quietly beside you.
"Oh, I'm sorry Ajax. You see, I need to meet up with Damien again today. We're meeting up with a scientist from Sumeru to test out the properties of the flower we discovered. Maybe next time?"
No, there wasn't a next time.
"Oh..that was today? I'm really sorry Ajax. I was too caught up with our research. We even had an alchemist from Mondstadt come over yesterday and I haven't slept a wink. Maybe tomorrow? I promise."
You didn't keep the promise.
"Oh, I'm sorry Ajax. Damien and I planned to do something today."
"I have something to do with Damien—
"Damien actually invited me to—"
"Damien and I—"
....What about Ajax and you?
Childe's plans for the two of you is still that. Just, plans not put to action. He didn't want to get angry at you or at Damien. This was your discovery of a new flower! Of course he would support you and understand your situation. But things with the Fatui have been slow since the other Harbingers were given the heavy load for now. He just manages the Northland Bank from home for the moment as well. And the Traveler seemed to have gone back to Mondstadt because of an event.
Basically, nothing can distract him from his invasive thoughts about you and Damien spending time together. It was like this when he came up with excuses to tell you just so he could be with Lumine. Surely, this isn't what you were purposely doing, right? Or, did you find him boring now? Damien looked smart and well kept, should he start being like that as well? He even took the liberty to look at Damiens background and after his subordinates came back earlier than expected, he was stunned.
Damien was a Fatui Pyro Agent.
"Ajax! Wake up!"
His curtains flew open and the warm sunlight poured in. And hearing your voice, telling him to wake up? Seems like he has a very good domestic dream with you. But that soon changed when his blanket was thrown off of him. It really was you! You were in his room, trying to wake him up!
He immediately sprung up to greet you with a smile and a hug. "Good morning!" he greeted. You gasped and chuckled at his surprise hug, your arms wrapping gently around his head. "Good morning too, Ajax." you said softly.
Finally! His nightmare days are over! You told him that you were free for the week and decided to spend some quality time with your best friend. Childe led you to every place he wanted to go with you before. You two visited Fontaine's tourist spots, courtesy of Childe's hefty wealth. He treated you to various delicacies in Sumeru, and he took you to see a festival in Inazuma. It surely was the best week for you, but mostly for Childe as well. It was the best and he wishes it wouldn't end.
But...after that, things seemed to go worse for him. You did still spend time with him, but you involutarily included Damien in your conversations. You didn't mean any harm, you were just really proud of what you two have progressed so far.
Childe still listens to your ramblings, especially since you looked so passionate about this. But with Damien on the mix? He didn't want any of it. He also wanted to tell you of his work, that Damien is not what he seems. He wants you to stay away from a dangerous man like him! But it would unironically apply to him as well.
It's now, Damien this, Damien that and he was getting annoyed and jealous now. It would've been fine if this happened in the past, not now when he realized that he still had feelings for you that has grown stronger every passing day. And, realization kicks in. He also did this to you in the past. Always talking about how great Lumine was and their adventures and sparring sessions. This must be how you felt before.
And jealous, wishing that were him you were talking about. Not Damien.
Just before the day ends and you would walk away from him, he hurriedly took hold of your wrist. Afraid that you would walk off and leave him alone for good. He looked at you in desperation and your heart wrenched in worry. Was he okay? Was he in trouble?
His grip slowly went down to intertwine his fingers with yours. "Can selfish, right now?" he quietly says. You immediately nodded, your free hand on top of your tangled hands.
"Of course, what's your request? I'll do anything for my best friend." you smiled genuinely.
"Best friend", right. That's what he was to you of course.
I wish I could've held you much longer [Name]...
He gulped and hurriedly hugged you tight. As tight as he could before letting you go for tonight. You gasped at the surprise but you obliged with a soft giggle. "Aww, there there Ajax. I'm here."
No you're not. You feel distant from him, no matter how close you two are.
"I think you know why you're here." his voice cold and firm, elbows propped up on the table in his office. His dull ocean blue eyes stared down at ruby gems.
"Sir Childe.."
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yea, there will be a last part of this focusing on Childe and Damien and what the future will be for all of you.
tags: @tartaglia-please-come-home @ilylifebutwhy @iamconstantlyinpain @s-kiyomi @cyanpasm @raiiny-night @xzviana @kaeyasplsmarryme @deathkat657 @roseycottage
last part
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magical-warlock · a day ago
4 dear moments - Silco
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Wordcount: 1089
Warnings: Some slight smut and fluff really
A/N: I just wanted soft Silco too so I made it! 
Aka the ... moments where he was soft.
The sun was coming up, shining perfectly in your eyes. "Hnng." Slowly you opened your eyes and looked down to still see a hand on your waist. He stayed in bed for once. "Goodmorning." Silco spoke, his morning voice making you smile. "Morning." You stretched and turned around to look at him, placing a hand on his face. "I must have been an angel in a past life to end up with you infront of me every morning." A smile grew on his face as he moved his head so he could kiss the hand that was once on his cheek. "I'm pretty sure I must be the lucky one." These mornings spend together were rare, such the more treasure the times he was there when you woke up. You remember all those times when he had work or business and left a note behind to explain it.
"If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to leave." You clung onto him as he spoke those words, kissing him softly. "Maybe that's the idea boss." He chuckled and leaned closer, leaving behind a trail of kisses on your neck before admiring one of the hickeys he left behind last night. You took this oppertunity to move, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. His hands automatically went to your hips. "We have time for some more love right?" You winked and looked coyly at him. Silco faked a sigh as one of his hands travelled towards your waist. "For you, always."
His hands combed through his hair. The mission had gone wrong and worse, you had gotten injured. It wasn't a lot that this man would worry like this, he could pace a hole in the floor with how much he walked from side to side. The last time someone saw him like that was when Jinx had gotten badly injured on one of her missions. "Will they be alright?" Silco took a deep breath. "They will be, they're strong." Sevika knocked on the door and entered. "They're asking for you boss." He didn't waste a single moment and raced towards the room he knew you would be in. His own room, the most comfortable one.
"Hey." Your voice was hoarse but you knew you had to say something, god did he look messy in his own way. If you didn´t know him you would think he looked fine but you saw that he had just combed through his hair. Silco hesistated before stepping closer. "I'm alright see, I can open my eyes." On cue you blinked a couple of times and waited for him to say something, silence filled the room. "Don't do that" You tried to reach out to him. "Don't push me away from you." Slowly Silco brought his hand to yours, softly sqeeuzing it. "I can't help it." You understood him, everything was dangerous and  with the name he made for himself even more were waiting for his downfall. "We're both still here and we´ll keep being here for each other."
You took a drink from behind the bar, scanning the crowd for Sevika. There she was, on her own, perfect. You grabbed a second tank to bring for her. She had already caught side and motioned for you to come over. "So let me guess, you haven't had any luck since I was gone?" She nodded and drank. "He's been in his office working the entire time. Hasn't even come out once this week." The laughter you let out could only be described as a snort. "Thank you for keeping him in sight." Sevika let out a hum before looking out in the crowd. "I'll let you continue your bed warmer journey." A chuckle escaped her mouth as you winked and walked away.
The hallway was quiet and you softly knocked on the door. "Come in." Silco tiredly said from the other side. "I heard some perculiar." He didn't even look up from the paperwork infront of him yet he did raise a single eyebrow. "Peculiar huh." You nodded with a hum, stepping closer to the desk. "Someone here hasn't taken a break." You took away the piece of paper, making him look at you annoyed. "I can't jus-."
"Shush, you can and will take a break. Sevika will take care of the paperwork tomorrow but for now" You reached over the desk and stole his jacket. "I need a shower and I need someone to protect me." You started laughing softly, hearing the chair move backwards. Silco grabbed his coat from your hands and put it back over his chair. "You know you can just beg for me if you want me so badly, pet."
Silco found you sitting on the bed in your shared room. He felt out of element as he stepped in, avoiding your eyes as he did. Today was the day he had hurt you with something he had said but what could he do about it. The undercity is dangerous and having you out there was a weakness and a worry for him, how could you not see how weak you were making him. Perhaps he shouldn't have said those words even though they were the truth. I mean, he could've have easily locked you in a room so you couldn't leave and be safe back here, in his sight, in his control. “I do love you, you know. Even if I’m shit at showing it.” It was hard for him to be so vulnerable with someone especially after the last time he let someone truly in who then tried to kill him later on.
"Yeah you are shit at showing it but I expected that going into this relationship with you." Your eyes were puffy and red. The tears had now long dried after sitting here for what felt like hours. Silco sat down on the bed next to you, the closeness would have made your body warm if it wasn't for the current issue on the table. “Look, I care about you, alright? Quite a bit, I’m afraid so you can't do that to me." He hummed. "I worry every time you get out on the streets, every time you have to meet with the enforcers or someone down here, you're strong and I know Sevika is strong too but the thought of losing you terrifies me, Silco." You put your arm around him, knowing he wouldn't be the one to start a hug. "I'll work on it."
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Happier Than Ever pt. 1
The End of New Beginnings
Pro Hero Bakugo Katsuki x Pregnant Civilian Reader
CW: pregnant reader, angst, some comfort, past character death, past manipulation, crying.
I hope you enjoy this part. I've been working on it for about 2 months now and decided to break it up into a little series because it was getting to be very long.
AO3 <- Follow the story here to get notified when it updates!
Bakugo didn’t like to be interrupted when he was doing important work. As a prohero, he thought he had an important job, that meant that everything he did was important. Even the god awful meetings he had to attend. Luckily for him, this wasn’t a mandatory meeting. This was a meeting between close colleagues discussing special interests. Around him were Deku and Red Riot, two of his most trusted allies. The discussion centered around a villain that had gone into hiding, a terrible presence that had made himself known to heroes and government through destructive and illegal means. Anything to do with this villain was strictly kept on a need to know basis. This meeting simply could not be interrupted.
And yet his receptionist came knocking on his office door. She was a headstrong young woman, someone that didn’t back down easily. She was the perfect person to work for the Dynamight agency. She slipped in and closed the door behind her. “Sorry to intrude.”
“No, by all means, let yourself in, why don’t you?” Bakugo spat out sarcastically. He glared at her, the room having gone quiet when the knocking started. They had just been discussing possible hideouts for the villain in question when they were bothered. Deku and Red Riot sat patiently in contrast to the loud and hotheaded hero whose office they occupied. “What is it?”
“There’s a woman here to see you,” she said. Before Bakugo could get a word in, she added, “She says she knows something about Dread Night.”
Dread Night was the threat they’d been discussing prior to the secretary’s entrance. He was dubbed so by media outlets as he brought dread upon the city from dusk till dawn. It was the lamest name Bakugo had ever heard, but he wasn’t about to fight anyone on it so long as he got to bag this guy and put him in a cell.
“I don’t need some little fan trying to get in here by saying she knows something,” Bakugo huffed. He rolled his eyes at the absurd claim, wondering how someone could say they knew anything about this guy when barely anyone knew anything about him. It got him a little mad. Was this woman trying to waste his time? “Tell her to scram and that whatever she has can be sent to the cops.”
“She says she’s his fiancé.”
That got his ears burning. He looked into the serious, sometimes mistaken for cold, eyes of his employee to determine if she believed this woman outside his office. He couldn’t find a hint of doubt in her blue eyes, but that didn’t mean he thought this was a good idea yet.
“Maybe we should hear her out,” Deku spoke up.
Red Riot chipped in, “Yeah, if she came all the way up here then she must have something good.”
Bakugo continued to stare, then he grunted. “Let her in, Sayaka”
Sayaka didn’t move. “Be gentle with her. She’s sensitive.”
“Don’t tell me how to act in my own damn office,” Bakugo barked.
“We’ll make sure he behaves,” Riot half joked.
Sayaka nodded to Riot and then went to the door. She opened it and spoke to someone outside, giving an assuring smile. Then you walked in and Bakugo understood why he was supposed to act gentle.
You waddled in with one hand under your large pregnant belly and a fat manilla envelope in the other. You looked frightened and nervous, hair frazzled and messy. You were dressed to your best, your best being maternity pants and an old All Might t-shirt that was pulled taught over your belly. The envelope seemed to hang off your fingers, as if you didn’t care to hold onto it any tighter despite its large and heavy appearance.
“Hello,” you said meekly.
Immediately, both Deku and Red Riot stood up to give you their seats. You took the closest one to you, which was Deku’s, and sighed as the weight was taken off of your feet. You looked up at him and quietly let out, “Thank you.”
Riot took his seat again. He relaxed and became a comforting presence to your obviously scared and nervous demeanor. Bakugo still sat behind his desk without saying a word. Deku moved to the end of the desk, placing himself in your view so you wouldn’t be worried about his presence.
He spoke first, “What brings you here?”
You hesitated, looking down at your belly. You rubbed it to soothe your nerves and took a deep breath. “My fiancé… he’s the man you’re looking for. He’s… Dread Night.”
Bakugo held back his scoff. He straightened up and huffed instead. “And what makes you think that?”
“Well, Hiroto… he works a lot, mostly at night. He said he was a freelance worker, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense. Whenever I ask about his jobs, he tells me not to worry about it,” you started, meeting the intense gaze of the high-ranking hero. Regardless, or because, of looking into his eyes, your voice shook and wavered. “Then he started becoming distant. I thought that maybe he was no longer in love with me. I thought maybe he was seeing someone else be-behind my back.”
Riot reached over and rubbed your shoulder. You had started rushing your words and he just wanted you to know that you could take your time. You took his touch as a moment to take a breath. Tears started to burn your eyes and you furiously wiped them away, but more came back up just as fast. You took a little time to calm down.
“So I-I started looking around. I thought I would find something that meant he didn’t love me anymore. I would have asked him, but he’s never around. All I could do was look. I’m not allowed to go into his office or the garage, but I went into his office anyway. I didn’t find anything until I looked in his desk and found all those news articles about Dread Night. Then I found this.”
You tried to put the envelope on the desk, but your belly prevented it. Riot held out his hand and you gave it to him. He opened it and looked into it carefully, his face falling from easy going but attentive to ashen and confused, maybe even hurt. He turned the envelope over to allow the item to fall into his hand, but he quickly and carefully put it onto the desk.
All three heroes said nothing as they looked at the support tool of their fallen comrade Chargebolt, who had died only months ago at the hands of Dread Night. He had saved many lives evacuating the area and fighting off the villain, but in the end he had been struck by the powerful blast of the horrible man’s quirk.
Everyone mourned the death of the charismatic hero. He had been a delight to those who looked up to him as a hero and even more special than that to those who had been close to him. Bakugo remembered that day as if it had been branded into his memory with an iron. He stewed in guilt for a long time, regretting not being able to make it to the scene before things became fatal. Everyone had similar feelings; anger and regret and sadness over the loss of their friend.
The worst part had been that Dread Night had gotten away. He was hard to track down because he concealed his identity. Any part of him that could lead to anyone identifying him was covered in some way. He wore a particular mask that shielded his face from cameras, he wore gloves to keep from leaving any prints. He even hid his voice from the people he encountered. Everything about this man was a mystery aside from the crimes he committed. It was why any and everything had to be hush-hush when they did figure anything out about him.
Bakugo’s face became pinched with rage. His stare slowly went from the tool to you. His eyes, angry and sad, bore into your frightened and saddened eyes. Your tears had returned, but now they ran down your face in tiny rivers. You held your belly, trying to rub it but your hands shook violently.
You shook your head as if trying to disbelieve it yourself. “I’m so sorry…”
Riot was quiet as the wound of mourning was torn open anew. They had found Kaminari without his handy support tool and they had all checked the rubble for it. They had looked everywhere for it. Finally having it was bitter. It was made worse that it had been brought to them rather than found.
Deku finally spoke up. “Your fiancé had this in his possession?” He did his best to come off as calm, but there was a quiver in his tone. He was just as upset as his friends around him, but he realized quickly that he had to be the levelheaded one in that moment.
You nodded, head bowed as you rubbed circles on your belly. Little kicks hit your hand, little reassurance in such a horrible moment. You had just brought three big name proheroes a possession of their fallen colleague. You just made this day one of the worst for them, as you could imagine.
You went on to explain, “I found it with his things… other things that I-I know couldn’t be his.”
“There’s more?” Bakugo asked in a low growl. His hands had become fists somewhere between now and when the envelope was opened. He gritted his teeth as you nodded.
Riot, coming back down from his moment of realization and pain, gave you a box of tissues. Even in his own chest tightening heart ache, he continued in his attempt to soothe you. His hand went to your shoulder again, and this time it stayed there. Maybe it helped him too.
“I brought this because I-I thought it would make you believe me. But there’s many things. Identification cards, passports, licenses, keys that go to things I don’t know,” you told him, trying to list as much as you could while you brought a tissue to your face. You choked up a little. “Wallets and phones. Jewelry, watches, even pictures of people’s kids.”
Your hand clutched your belly. “I thought he wanted a family. I thought he loved me. But I sat there last night and I realized that I was just supposed to be his cover up!”
You began to bawl your eyes out. Your words came out with frustration and anger and pain. You blew our nose into another tissue and tossed it toward the little waste basket beside the desk. You grabbed another and tried to dry your cheeks, shaking your head again.
Silence came over the room. It sat there for a long stretch of time, a couple of minutes in reality. Then, “Why not go to the cops with this?”
Your head snapped up and you looked into his hardened vermillion eyes. “I got scared. And I knew I could trust you.” Your voice came out in a shallow whisper. The look you gave him made Bakugo lighten up, slowly but surely.
He looked down, but made sure to look at the finish on his desk. He didn’t want to look at anything else there. He needed to think about what to do next, not about things of the past. When he collected his thoughts and the questions he wanted to ask, he looked at Deku and Red Riot. They both looked like they had been gutted and without sleep all of sudden. It wasn't enough that they had been trying to track this guy with little to no leads, but now you walked in and gave them what they had been almost desperately looking for. It was good but it was hurting.
His comrades looked at him. Deku gave you a quick glance. Riot turned his attentive attention back to you, comforting you with little gestures. They were all thinking the same thing. What would happen to you?
There was no doubt in any of their minds that you were just as much a victim in the reign of terror that Dread Night had brought upon the city. If anything, you were closest to the disaster as any of the three of them were. You were caught up in a mess of heroes versus villains that you didn’t ask to be a part of. You were a fiancé who thought you were going to start a perfect family with someone you were led to believe loved you. Where did all of that put you?
“Do you have somewhere you can go?” Bakugo finally asked. You nodded.
“I can go to my mother’s, but she’s not home. She’s away for a few weeks,” you explained. Your tears had dried up, but you continued to sniffle. You held a tissue in one hand as a little comfort and your other hand went back to your belly. “I’m scared to be alone, though.”
“Where does he think you are right now?” Deku asked. Of all of them, he looked the most concerned, not that Dynamight or Riot didn’t look concerned but their faces were pinched with questioning and anger. “And where is he?”
“He thinks I’m at home, getting ready for the baby,” you answered, head bowing slowly. “He said he was going to a job, but I don’t know where he is. He doesn’t tell me where he goes when he has a ‘job’.”
“Miss…” Riot stopped himself short, realizing in that moment none of them knew your name. He looked at you apologetically as you told him your name. He also noticed, finally, that you had no ring on your finger. He said your name in a warm and stern way. “We’re going to help you.”
“And we’re not gonna let him get away with this,” Dynamight grunted. You looked from Riot to him, meeting his eyes. “None of it.”
The car ride to your home was quiet. You’d agreed to go with the heroes to show them what room was your fiancé’s office. There was a CSI van following, which seemed to make the sorrow in your heart grow. You were sitting in the back with Prohero Deku, but you couldn’t look up. The heroes didn’t know what to say. They could say that everything would be okay, but how could they say that to someone who’s life was being upended? So they settled for the silence.
When Dynamight pulled up to your home, you looked up with glossy eyes. A choked sob came up that you tried biting back. It was hard to look upon the home.
“You don’t have to go in,” Deku said, reaching out to touch your arm.
You shook your head. There was a sense of responsibility in this. You had to. “I can do it.”
Red Riot opened your door and gave you his hand. You held it a little longer than needed, staring at the house you had intended on making a home. It looked normal, it fit in with all the other houses on the street. It wasn’t very big, but it had been enough. It had been perfect.
You let go and began walking up to the door. You took out your key to unlock it and when the door opened, you let out a hard breath. You turned to the heroes, who were just behind you, and the CSI team who was just behind them. It was as if there were something holding you back there. All these people were behind you, but it still felt like you were going to have to go in alone.
Dynamight stepped up and took the lead wordlessly. It made it easier to go in, so you stepped through the threshold and flicked on the light. When the head of CSI was called in for this, she had told you what to expect and asked if it was okay to search the home. You had already agreed to it, but you confirmed with her that it was what you wanted. She took your fingerprints per protocol and then said they could go to the home as soon as the heroes were ready.
Dynamight was angry the entire way there, but as soon as he had walked into that house, something washed over him. It was a new kind of anger, the kind that was sad and disappointed. The outside of your house looked average, the inside was what spoke volumes. It had everything a home should have, comfortable furniture, framed photos, decorative candles were set out. The floors and chairs were clean, the vacuum tucked away between a wall and neatly organized bookcase.
The anger came from seeing all the baby prep scattered about.
There was a baby book on the coffee table, a half made yellow blanket laid over one chair, the box to a crib at the front door to be taken out for trash pickup. The home was halfway through baby proofing, sharp corners covered with little foam pieces, outlets with new covers, breakables were put away. You were supposed to be getting ready for a new member of your family, but instead CSI was pushing through and setting up shop to begin their investigation.
You bowed your head and pointed to a hallway. “This way,” you mumbled, beginning the waddle to the last door on the left. A shaky hand turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the mess inside.
It was obvious the room had been pristine at some point, but littering the floor was newspapers, wallets, IDs, bus passes, passports, keys, garage door openers, pictures, jewelry, and other personal belongings that didn’t match with the rest of the home. The desk drawers were on the floor, there was a vase in pieces nearby.
You covered your mouth as if you were seeing all of this for the first time, but the recognition in your eyes didn’t waver. You turned away, closing your eyes tightly in some hope that this was all some nightmare. Your gut was twisted up, which reminded you that this was all too real.
A CSI came through with a case. Another followed with a camera. And thus started the process of photographing your house and the bagging and tagging of evidence.
“You don’t have to stay,” a gruff voice said behind you. You looked up at Dynamight, new constellations of tears welling in your eyes. He couldn’t imagine the pain and suffering you were feeling. You had begun to mourn a life you hadn’t even started yet. “I can drive you to your mother’s house.”
You had no car. The only car you had was with Hiroto. He always took the car. You’d insisted on getting another one, but he’d said no, that it was too expensive. So you mostly took the bus or train everywhere you needed to go. You weren’t too humble now to not accept his offer. “Thank you.”
He began to lead you away from the office. His hand was like a ghost on your back, less comfortable in touching you gently like his colleagues did. You didn’t mind. His presence was enough comfort. He was a high ranking hero who had a good streak of capturing villains and petty criminals. His harsh attitude clashed with what the house was normally full of. He brought something different, which was far more comforting to you than the now unfamiliar feel of your house.
You couldn’t look at anything without thinking of Hiroto. What once had been a home filled with love was now a house full of seedy betrayal. Looking back on it, the “love” Hiroto had shown you felt overwhelming and was sometimes too much, but you had thought that was what love was supposed to be. Afterall, there were different forms that love could take, but now it was clear his “overwhelming love” was love bombing, something that he always did so you wouldn’t ask too many questions whenever he came home. He brought you gifts, whose origins were never discussed. He kissed you and loved you so much when he was here, if he wasn’t in his office or garage, and made any questions disappear.
It felt awful when you first saw it for what it was and it still hurt.
“Can I grab some things to take with me?” you asked. Your voice was so soft, so broken. It continued to lightly startle Dynamight, not that he let it show. He looked at you, hating your fiancé even more for putting that sad, lost look on your face. You held your belly as if it were the only thing you had, so protective over the child you carried.
“Yeah,” he said. “You can pack a bag to take.”
He followed you to the bedroom. He helped you pull a suitcase from the top of the closet. He watched you carefully pick some clothes out, but you were picky. You explained you didn’t want anything from Hiroto. You didn’t want anything to remember him by.
You didn’t need blankets or pillows or food or toiletries. Your mother had all of that at her home. You just needed your prenatal vitamins and your slippers. You threw in fuzzy socks and some skin care creams. Dynamight stood nearby while the other heroes observed and helped the CSI team in the other rooms.
You walked to another room with a bag on your arm. Dynamight was quick to follow, but stopped at the door when he saw what room you had gone into.
It was a brightly colored nursery with three yellow walls and one blue accent wall. There was a little bookcase, a changing table, a dresser, and a rocking chair, everything a new parent would need. The dresser had little toys scattered across it and a nighttime noise machine and a lamp with a monkey sitting on the base. There was a fuzzy rug laid across the floor. There were supplies everywhere, diapers, wipes and bibs. There was a stroller in the corner. You’d outfitted the room for your baby so well.
The dark wood crib was in the center of the blue wall with a little mobile hanging over it. Little animals and flowers hung from the mobile, overlooking the soft bedding and blankets in the crib. You reached into the bedspace and took a little toy bunny that looked a little old. You stared at it, petting the ears back, and he decided that that bunny was probably yours before you gave it to the baby.
“I, uh, I’m sorry this happened,” he said, huffing. He didn’t say the words “I’m sorry” a lot, but something about this situation seemed to warrant it. It didn’t get caught in his throat like it usually did, which made it feel like it was appropriate to say this time.
You looked at him and tried to smile. “It’s okay,” you said, despite the both of you knowing that nothing was okay. You put the bunny toy in your bag. “I'd rather know now than be a fool.”
You moved to the dresser and grabbed baby clothes, bibs, and a few wraps. Watching you pack those items so carefully into your bag made him realize just how close you were to actually having the baby. He suddenly realized he was standing in a complete nursery. A nursery that you were unlikely to come back to.
“I could have realized it much sooner,” you said. He looked at you, watching you grab pacifiers and toys. You took the noise machine and baby monitor and held them in your hands. He came over and took them from you, finally understanding why you left space in your suitcase. “He always said he loved me, everytime he came home, but… he never talked about the baby. When we… he acted like he wanted a baby, but after I got pregnant, he never said anything more about it. He started leaving more, doing more. And when that happened, there was always a spike in crime from Dread Night. I don’t understand how I never saw it before.”
“It was part of his plan so you wouldn’t figure him out,” Dynamight said. His voice was softer, quiet even. It caught you off guard, but for the first time that day your heart wasn’t racing. “But he underestimated you. You’re a lot stronger and smarter than he thinks you are.”
You smiled up at him, and it was the first time he saw a real smile from you. It made him feel better, like he wasn’t in the lair of a major villain at that moment. He helped you grab a few more things and put them in the suitcase. He folded up the stroller to take to your mother’s and then carried it all to the car.
He told his colleagues where he was going and made sure they could handle the scene without him there. Once he was assured that they could handle it, not that he really doubted Deku and Riot couldn’t handle it, he helped you into his car and drove you away from the now cursed house you didn’t want to come back to.
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encantomybeloved · a day ago
I made another little fic!
He'd done it before. And of course, he regretted it each time. He could only imagine the look on the face of his parents if they known what he had done. The would be heartbroken, they didn't deserve that. He didn't want to hurt them.
He knew it was wrong. one was gonna know. Dolores' room was soundproof for her sake. And it's not like his parents were home. As long as he kept one of tia Julietta's arepa's on hand, it's not like he could get caught.
Thus why he was in his room with a razor blade and two arepa's on his vanity. He pushed the blade onto his forearm until he saw a prick of blood appear. He dragged the blade down his arm. And then he did it again.
And again.
And again.
"Camilo!" Antonio called as he opened the door.
"Shit!" Camilo whisper-shouted as the blade slipped from his bloody hands. He quickly grabbed an arepa to hide all the cuts that resided on his forearms. And, yes. It did get rid of the cuts!
Unfortunately, it didn't get rid of the blood that was the result of said cuts.
It wouldn't matter if it did anyway. Antonio saw the whole thing.
"Why are you in my room?" Camilo said, slight anger and embarrassment lacing his voice.
"I-I just wanted to show you this panther chameleon I found." He held his hands out to show the chameleon that lied within them. "You...said they were your favorite." That last part came out as a sad mumble.
"What were you doing?"
A dreaded question.
"Did you do that to yourself?"
An even more dreaded question.
Antonio stared at the razor blade that had fallen onto the floor. While Camilo avoided looking at him. Instead grabbing a nearby handkerchief to try and get some of the blood off his arms and hands. It didn't really work.
"No?" He said, he didn't say it knowing Antonio would but it, it was more grasping at a slimmer of hope that he would. And of course, he didn't.
"Yes." He said with a sigh.
"Why?" Antonio sounded almost distressed when he asked.
It was almost enough to make Camilo cry. This was exactly what he afraid of. He didn't want to hurt his family.
"You wouldn't understand Antonio, just-"
"But I don't think you should be hurting t yourself, I don't want you to be in pain."
Before was almost enough to make him cry. This was enough.
"Antonio, it's just something I do when I'm stressed okay?" He tugged on the ends of his poncho.
Antonio ran up to Camilo and gave him a hug.
"Well, I don't want you to be stressed!" He said. "Next time you feel like that can come into my room and hang out with me! You said you loved it in there." He smiled as he looked up at Camilo.
Camilo looked down at his little brother, tears still falling down his face.
"T-thanks Antonio. That's...a really sweet offer."
"You have to promise." Antonio said with a more serious tone.
A promise he intended to break.
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giotanner · 2 days ago
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Albedo //primordial experiment// - Genshin Impact
How I face with this INCREDIBLE story? With an angsty drawing~
It's spoilerish because we didn't see THIS happen, but in the end we can presume Albedo will find *that* "primordial Albedo - failed experiment
You can support me with a REBLOG please 💙
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89swiift · a day ago
used and discarded ➵ (JJ MAYBANK)
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 : no one!
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jj maybank x fem!reader
𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 : angst
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : jj uses you as a bet for money
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : crying (A LOT), heartbreak, language, fighting, drug usage, suicide attempt (pls don't do this my loves since there are so many people around you that love you and care about you, and if you need help then don't be afraid to ask for it. you guys can talk to me anytime you want, doesn't matter if its 3 am in the morning)
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : this imagine is an au and it doesn't have the gold and stuff! also guys ik i haven't posted in like a month? that's bcs of school && exams and stuff so sorry about that. and ummmm i hope you like this imagine <3 and also i'm working on a pt2 of my rafe fic - forever, check it out <3 [ps there will be a part 2 for sure ;) ]
It was impossible for you to believe that this was actually happening. It was impossible for you to grasp how someone could be so ruthless and emotionless with someone else's feelings. How could the boy you loved, the boy you thought loved you, do this to you? All you could feel at the current moment was pain and a sense of being used and betrayed. You felt as though you meant nothing to him, as if he never loved you.
You remembered the moment when the glass cracked, all too well. You were standing on the porch of the Chateau, listening to the shouting match going on inside, confused as to what was happening.
“You’ve gotta tell her man!” You heard John B exclaim, “This isn’t right JJ! Y/N’s in love with you for god’s sake!”
John B's words made your eyebrows furrow. What in the world was he talking about? You pressed your ear to the door, trying to listen more about what they were arguing about.
“Don’t you think I know that?!” Your boyfriend shouted at John B, “But it’s different now, I’m in love with her too! So, let’s just drop the whole thing and move on!”
“J, she deserves to know the truth, you owe her at least that much.” John B breathed deeply before looking sternly into JJ's eyes and saying, “If you won't tell her, I will.”
“What the fuck John B?” JJ growled at the brunette, "You're my friend, you can't do that.”
“You're right, I am your friend JJ, but I’m Y/N’s too.”
At the very moment, as you leaned on the door a little more hard, to listen more carefully, the door accidentally creaked open and you let out a small shriek as both of John B's and JJ's heads snapped towards you.
“Y/N? what are you doing here?” JJ looked at you startled as he asked you the question, his voice tinged with what you could decipher as panic and a hint of slight fear.
“I just came over to hang out, when I heard you guys bickering.” You eyed them both suspiciously as their demeaner had suddenly changed since they’d seen you. “What were you two talking about?”
JJ’s eyes widened, “You didn’t hear everything did you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean JJ?”
Both of them remained silent, unsure of what to say or do, and you stood there, beyond confused. Clearly, whatever the concern was, it included you, so you had a right to find out what it was.
“JJ, if you're in trouble or anything like that, you don't have to be afraid to talk to me about it,” You said to your boyfriend, who was standing in front of you, “I love you, J. No matter what happens, we'll work through it together.”
JJ glanced back towards John B, the two of them still staying silent.
You had enough.
“Okay, look, if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on–”
“JJ used you as a bet for money,” John B blurted out, interrupting your words and shocking you.
“John B, what the fuck dude!” JJ shouted in anger, clenching his jaw and fists as he glared at the brunette boy. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“I told you before itself man, she's my friend, and she deserves to know the truth,” John B put his hands up in surrender, slowly withdrawing from the furious blonde.
You were utterly dumbfounded.
It was as if your mind went blurry as you heard the words – “JJ used you as a bet for money” over and over again in your head as you felt your heart physically break inside your chest. It couldn't be true, right? There was no way JJ would do that to you. He told you himself that he loved you and that he would never hurt you.
“JJ, is it true?” you asked with a small voice filled with heartbreak and hurt, your question stifling the arguing going on between both boys, and the attention of the pair was suddenly drawn back to you. John B's words made you pray to God, hoping that they weren't true – you knew you wouldn't be able to endure such pain.
A wave of guilt overcame JJ's body as he looked at the girl in front of him. Your expression showed the depth of your hurt and JJ's mouth went dry as he remained silent, not able to find the courage to admit to the horrible thing he'd done.
JJ's silence answered your question pretty well.
“Wow . . . ” Taking a deep breath, you raked your hands through your hair and tried to comprehend the information you had just received. Heartache slipped down your face in the form of small tears which were slowly flowing down your cheeks.
“Y/N I–” JJ reached out, grabbing your arm.
It was as if a bomb had just exploded.
“Don't fucking touch me JJ,” You hissed at him, pushing him away from you. “I can't believe you would do this to me! You knew all the shit that was going on in my life, and you promised not to hurt me. You told me you loved me.”
“I did - I do love you Y/N!” JJ pleaded, hoping that you would forgive him even though the odds were pretty unlikely.
What a liar. If he loved you, then he would have never ever even dreamt of hurting you the way he did. You walked up to him – the anger, humiliation and heartbreak taking over you as you punched his chest repeatedly with both your fists.
Knowing that he deserved it, JJ didn't stop you from hitting him.
With angry tears flowing down your tan face, you yelled at him, demanding, “How could you not tell me about this before JJ? It's been a fucking six months since we started dating! And to think all this time, our entire relationship was fake, nothing but a lie.”
JJ shook his head, denying your words, “Our relationship wasn't fake Y/N. It was real, and you know that. Baby, you had me hooked from the very first date and although I knew I should've cancelled the bet, I didn't because I needed the money to pay my father back.”
You stared at him with a mixture of utter bewilderment and unbelief. He played you for six months, just because he wanted to repay his father? He toyed with your emotions and made you fall in love with him only to break your heart in the end? Absolutely ridiculous.
"Well JJ, I hope the money was worth it," You scoffed, "because if you really did love me, then you just lost the one real thing you had in your life. I'm done J. We're over. I never want to talk to you or see your face again."
Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled the flashback, and not being able to control your feelings, you broke down, sliding down onto the floor of your bathroom with your back against the door.
The fact that JJ would hurt you the way that he did shocked you. He was the only person to whom you had completely opened up to and the only person you had told about your beyond terrible life to. Taking into account what your life had been like, you thought he wouldn't hurt you, but here he was, hurting you, just like how numerous people had done before.
Another broken sob escaped your lips as your entire body trembled from the pain, you no longer being able to handle it. It was too much. You couldn't take any more of the heartbreak - the heartbreak of your parents abandoning you, the heartbreak of nearly everyone in outer banks hating you, and finally the heartbreak of the boy you loved, using you for money.
Why did JJ do this to you? Why did the only person you trusted and loved, betray you so drastically? Why did people always leave you? Why did your life always revolve around hurt and heartache?
The pain was everywhere - your heart, your head and your entire body. And all you wanted was for it to be stopped.
You suddenly remembered that you had some leftover medicinal pills in your cabinet. If you had been mentally stable, you wouldn't have done this, but for now, you couldn't take it anymore.
Getting up from the floor, you opened the topmost cabinet and grabbed the orange bottle that was sitting there, and you opened it slowly. Then you took one of the small white pills out and downed it without any second thought. And then you took another one. And another one. And another one.
It wasn't clear how many you had taken before you started to feel dizzy and the world begun spinning around you, and a few seconds later, you vision went completely dark.
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albedoswifehusband · 12 hours ago
angst eh? so how about watching diluc, albedo, kaeya, childe (can add or remove) falling for someone else. gender neutral ofc
-(hiiiiii Donna this one's for u)
-He's got this soft look in his eye whenever he sees the person he's falling for and it's incredibly obvious he's not seeing you the same way he sees them.
-Its best you keep your distance, being a close friend still after this will only hurt with how caring he is.
-Its not obvious that he's falling for someone but you'll notice him starting to ignore other people in favor of the recipient of his affection.
-its almost like when he gets a new special interest he wants to devote all his time to researching. He'll spend all his free time on them for a bit before levelling out and giving everyone in his life attention again.
-Even after he comes down from his fixation he doesn't talk to you the same.
-he's open about his interest in them, mentioning it to you as he analyzes them in the tavern one night. He'll briefly go on romantically about it before stopping and enjoying his wine in silence.
-Please continue to be his friend.
-its so obvious that it hurts immediately. He's spending all his extra time chasing them around and it's largely due to meeting them in the right time and place by chance.
-He just can't get that same rush of emotion with you. Maybe if you had met each other later in life it would have been you instead of them?
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