#it's going to beat this cold i can feel it

[rafeandonlyrafe]

my aphrodite

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, husband!rafe, pregnant!reader, pregnancy sex but not really pregnancy kink, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, brief mentions of issues with pregnancy (just at the very beginning, its rafes anxiety)

“oh thank god you're home.” you rush up to rafe the second the front door shuts behind him.

“what's wrong?” rafe asks, eyes widening, thoughts immediately shifting to what could possibly be the problem. “is it the baby? are you bleeding?” 

rafe reaches for your stomach, looking over your body.

“god, nothing like that.” you shake your head. “the baby is fine im not fine though.” before rafe can interrupt you, you quickly continue. “im so horny, babe. like so fucking horny. my hormones are- god, like im already wet just from seeing you i need you to fuck me.”

“jesus.” rafe presses a hand against his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. “yeah, of course, let's go upstairs.”

“too far.” you grasp rafes hand, tugging him into the kitchen. you lean over the counter and flip up the bottom of your maternity dress, showing off your already bare and wet pussy.

“jesus.” rafe says again, this time his tone light as he laughs. “you really are needy.”

“do something. do something, im going crazy.” you plead, arms resting on the countertop.

your head drops to the cold marble as rafe gets down on his knees behind you, pressing his face between the opening of your thighs.

“oh, fuck.” you moan out as rafes mouth meets your pussy, smearing your juices across his chin as he eats you out.

what you can't see is rafe pulling his cock out of his pants, stroking himself to hardness just from your taste on his tongue.

rafe turns his attention to your clit, teasingly running the tip of his tongue around it in wide circles before closing in, pressing kisses to your most sensitive part.

“more.” you beg, and rafe is quick to listen as he sucks your clit into his mouth, both hands coming to hold your thighs now that he's sufficiently hard.

you let out a satisfied moan, glad to finally have rafes attention where youve been craving it all day, but it isn't what you truly want.

“fuck me. need your cock, rafey. need it so bad. want you to put another baby in me.” you whine out, knowing while it may not be possible, you need to be filled with him in every way possible.

rafe stands quickly, scrambling to his feet as he pushes his cock into you, moaning when he sinks into your wetness, soft and open for him as he immediately begins to push his hips forward into you.

“god, finally.” you squeal.

“next time just call me, ill come home from work to fuck you.” rafe laughs, watching the way your hands are gripping the marble, trying to find something to hold but only finding the smooth surface.

“maybe ill just tell the secretary im bringing you in lunch and you can fuck me in your office.” you laugh airly.

“except we both know you can't be quiet.” rafe grunts as he speeds his hips up to keep you satisfied.

“mhm exactly.” you smile, looking back over your shoulder at rafe. “remind everyone in your office that you're mine.”

rafe just nods. he knows no one has forgotten, not when you come in every other day to drop him off lunch, telling him how bored you are when he's not home and how much you desperately miss him.

you keep your head turned as rafe unbuttons his shirt, his hips still pushing forward as he lets the fabric fall from his shoulders, revealing his sculpted torso.

“you're like a damn greek god.” you moan out, finding your husband even more attractive now that you're pregnant with his baby, something you didn't even realize was possible.

“then you're my aphrodite.” rafe bends over your back, pressing a kiss to your lips that you graciously accept.

you let out a whine when he pulls away, only for rafe to quickly maneuver you, flipping you over and picking you up so you're sat on the countertop.

“need to keep kissing you.” rafe says, grabbing his cock and realigning himself with your pussy as his mouth dominates yours.

“god, yes.” you whine, pressing yourself as close to rafe as you can with your pregnant belly, hips at the very edge of the marble slab.

rafe takes over your entire body, pushing into your pussy while his mouth leaves you with no other room to think about anything other than him.

“i love you baby.” rafe moans, barely pulling his mouth away to talk. “you're so beautiful.”

“cum in me.” you whine. “please, need it.”

“yeah, i got you.” rafe grunts, putting all his focus into pressing inside of you, determined to make you cum.

he sighs with relief when he feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as your high hits, entire body shuddering with pleasure as rafe allows the wall to fall as he moans out your name and cums inside of you.

“fuck! baby!” rafe shouts, pushing as deep inside of you as he can, it's not like he needs to worry about getting you pregnant when you're already filled with his baby.

“ah, shit.” you whine, laying back against the countertop, splayed out, maternity dress still pushes up, showing off your belly and dripping pussy as rafe carefully pulls out.

“come on, let's get you in the bath.” rafe scoops you up in his arms, biceps bulging as he carries you up the stairs.

“remember, no hot water.” you hum as rafe sets you down in the chair he dragged into the bathroom just for you, not wanting you to have to stand while doing your makeup or brushing your teeth.

“i know.” rafe laughs softly, having learned everything about pregnancy in order to help you. he leans down over the chair, hands on either arm. “but thanks for the reminder, beautiful.”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into another kiss. the bath will have to wait.

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

9: NEW DAWN

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You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.

Word count 3.3k

Warnings: reader coming to terms with Bucky's decision, trying to move forwards, betrayal, more miscommunication, anger, Bucky Barnes acting like a giant tool, Daisy Johnson and Melinda May make an appearance

The next morning you woke early, determined to carry out your plan. Slipping out of the compound, you drove out of the parking garage in one of the convertibles with the top down and wind blowing through your hair. It was freezing cold and you knew it was reckless because it looked like the heavens would open at any minute, but you didn’t care. You arrived at Coulson Academy just as several large raindrops started to fall, and you sniffed slightly from the cold air. Putting the top up, you got out of the car and ran for shelter under the large awning of the Academy entrance.

"Ugh!" You stopped to flick off the water from your jacket.

"Subtle entrance." Melinda May’s voice startled you.

You jumped out of your skin. "Jeez, May! Why do you always have to lurk around?"

"Wasn’t lurking. Just waiting for you."

"How did you know I was coming?"

"I heard about what happened."

"Steve?" you asked.

"Romanoff."

Of course it had been Nat. She knew everything that happened, she knew exactly what you would do. Maybe you ought to have talked to her before leaving.

"Why didn’t you stop me?" you asked.

"Because I knew you needed to make this decision on your own," May replied calmly. "And I knew you would come here eventually."

You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I don’t know if I’m making the right choice."

May placed a hand on your shoulder. "There is no right choice here. You need to take care of yourself for once, instead of putting everyone else’s needs before yours. Teaching at the Academy is something you would be good at. You have so much to offer, and… I believe in you."

You looked up at her, grateful for her support. She wasn’t one for heart to heart conversations, preferring to ignore her emotions altogether. "Thank you, May. I just wish it didn’t have to end this way with Bucky."

May gave you a knowing look, she knew exactly how you felt without you having to explain it to her. "Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to. But that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way."

"Can I stay with you for a while?"

May rolled her eyes, "fine."

You wrapped your arms around her in a quick hug. "You’re the best. I love you."

*

Natasha was waiting for you when you returned, lounging across the hood of one of the Porches, filing her nails.

"Tony won’t be best pleased if he sees you like that."

"I’m not too worried about Tony. I have more important things on my mind."

"Yeah?" you asked, knowing full well where the conversation was going.

"What happened last night?"

"Didn’t Steve tell you?"

"Rogers?" she scoffed. "He has no idea what he’s talking about half the time."

You looked around for signs of anyone nearby. The risk of having someone overhear your conversation was making you feel very uncomfortable. Natasha pulled you into a secluded corner with a view of the rest of the garage and gave you a very pointed look requesting that you spilled the beans. But somehow the words you wanted to choose made the problem seem trivial. So instead of telling her about all the events that had transpired, you kept it simple.

"He chose her. Apparently there isn't enough room in his life for both of us," you shrugged.

"Steve told me what she did." Your gaze snapped to Nat’s face, but her returning expression was angry. "I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him."

"It’s my word against hers, Nat. I have no proof that she took my idea. What am I supposed to say? His reaction last night proves that he doesn’t trust me." You sighed dismally.

"Do you need me to beat some sense into him?"

You smiled sadly at your friend.

"Sweetie, you need to tell him how you feel," she continued.

"I think it’s too late for that. I’ve made my decision."

"I can’t do anything to change your mind?"

"Please Nat," you pleaded. "This is hard enough."

She put her arms around your neck, leaning her forehead against yours. "But I’ll miss you."

"I’ll miss you too." You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug, trying not to let the tears start falling again. Eventually you pulled away, steeling yourself for the next step; telling Steve and Tony about your resignation.

*

As you made your way back into the compound, you caught sight of your best friend in the gym. He was pummeling a punching bag like he wanted to murder it.

You gathered every ounce of courage within you and approached Bucky, desperate to reconcile and recapture the bond you once shared. But as you reached out to touch his arm, he recoiled, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt.

"Bucky, please. I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way-"

"I thought I knew you, but I feel like I don’t know you anymore," he said, his voice laced with sorrow. "I know how you feel about Priya-"

"Buck-"

"I can see it in your face. But I never thought you could be so spiteful."

Your heart, already shattered, fractured further still, and the tears you had held back cascaded down your cheeks. Your friendship, once unbreakable, seemed irretrievable. Bucky turned his back on you, leaving you broken, lost in a sea of regret and longing.

*

After drying your tears, you found Tony and Steve in the common area, deep in conversation. Taking a breath, you approached them, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "Tony, Steve, I need to talk to you both."

Tony looked up, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong, Cricket?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I... I need to resign from the Avengers."

Tony's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before explaining. "I could make up some logistical excuse but you'll both know it's a lie. It's... it's because of Bucky. I can't continue to work alongside him knowing how I feel and knowing that he's with someone else. It's too painful for me."

Tony and Steve exchanged a knowing look before Steve spoke up. "We understand Cricket. We've seen how hard this has been for you. But are you sure this is what you want?"

You nodded, tears threatening to spill over. "I can't stay here and pretend everything is okay when it's not. I need to take a step back and figure things out."

Steve placed a comforting hand on your shoulder but he looked like he was at a loss for words. So he took the professional route of comfort. "You're a valuable member of the team."

"Stay, we can find you another partner." Tony stood up, coming over to you. "I can’t just let you go without a fight."

You smiled weakly, grateful for their understanding. "Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Tony. But I just need some time to myself."

As you turned to leave, Tony called out to you. "Hey Sport, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. We're here for you."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It was time to focus on yourself and your own happiness, even if it meant leaving behind the life you had known as an Avenger. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to move on from Bucky and find your own path to happiness.

You'd barely taken three steps out of the common room before Steve caught up with you. "Have you spoken to him?"

"If you call ‘him telling me he doesn't even know who I am and then storming off’ speaking, then yes. I don't understand how this happened, Steve. I thought nothing could get between us."

"He loves you." Steve stopped in front of you. 

"Not anymore. He hates me."

Steve couldn't help but feel frustrated by how his two best friends could be so oblivious. 

"Look Steve, I'm sorry, I know Bucky’s your best friend. You don't need to hear me bad mouthing him." You stepped around him, making your way back to your room.

"Cricket, you're my friend too." Steve chased after you.

"Then will you help me pack?"

Steve sighed, he would never refuse anyone’s request for help. "Of course."

*

It hadn’t taken you long to pack your things into boxes. Your clothes weren’t difficult to shove into suitcases. Your wardrobe wasn’t extensive, having learned to live out of small spaces for many years, material things weren’t quite on your list of necessities. You had let Tony decorate your walls to his taste and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how good he was at guessing your tastes. However, you’d decided not to take these things with you when you left. It was time for you to make your own home. It was going to be a new challenge, you’d been involved with large institutions ever since you’d left home, and had never had to create a home for yourself before.

You turned to face Steve, Sam, and Nat, who were all standing in your room, looking at you with concern in their eyes.

"Come on, sugar cakes. Isn’t there any way we can convince you to stay?" Sam asked.

"I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but I need to do this," you said, zipping up your suitcase.

"Cricket, you’re too valuable a member of the team," Steve said, stepping forward.

"You know that’s just not true, but thank you for saying that. But I just can’t stay here knowing that Bucky’s mad at me," you replied, feeling a sting in your chest at the thought of leaving your best friend behind.

"Bucky will come around, he always does," Sam chimed in, trying to reassure you.

"I don’t think so, not this time. He’s really upset with me," you said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

Nat walked over to you and put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Cricket, you can’t just leave because of this. You’re stronger than that."

You shook your head, wiping away a tear. "I can’t stay here, Nat. It’s too painful."

"We understand, but we don’t want you to go," Steve said, his voice filled with emotion.

"I know, but I have to do this. Please, don’t tell Bucky I’m leaving. I need to do this on my own terms," you pleaded, wondering if Bucky would even notice your absence.

The three of them exchanged a look before nodding in agreement. "Okay, we won’t tell him. But promise us you’ll keep in touch," Sam said.

You nodded, feeling grateful for their understanding. "I promise. Thank you, guys. I’ll miss you all."

You were the last to leave your room, the others had carried your things to the van you were borrowing from the garage. You sighed, you would miss the luxury and convenience that came with being a member of the Avengers Initiative. There were only a few things left in your room; the wolf plushie Steve had won you at Coney Island, you later realized that it reminded you of Bucky, and the still wrapped gift you had bought for Bucky, the card you’d written him still stuck to the top. There was no reason to take those things with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. You decided to leave them on your bed. The next owner of the room could decide what to do with them.

On your way out, you ambled past the hangar bay, spotting Bucky in full tactical gear prepping for a mission. You had no idea that he had been assigned to something. 

"You have a mission?" you blurted out, causing Bucky to turn to you.

"Yes." His voice was monosyllabic.

"Alone?"

"No."

"No, with me." Sharon materialized suddenly.

"Oh, hey Sharon. I hope you guys are safe out there."

Bucky looked back at you, a fleeting look of regret crossed his face, before he turned and walked away. He didn’t waste any time requesting a new partner, you thought. Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you anymore. At least he would be safe with her; Sharon was a good agent, she would watch his back, that’s what mattered the most.

As you walked out of the compound, you felt a mix of sadness and relief. It was time to start a new chapter in your life, even if it meant leaving behind the Avengers and the man you loved. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were determined to make it work. And maybe, just maybe, one day Bucky would understand why you had to go.

*

Your friend, Daisy Johnson stopped by for a visit just after you had moved into your new apartment. You hadn’t seen her for a few years, since she had decided to travel the stars with her sister, Kora and now boyfriend, Daniel Sousa. She had insisted on coming over to your place, since May had insisted that you find your independence.

"So tell me, what’s the deal with your love life?" Daisy enquired after her third glass of wine.

"What love life?" you asked, sarcastically.

She laughed, "oh come on! You’ve been living in a building with all those Avengers! You can’t tell me that it’s all completely innocent!"

"Hey, just because you fell in love with your first S.O.!"

"Ouch! That’s a low blow! It’s not my fault Ward turned out to be a HYDRA psychopath!"

"No, he was out of this world."

"Literally!"

Both of you laughed, despite the pain that was associated with the memories of the parasitic inhuman who had infested and possessed the corpse of your dead traitorous colleague and used his body to control other inhumans. Sometimes there was nothing else to do but laugh.

"So, are you telling me that you haven’t gotten any sex since you moved in there?"

You shrugged.

"Not even Bucky Barnes? Like have you seen him?" Daisy had always expressed her attraction to your favorite super soldier, but she stopped as she noticed the change in your expression. "What is it? Did something happen with him?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Then why did you leave?"

You shrugged.

"Come on, spill. May wouldn’t tell me. But it’s got something to do with him, right?" Daisy scrutinized your face, coming to sit beside you. "Did he hurt yo-?"

"NO!" you responded before she had the chance to finish. "Not like that."

"But he did something."

"Bucky’s my best friend." You said, not being able to muster enough enthusiasm into your words for them to be believable.

"But?"

"We just clicked, you know? Right from the start. It was like we were made to be partners. We could share everything with each other, we knew what the other person was going to do in the field without even discussing it. But outside of that too, I felt like I could share anything with him. I even told him about…"

You didn’t have to explain yourself further, Daisy Johnson was the only other living person in the world who knew about the sexual abuse you had suffered as a teen. You had never told a soul when you had been an adolescent, fearing that you wouldn’t be believed, which had led to a lifetime of shame and a stigma of being seen as broken. But secrets often come out, whether you want them to or not. And during a mission, the man who had been responsible for your trauma was involved. Eventually your secrets had surfaced, no matter how deep you buried them, but Daisy had been there for you.

"But I thought there might be something more between us, something… as hard as I tried… I couldn't deny - I was… am in love with him."

"You are?"

"I never told him how I felt. I was afraid of ruining our friendship. But it feels like fate had other plans and he started dating Priya. I was happy for him, of course, but deep down, I couldn't help but feel … jealous.

"And as his relationship with Priya went on, I just found myself feeling more and more envious. I couldn't stand the thought of someone else being with him, especially when I knew how I felt. But I kept my feelings to myself, not wanting to cause any trouble." You sighed.

"What changed? What made you leave?"

"Bucky's birthday. I spent weeks planning the perfect gift for him, something that would show him how much he meant to me. But before I could give it to him, Priya just swooped in and stole my idea, presenting it to Bucky as if she had come up with it on her own.

"Bucky was thrilled with the gift, but when he turned to me expecting something from me, I- I didn’t know what to do. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that Priya had taken my idea, so I stayed silent. Daisy, he was so angry and hurt, thinking that I didn't care enough about him to get him a gift.

"In the end, he chose Priya over me, believing that she cared for him more. He said he loved her based on something I came up with! And I tried to apologize and explain, but he didn't … doesn’t want to hear it. He said felt like he never knew me, like our friendship had been a lie. Now he doesn’t even want me in his life!"

Daisy put her arms around your neck, pulling your head onto her shoulder. The wine had loosened your tongue and talking through what had happened was helping you to truly understand what had happened.

"I can’t believe this bitch!" Daisy muttered in your ear. "Want me to quake her for you?"

You let out a watery chuckle. "I just feel so alone. I know that it’s my own doing, I could have told him how I felt. I could hardly blame her at first, she had no idea. But now…I fucking hate Priya for coming between us, for stealing my chance at happiness with Bucky." You scoffed at your own words. "You know, deep down, I knew that it was my own fear and jealousy that had drove us apart in the first place. I let my feelings get in the way of our friendship, and now I’ve lost the one person who means the world to me." Talking to Daisy had given you time to take stock and really process what you had lost.

"So what’re you going to do now?" Daisy asked.

"What am I supposed to do, Daisy?"

"Let him cool off and try again!"

"And say what exactly? Take me back as your friend? I’m in love with you? He clearly doesn’t feel the same way, so what am I achieving other than getting hurt watching him being happy with someone else?"

"You could come with me, Kora and Daniel. We’re heading back off-world next week."

"And watch you and Daniel making those lovey-dovey faces at each other all day? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass."

"So you’re just going to teach? With May?"

"Yeah," you shrugged. "Teach and wallow about my sad, loveless life."

"You know I love you, right?" Daisy pouted at you.

You laughed, "yeah, I love you too."

Once Daisy left, you continued to think about Bucky. You missed the easy camaraderie you once shared with him, the way you could finish each other’s sentences and laugh until your sides hurt. But now, there was a distance between you that seemed insurmountable. Bucky had made his choice and you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of your friendship. You wondered if he ever truly understood how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

[vxnuslogy]

— the angel who lived. ft sunday

— warnings: f!reader (referred to as mother) but still uses "you/they" pronouns, angst, mentions and themes of death, brief mentions of blood, very lengthy/word vomit (~8k words), not proofread that much so apologies for any grammatical errors

— author's note: this is more of a character study on sunday and how i think he'll come to learn that escapism isn't really the way go about things but overall, i'm really happy with how this turned out. i hope you guys enjoy :p

death doesn't have a requirement. regardless of age, gender, or race, it will eventually reach everyone at the right moment.

sunday has always remembered the words - or rather the rumors the dreamchasers spoke of - that when death comes knocking at their door, they'll be clad in purple and a trusty crow perched on their shoulder for a companion. sunday wasn't the type of man to believe such rumors, but now, after waking up from what seemed to be an endless dream, he was forced to believe their words.

“can the angel walk?” you spoke. emphasizing the way you called him angel made sunday furrowed his brows in contempt. you were mocking him. with a huff of his breath, he slowly rose from his  position and walked with you.

“where are we?” he asks. you looked at him from the corner of your eyes before replying. “death's waiting room.” sunday felt his blood run cold. “you'll be staying here with me and the rest until your time is up.” he wanted to question you more. press you for answers on when and where death will take him.

but he never had the chance to. not when children of all ages came rushing towards you, all with bright smiles on their faces. he stood in shock, mind boggled at the thought. they were hugging death. did they not feel any ounce of fear?

one of the many children that surrounds you took notice of his presence. she had long brown hair kept in two low pigtails and bright green eyes that remind him of the garden he and robin used to play in when they were just their age. she waved him over and you urged him to walk up the steps of the giant house that stood in front of him.

“you'll be staying here with us until your time runs out. do be an angel and help me around with the chores, alright?”

and so for an indefinite amount of time — and against his will — helped you around the “orphanage”. 

the younger children were all unruly and liked to cause trouble. every morning he'd wake up to a young child jumping on his bed and would be subsequently dragged into his bathroom to get ready. they'd tug at his hand with an iron grip - it really wasn't, sunday could easily pry his hand away but choose not to hurt the child’s feelings - leading him to the main kitchen where you and one of the oldest girls, elenaor he learned, cooked everyone breakfast.

“woke up on the wrong side of the bed, i presume?” your voice laced with amusement made sunday sigh. putting on the apron elanaor had given him, he reluctantly stood by your side and waited for you to hand him a few ingredients to chop. “it was more of woken up by a gremlin and getting dragged all the way here.” your and elanaor’s snickers of amusement never failed to make heat rise up to his cheeks. he had to fight the urge to hide behind his wings, if he did, you'll tease him relentlessly. this wasn't how he would normally act under any circumstances. he had a reputation to keep, but here, in what you call “death's waiting room”, no one knew him. so he was free to act how he wished.

“you've been here for a while,” turning off the tap, you pat your hands dry and walk towards a pot on the opposite side of where he was. “you'll get used to it.”

“i don't think seeing “death” act like a mother towards soon to be dead children is something i’ll ever get used to.”

the halovian bit his tongue the moment his words stumbled out of his mouth. he could still hear you moving around the kitchen but you had made no effort to respond. sunday was ready to issue an apology but you had beat him to it.

“it's something i’ve never really gotten used to.” the sound of chopping ceased from his station. the sound of water boiling echoed between the two of you - he hadn't realized that elanaor had left to escape the tense atmosphere - he turned to stare at your back, watching you dutifully stir the pot. something that reminded him of his mother. he wonders then, did you also take his mother here to this very orphanage. did she also chop ingredients as you stirred soup?

“i find that quite hard to believe…” his voice is uncharacteristically quiet and unsure. so unlike the voice of the head of the oak family.

you turn to him with a raised brow. “and why is that?” he walks to your station, chopped vegetables in his hand as he dumped them into the pots before putting the lid back on. “you look at home here. is this your home, death?”

you close your eyes and smile. “for a while, yes, yes it is.” 

sunday didn't question you further. the two of you quietly set the plates on the multiple tables in the dining room. he would often take glances at you, soaking in the black off shoulder top you wore under that frilly apron; the long muted purple skirt that swayed with your movement like it was your dance partner for years; and the most eye catching of them all, the black gloves you never took off. all of the sudden, sunday remembered this one particular rumor about you.

“they say before death became death, they carried life in their steps; but their fingertips eventually caused everything they touched to wither away.”

sunday wonders if that particular rumor is actually true.

elanaor came back with wary eyes flickering between him and you. with a small smile from you, the girl started taking the utensils from the cabinet and started laying them on either side of the plates. sunday will never get used to this almost domestic scene unfolding in front of him.

“breakfast is ready!” you cup your hand beside your lips as your voice echoed throughout the house. it wasn't long before little feet dragged against the wooden floor and started to pile in the dining room. “be sure to wash your hands first.” your gentle reminder was met with a chorus of ‘we remember!’. 

sunday stood idly in one of the corners, hands crossed over his chest as he started to remind himself of the next chores he'd be doing. sighing to himself, he pushed through his messy hair as his wings fluttered. without another word, he left the dining room and made his way to the backyard where there were piles of wet clothes waiting to be hung dry.

“oh! good morning, mr. sunday!” said a young boy with blonde hair and matching blue eye - the other covered with a black eye patch. “good morning, louis.” he replied with a smile before starting to take a few pieces of clothing and helping the boy with his chores.

“breakfast is ready,” sunday reminded. “i’ll take it from here.” louis shook his head and continued his actions. the older man didn't bother to urge him to get breakfast further. if there was one thing he learned by being here, it's that the children had adopted your stubborn and independent nature.

after hanging all the clothes, sunday bid louis to get breakfast - scolding him for trying to skip eating - and quietly made his way back to his room and plopping rather ungraciously on his bed with a sigh. his arm came to cover his eyes as he pondered, “when will death come to me?”

“not now, that's for sure.” 

sunday quickly sat up from his position to see you come inside his room, a tray with plated food in your hands.

“it's rather rude to enter someone's room without knocking first.” he barked. you only rolled your eyes at him and placed the tray on the small table in the middle of his room. “i did, but the angel seemed too lost in his thoughts to notice.” 

“be sure to finish everything. once your finished, bring them downstairs so i can clean them.”

and without another word, you exited his room. sunday sighed for the nth time today and made his way to the table, pulling a nearby chair and said his prayers before digging in.

he didn't want to admit it, but you were a good cook. every dish that you served him tasted like home; as if you had dug around his mind to take all of his nostalgic feelings and poured them all in the soup he was eating now. for “death's waiting room” it was ironically peaceful. sure the children would get into scuffles here and there, but without a fail, you'd come just in the nick of time and quell the burning banters.

but today you seemed distracted. sunday was an observant person by nature; he reads through people's emotion by the frequency they create and interpret them through the halo behind his head. recently, your usual soft yet peculiar frequency was replaced by something erratic; something that couldn't sit still. in the back of his mind, sunday wonders if it's related to the crow that's been following you like a shadow recently.

taking the tray in his hands, he made his way back downstairs to help you wash the dishes. on the way the children greeted him with bright smiles as they haul one another to play in your reading room, eager to pick out the bedtime story he or you would read later tonight despite it not being even noon. sunday didn't fight the small smile that crept up his face as some of the older kids tried to take the tray away from his hands, urging him to rest while they wash his plates.

“it's nothing to worry about.” he would reassure them with a pat on the head. “a few plates won't be the death of me.” 

by the time he was back in the kitchen, his chest began to feel heavy as you and elanaor talked. both your backs facing him but judging from the heavy and somber frequency you created, he could only assume you're talking about something sorrowful.

“angel?” you're voice snapped him out of his stupor. “apologies, i zoned out.” he avoided your eyes as he set the down his dirty plates to the side and pulled his sleeves up to his elbows.

“you alright?” you question him, a brow quirked up in wonder. he looked to elanaor who was already looking at him with worry, “i should be the one asking that, but i’m alright.” you only hummed as you wiped your hands on the spare cloth and took off your apron.

“i have something i need to do.” 

elanaor's frequency spiked making sunday’s heart skip a few beats. 

“ely, angel, can you keep an eye on the children? i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

“mother, wait!”

sunday felt his eyes widen as elanaor called you “mother”, dropping the plates she held on the sink and instead came to grip at your arm. her head hanging low as her hands curled into fists.

“does he need to go…?” she asks, voice below a whisper.

golden eyes met yours. sunday was trying to decipher how, or rather, why, your frequency suddenly flatlined, like how a heart would when someone passed. you were the first to break eye contact. leaning down to whisper something in elanaor's ear that broke the girl’s heart.

“angel.” your voice felt off too. it made his ears ring uncomfortably. it sounded like an untuned violin trying to play a complicated piece to impress the audience. “keep the children entertained while i’m absent.”

sunday didn't like you; he hated you. but right now, as you left the poor girl trying to harshly rub away the obvious tears spilling from her eyes, not bothering to turn back as you walked away, he decided he hated you even more.

—

“i understand. we’ll proceed like usual.”

your office was off limits to certain people for various reasons, but sunday and elanaor were exceptions. without turning to look back, you heard elanaor's voice from the other side of the door as you put the telephone down.

“come in.” you called out. the creak of the door always unnerved girl, you said you'd get it fixed but after the angel’s arrival you hadn't found any time to do so. “do you need something?”

“the children are asking for you.” this time it was the angel who spoke. his voice like a river flowing endlessly in a creak, you were distinctly aware that his kind had a natural affinity to having captivating voices. 

“i’ll be down in a—”

you were cut off as a crow started cawing and scratching at your window. from its reflection you see elanaor look down and sunday staring at you with a narrowed gaze. with a sigh, you circled around your desk and opened the window. the crow situated itself on your shoulder, a piece of paper tied around one of its foot.

“the two of you go ahead of me.” you spoke, taking the piece of paper from the bird. “i still need to finish this.”

from the corner of your eyes, you see elanaor leave but sunday didn't budge from his spot.

“something the matter, angel?”

“enough with the mind games, death.” 

he barged in your office, closing the door on his way and standing face to face with you. an angry fog clouding his eyes that reminded you of molten gold and sweet dreams.

“what's going on?”

“nothing is going on.”

“you're a terrible liar.” he snapped. you quirked a brow at him with a tilt of your head that made him even more furious. 

“so the angel can feel angry. that's good to know.” you turn your back on him and open up the piece of paper in your hand despite already having guessed it's content.

gaining back his composure, you heard him take a deep breath before trying to calmly question you further.

“what did you whisper to elanaor this morning?”

“i believe that's none of your business.”

“you—!”

sunday was ready to snap again but reigned himself in just in time for you to walk past him.

“if you're so curious,” you opened your office door and paused to turn back on him. “why don't you join us later tonight?”

“join you for what?” he didn't like where this one was going. the air felt heavy, it's as if the entire world were resting on his shoulders. it didn't helpt that you gave him a bitter closed eyed smiled as you left the room.

“one of our boys will be leaving soon.”

—

“and so, they all lived happily ever after…”

by the time you and sunday reached the reading room, children of all ages were all huddled into a cozy circle with elenaor in the middle. in her lap was an old storybook you had found in one of your travels.

you placed blankets on each and every children sleeping on their makeshift fortress of scattered pillows and stuffed animals.  brushing some of their hairs away from their eyes, letting your gloved hand linger on their faces for a while longer. all the while, sunday kept his gaze on you as elenaor stood by his side, storybook in her hands with an iron grip.

after tucking in everyone, you joined the two of them. you were the last one to exit the room. turning off the lights and letting your gaze loiter around the many sleeping faces in the now dark room.

“let's go.” you uttered with a sigh. taking the storybook from elanaor's hand and tucking it under your arms. “where are we going?” sunday asked who was a few paces behind you.

“we'll be bidding farewell to one of the older boys here.”

he didn't question you further like you had imagined, but you were grateful nonetheless. on the way you stopped by your office to take a candlestick and lit it up to serve as your guide through the dark house.

after climbing up a few steps, you stopped in front of an old rusting door. turning back to elanaor and sunday, you asked, “are you sure you want to be here?”

sunday was the first to answer. 

“you were the one to invite me.” he crossed his arms over his chest. he kept his eyes closed to hide the anxiety he felt, but the wings behind his ears betrayed him as they came to try and hide away half of his face.

you turn to elanaor who only nodded solemnly.

“death doesn't have a requirement..” you mutter as you open the door and enter the room. the two followed you inside and heard elenaor choking back on her tears. “it will eventually come to everyone, regardless of their age, gender, race.”

“death will find us all.”

in the cold and lonely room stood a bed, a boy with deadly pale skin laid there as he looked at you with a knowing look on his face.

“it's good to see you again, mother.”

sunday was at a loss for words as you sat down on the edge of the bed as you took off the gloves you wore and placed them on the bedside table along with the candlestick. the crow that was perched on your shoulder came to rest on the boy's bedframe instead.

“it's good to see you again too, corvy.” the sickly boy reached out his hand to pet the crow’s head but heaved a cough in the middle of the action.

the sound of his coughing urged elenaor to leave his side and run towards that other side of the bed opposite to yours. she gripped the sheets in a tight fist, sunday feared her palms would begin to bleed if she gripped any tighter.

“everyone's time eventually runs out…” you mutter as a strange red chord appeared in your hands the moment you touched the boy's forehead. “it's only a matter of when and how you're time runs out.”

“did you enjoy your stay here, michael?”

the boy named michael smiled with content. his boney hand holding yours that rested on his cheek.

“i did, mother.” you smiled at his response. the same smile you would greet the children with once they have woken up; the same smile the children would close their eyes to whenever you finished reading them a bedtime story. 

“that's good. i’m reassured that i did my job just fine.”

“you've always done a good job, mother.”

sunday couldn't believe his eyes. he didn't want to believe his eyes as your tears slowly cascaded down your face as you leaned down to press a kiss to the boy's forehead. elanaor jumping over to your side and hugging you tightly as her tears soaked your shirt.

your other hand came to hold the red string that was tied around the boy's sickly figure on the bed. you motioned your hand in a weird way and suddenly a pair of black scissors appeared. sunday felt his blood run cold as sweat dribbled down to his chin. 

“may destruction have mercy on you.” you whisper to him, forehead resting against his. “leading your journey in the afterlife, forever peaceful.”

“may this be the end of your painful dreams.”

and in the blink of an eye, the cord was cut and the boy closed his eyes.

sunday read the way his lips moved and felt his heart break in sympathy.

“may you have peaceful dreams, too, mother.”

—

you carried destruction — death — in your fingertips. ever since that night, sunday had kept his distance from you. he always kept his distance with you, but now, you would never catch him standing near your vicinity. 

the children found it strange. the two of you, without a fail, would always banter back and forth until the halovian had to leave to do other chores. some would turn to elenaor and ask what had happened between the two of you, but girl would only smiled with her eyes closed, pat them on the head and say “it's alright, they'll come around.”

but sunday thought otherwise.

how could death, shed any tears? it didn't make any sense. you were an emanator of destruction - he deduced from your words that night - death itself, so how come you brought life to the very house he and the soon be deceased children here?

they all considered you a mother. a mother. a parental figure they could go to to share their sorrows and woes. 

you couldn't possibly be the death he's come to know and fear, but at the same time you were. 

he wanted to hate you. hating you would be easier. it is easier. but his mind kept reminding him of the multiple times you would treat these children with the utmost gentleness. because you knew that one wrong touch could end their dreams.

“mr. sunday,” he looked up from his downcast position to look at elenaor. she'd been crying, sunday concluded. her eyes were red around the corners and she would sniffle from time to time. “will you be joining us for lunch?”

“ah…” he awkwardly turned his head away to hide the scratch that one of younger girls had accidentally given him. if she were to notice, elenaor would come bursting into your office to inform of his injury. “i’m feeling rather full as of now. I'm afraid i’ll have to decline.”

“i… see…” she only gave him a closed eyed smile. “well, goodbye then, mr. sunday.”

he waved goodbye to the girl who ran back inside the orphanage and sighed. hand coming to graze the cut on his left cheek and wincing as he did so.

“it'll get infected if you don't get that treated soon.”

sunday visibly froze, much to his dismay, as your figure emurged from his side. speak of the devil and they'll arrive, he thought.

“it's a scratch.” he weakly argued to which you only just hummed.

he kept his eyes on his hand playing with the grass as a shadow was cast over him. sunday flinched back when a gloved hand came to reach for his face, making him back up more to the tree he had been leaning on all morning. his actions startled you making you recoil your hand, all the while your hair obscured your eyes. but sunday swore he saw a flash of hurt in them. he felt guilty.

against his better judgement, his free hand came to hold yours in his. 

“sunday?!” you said in shock trying to pull your hand away.

your hand was warm. he wondered if they ever got sweaty and uncomfortable when the heat reached its peak, wearing black under the scorching sun didn't seem too appealing.

“you said my name.” sunday replied, making you furrow your brows. of all the things he took note of, it was the way you said his name. slowly, he let go of your hand and let it fall back to your side. you held such a strange expression on your face, but who was he to talk. he did something strange too.

with a sigh, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “come on, let's get that scratch of yours a bandaid.” 

sunday walked quietly with you as you navigated to the house’s makeshift infirmary. on the way there, children looked at the two of you with wide eyes and quickly rushed to each other's side to have hushed conversations.

“sit down.” you command and he followed.

the following minutes were spent in silence. you scavenging for a bandaid and some disinfectant, while he sat on the bed watching you move from one place to another.

“look to the right for me, angel.” your voice instructed him. this time, it wasn't your usual soft tone, nor was it the mellow and somber one on that night. it was more monotone this time around but still held some semblance of what he assumed was “fondness”.

your fingers carefully dabbed the cotton on his scratch before placing a bandaid over it. sunday noticed you didn't let your touch linger on his face like how you would when you patched up some of the kids when they got their own injuries.

“do you sing?” sunday asked on a whim, making you pause as you put away your tools. “what brought this on?” you question with a tilt of your head.

“louis and i heard someone humming the other day.” his finger grazed the fresh bandaid on his face. gold eyes never leaving your figure as you turned to look at him. “he told me you often hummed some of the children to sleep.”

“there's your answer then.”

sunday wanted to throw a pillow to your face. with an aggravated sigh, he stood up and followed you out the door.

“would it kill you to try and answer directly?”

“maybe.”

before you could step out of the infirmary, a pecking noise came from one of the windows, stopping sunday and you in your tracks.

you left his side and opened the window and let the crow inside the room. like the first time, it sat on your shoulder as you unraveled the piece of paper it handed you.

“will another child be leaving?” he mumbled. you walk towards him again and the both of you walk out of the infirmary. “everyone in this orphanage will leave.” your eyes met his and sunday pondered on what was going on in your mind.

“including you?”

“yes.” your answer was unexpected. “including me.”

“how so?”

“i’m no exception, angel.” there you were again, calling him by that blasted pet name. he couldn't fight the urge to roll his eyes as he followed you to the library. “i may bring death, but death will eventually come for me one day.”

“will someone replace you once you're gone?” 

you only nod your head in agreement. hands grazing the many spines of the books that make up your library.

“ely would probably replace me.”

sunday pressed his lips to a firm line. in his mind, it made sense. elanoar was undeniably the closest child to you. she even accompanied you and him when michael departed, and he could only imagine how many children she's seen leave this orphanage in that room.

“they aren't really children, you know.”

the gray haired man furrowed his brows in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“you know what dreamscapes are, right?” he nods and follows you to sit down on one of many seats in the library beside the window. “people sleep and enter this fantastical world created by your predecessors. this place is similar. the reason why i call it “death's waiting room”, is because it's actually a waiting room.”

“do you mean…” sunday paused, trying to connect all the pieces you've given him. “these… children… they probably aren't children. they're people who've fallen asleep and are waiting for death.”

“exactly.” you flip through the pages of the book you had taken from one of the shelves. every page was filled with different words in elegant cursive handwriting. “right now, you're in a dream. waiting for your time to run out. waiting for death to come to you.”

“then, if that's the case, when will you cut the cord of my life?”

“even i don't know the answer to that.”

“is my name not written on the paper your companion gave you?”

you shook your head. “then how do you know when someone's time is up?” you take a few minutes to organize your thoughts, trying to think of a way to explain it, but in the end you couldn't.

“i don't know.”

“you don't know?!” sunday snapped. hands crashing on the wooden table as he stood up. his eyes were furious at you, making you sigh. “i’m not a god, angel.” you snap the book shut in hand. the sound echoing in the empty library as sunday sat back down. 

“i may bring death to everyone i touch, but i am no more than a pawn in the grander schemes of things.”

“even i don't know why death comes to take the lives of us humans.”

sunday was speechless as he looked at you. you looked tired — absolutely exhausted — just like how his sister would describe him whenever he refused to leave his office back in penacony.

“i… apologize..” he bowed his head in shame. “i don't normally lose my composure like this.”

“it's fine.” he heard you sigh. “everyone grows on edge when death is waiting outside their door.”

“do you have to cut the cord?” 

what a silly question, you must've thought. but sunday wanted to know even if what he was asking was inevitable.

you only smiled bitterly in response.

“even i fear the consequences of death, angel. i have to.”

sunday felt sick in the stomach when dinner approached. his ears ringed with your response, that you too, will eventually meet your end. it made him sick, and he didn't want to admit it. 

he didn't come down to the dining room as usual. he expected elenaor to knock on his door, carrying a tray of food, something she's been doing after michael’s departure. but this time, when he opened the door, he had to stop you from stumbling inside his room as elenaor kept pushing you inside even with her hands occupied.

“elenaor..?!” you both whisper yell to the girl.

“you two need to talk!” she said with a huff. you winced when she dropped the tray of food on his table. “everyone's been worried about you two, y'know.” you both look away, sunday scratching his cheek while you were blatantly ignoring the girl as she put her hands on her hips.

“mother,” she called out to you but you pretended to not hear. “mother!” she said a little louder, now standing in front of you as she tugged and whined for you to acknowledge her. “you're so mean, mother!”

sunday’s wings hid the growing smile and laughter that was bubbling in his chest at the comical sight. 

your cold facade was cracking with the way your lips were curving upwards; eyes pooling with mirth as the girl continued to scold you for some odd reason.

“and you!” elenaor pointed at sunday with her finger. he saw you snicker under your breath, fist in front of your lips, a futile attempt to hide your amusement. “you're supposed to be the more mature one between the two of you!”

“i am?” he points to himself with a tilt of his head. “yes!” she replied with a huff. elanaor made her way to the door, but not without giving the two of you another half attempt to glare. “by tomorrow, the two of you should be back to normal!” and for good measure, she slammed the door shut on the both of you.

the room was quiet, that is until, your giggles filled the room. your poor attempt in stopping your laughter made sunday's eyes go wide in shock, though he didn't know why. you always laughed in the house. be it from the teasing you always do to him and the other kids or by something else, you were always a giggly person.

but this was different. sunday just knew this was different. the way your eyes crinkled and shaped itself into little crescent moons and how tears of pure joy would escape every now and then. and your smile, aeons your smile. that smile didn't belong to death, it belonged to you.

sunday's laugh rang like church bells, you had to double check if what you were hearing was real. the two of you shared a moment of silence before erupting into fits of giggles again. the sound reminded you both of children running around the orphanage, playing kings and queens, monsters and knights, and the laughter that came after all the playing.

“what a strange girl she is.” sunday said after coughing into his fist. he had to reign himself in when you laughed in reply. “she is. but she's my strange girl.” 

your eyes lingered on the door the younger girl had slammed. they held such fondness, sunday wouldn't have guessed the “death” he's always been afraid of would be so loving.

“well, now that's done.” you wipe away any stray tears left and motion sunday to his food. “eat. louis told me you hadn't eaten lunch. you must be starving.”

sunday sat down on the chair while you sat on the edge of his bed. smoothing out any creases on his blanket as he ate his food. every once in a while, he'd look at you between bites and still see that smile present on your face. 

“you should smile more.” he said before wiping his lips on the towel elanaor had kindly prepared his food with.

“i could say the same to you, angel.” you look back at him. the same soft smile still on your lips as the streams of moonlight in this beautiful dream started to fill in the gaps of the window in the room, bathing you in a glow that made you look divine. “you look more handsome when you smile.”

he coughed into his fist as you laughed. wings coming to try and cover his face and hide his flustered state. 

“i never… took you one for compliments.”

you tilt your head curiously, “do i not look like the type to give compliments.” sunday shook his head. hair and wings following his movement that made you swoon inside, it was nothing short of adorable. seeing the always composed mr. sunday stuff his face with the food you cooked for him.  

this wasn't good. but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

“you're wrong then.” you say as you let yourself fall onto his bed.

“are you fond of children?”

“well, i wouldn't have gone through all this trouble by creating this dream if i wasn't.”

“just answer me directly, death.”

you laugh again in response. how strange it was, that the name “death” the halovian would always use to describe you no longer sounded hostile.

“yes.” you said softly. “i’m very fond of them.”

“why?” he questions. you hear the sound of plates and utensils move around and it wasn't long before another weight made the bed dip from the other side. “everyone dreams of having their own family, angel. i’m no exception.”

you closed your eyes for a moment before they open again in bewilderment as you looked to your side.

your right hand, still with it's glove on, was being held by sunday's own hands. his thumbs and index finger would tug at your fingers before his palm settled in your own. 

you could hear the way your heart was beating in your ears. “do you not fear death, angel?” you ask as you let the man play with your hand like a child.

“i do.” he answered. you felt the bed dip and shift as he turned to lay on his side. “but recently, i've come to know them very well.”

you close your eyes again. letting the feeling of sunday tracing shapes in your palms lull you into a momentary sleep.

“what is death like, if you've gotten to know them very well.”

“death is a scary thing.” he paused, making sure you were listening. “i tiptoed around it back at home, like how two siblings would've tried to hide from their father when they played hide and seek.” 

“i didn't believe death existed until it took something - someone - very important away from me. it was the first time in a while did i felt the fear and fury of it all being poured into my body.”

“do you hate death, angel?” you ask, still not opening your eyes.

“i do.” he answered with no hesitation, making you scoff. “death is impatient, not waiting for me to finish my explanation before jumping to conclusions.”

alright, you admit, he got you there.

“i hate death. i don't ever want to experience it anytime soon. it takes and it takes, and i don't want it to take anything important away from me ever again.” you felt sunday weave your fingers together as he spoke. “but i learned that death, also gives.”

“death is a lot kinder than i imagined. they didn't snarl or bite - but they did tease and scoff - at me. they're fond of children, much to my surprise. treating them with the utmost care and gentleness, even i believe i don't possess.”

“death, though not intentionally, showed me that even beautiful dreams can cause suffering. something i've refused to believe — to acknowledge — for the longest time.”

“are you scared?” you ask. opening your eyes to turn to lay on your side as well. not letting sunday's hand slip away from yours.

“no, not anymore.” somehow, you could almost see the smile his handsome face wore. “because death is gentle when someone's time is up.”

“what if they aren't gentle with you?”

“well,” he only chuckles. “death is gentle with me right now, are they not?”

ah, he got you again.

—

sunday, from a very young age, was taught that dreams were one of the many ways that the gods used to convey their intentions to mankind.

all his life, sunday had seen the ugliest side of humanity and yet he wished nothing but the best for them. he dreamed of creating a paradise where humanity no longer had to fight for survival; the strong wouldn't grow stronger nor will the weak grow weaker. everyone would be equal. 

sunday's existence was to be everyone's savior; their saving grace in this perpetually cruel world. he would willingly spend the rest of eternity in solitude if it meant that others could live in a paradise, free from all misery and suffering.

he's never seen anything wrong with wanting to escape; taking the easy way out. who would want to be in pain after all.

you would.

why does life slumber? he always asks — he wanted to ask you but never got that chance to. 

“we slumber because we don't want to wake up. we do not wish to see a painful and unfair tomorrow. we want to hold on to this beautiful dream where everything is alright. because we fear the future, we don't wish to wake up. the future is not kind, not to everyone. we will lose everything.”

“but we still have to.”

jolting awake, sunday pressed his hand over his chest where his heart was beating erratically, its sound ringing uncomfortably in his ears. no longer was he in the orphanage he'd grown accustomed to. now, he was all alone, in a damp, cold, and dark room.

“can the angel walk?”

twisting his head to the side, there you sat. the same black off shoulder top, muted purple skirt, and your companion perched on your shoulder as you close the book in your grasp.

you smiled at him. “so the angel can wake up, good to know.” your words ring in his ears. it feels nostalgic, a sudden sense of deja vu, but it left him with a feeling of doom as you walked to stretch a hand to him.

sunday took it with a moment of hesitation. he let himself be pulled up with your help and let you lead him somewhere else.

“where are we?” he asks.

“in reality.”

his eyes narrowed in a confused glare. 

“what happened to the orphanage?” he didn't like the quietness of everything. he couldn't read your emotions, frequency practically nonexistent. “gone. everyone left.”

the ground shook along with his heart. he couldn't properly process the way you took hold of his hand and began to run straight into the darkness.

he was scared. he was so uncontrollably scared with what you've done because why…. why was he still alive?

“pick up the pace angel.” you turn your head to him. a teasing smile on your lips trying to hide the panic and terror in your eyes. “don't tell me the angel forgot how to run?”

“what's going on…”

“nothing's going on.” there you were again, avoiding the question; leaving him guessing in the dark.

against his instincts — the nagging voice in his mind to follow you and run — he pried his hand away from yours and skid to a stop. 

“angel?!” you shout in confusion. your panic doubled as the ground shook more and more.

“you can't just keep me in the dark, death.” his hands balled up into fists at his sides. the look of foreboding did not suit you, he much preferred your easy going natured smile. “i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on.”

what a stubborn child, your mind replayed. eyes fogging up with an unreadable emotion.

“alright,” you say calmly. “how about a game then?”

sunday looked confused but stayed patient with you. something you're not used to.

“let's play a round of tag. you're it. if you tag me, i’ll tell you everything.”

“this isn't a game, death.”

sunday had come to the forlorn conclusion that he didn't even know your name.

“all is fair in love and war.” your voice matched your somber eyes. 

what did you mean in love and war? what love? what war?

“come on now, angel, can't you just play one game with me?”

his adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his fears down along with his hesitation.

“okay.” he said. “let's play, but just one game.”

you smiled in thanks. “on my count, we run.”

.

“three.”

.

“two.”

.

“one.”

.

“RUN!”

and so the both of you did. you ran with such vigor, sunday felt that he'd lose here. lose the chance of finally knowing the truth.

“don't give up on me now, angel. we're almost there!”

your laughter echoed in the dim lit corridors of this nightmare that seemed to never end. but the way a crown of light bathed you, sunday felt his feet push further and further until they burned from the pain.

you kept smiling back at him. the childish smile he'd always see on the faces of the many children back in the when they also played tag. you would always be “it” and tagged one child to another, leaving you the victor by the end of it all.

but this time, sunday would rise victorious.

“brother!”

sunday skid to a stop as a body slammed on his own, nearly making him stumble down. a warm embrace enveloped him, the same embrace that woke him from his dreams of order back in penacony.

“it's mr. sunday!”

“are you alright?”

everything was too fast. one moment he was playing tag with death and now he's reunited with his sister and the astral express crew.

“robin…” he quietly murmured. arms snaking to hug his sister tightly as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “i’m here, brother.”

sunday let a smile break out of his face as he let robin check up on him. laughing at the way she weakly punched him on the chest.

“it's a good thing you're unharmed, mr. sunday.” welt said, fixing his glasses. “it took us quite a while to find you, but i’m glad our efforts weren't in vain.”

sunday furrowed his brows. “what do you mean?”

“after your disappearance in penacony, me and the astral express crew had joined forces to track you down.” robin explained.

“i… see…” sunday pondered if the reason they weren't able to find him was because he was inside your dream.

wait.

“death?!” he shouted into the space but no one answered. he was sure that everyone was looking at him weirdly as he lightly pushed robin to the side to try and look for you.

“death?!” the pink haired girl exclaimed. “what's going on mr. sunday?!”

before sunday could respond, another tremor broke out.

“brother!”

something flashed in sunday’s mind for a quick moment. his mind replayed the first time he arrived at “death's waiting room”, how he was forced to do chores and help around, tell the children bedtime stories and tuck them in for bed. how the first night he witnessed death made his stomach swirl with uncontrollably fear and how “death” itself cried for the departed.

he remembered how elanaor barged into his temporary room and pushed you in. how he ate his dinner in silence as you smooth out the creases on his bed. how, against his own judgement, came to lay on the bed and hold your hand that he couldn't believe brought upon ruin to someone's dream.

“it's time to wake up, sunday.”

sunday felt a body hug him tightly before he was pushed out of the way. in a quick flash, a red cord wrapped around him and death before it snapped.

the loud clamor of a giant gate dropping made his ears ring. sunday felt his breath quicken as he ran to the metal gate and slammed his fist against it in a poor attempt to get it to open.

“death!” another slam of his fist. “death you said you'd explain!” and another. “don't leave me in the dark!”

sunday felt his breath becoming shorter and shorter.

and how his heart dropped when crimson started to slip through the cracks of the metal gate.

“you didn't tag me, so i still win.”

“no…” another slam of his fist, louder than ever. “no! death hang on, we can save you!”

“you can't.”

“you don't know that!”

the trailblazer came to pry him away from the gate but he persisted.

“i know death better than anyone else, angel.”

“you…!” sunday felt his legs give out on him. he could only gaze at the way your blood pooled at the floor. “what did you do…”

you chuckled. “i never thought i’d die for someone else, you know.” sunday's caught wind of the cawing noises on the other side of the gate.

“no…”

“who would've guessed i would die for your sins.”

“the papers…” and you only hummed to confirm his suspicion.

there was one thing that sunday noticed whenever s child needed to depart: your companion will always bring you a piece of paper with their name written on it.

“my name…” he weakly muttered. “i was supposed to die…”

“you were.”

were. you didn't kill him.

the papers that started to pile in your office and the way your companion never once left your side; they way that never - not even once - have you taken off your gloves off whenever you fondly brushed his bangs away from his eyes or the way you let him hold your hands.

you didn't kill him.

the room shook again, this time stronger than the previous ones.

“we need to leave, now!” the navigator shouted.

sunday felt his body being supported as the trailblazer slung one his arms over his shoulder.

“fly. fly far, far, away from here sunday; you're free now.”

how ironic it was, that you, “death” itself, would die for a man who tried to go against the principles of the aeon he claimed to follow.

you brought the head of the oak family to your waiting room, waiting for the moment when his name would be delivered to you so could cut the cord of his life. but you never did.

“you're no longer guilty, your sins have been cleansed.”

you didn't want to let him go, as he did with you when he held your hand that night.

“i’m sorry i couldn't be gentle like you hoped for. but this was the only way.”

“i hope you finally understand that human suffering is inevitable. that even when we're in pain we still find a way to value our lives.”

“we are not gods, angel, we don't get a say in what happens to humankind. but i hope you'll come around to accept that it's what makes us all human. remember us — me — with fondness in mind.”

sunday will never come to know death, because death died for him and his sins.

“i hope you enjoyed your time with death, sunday.”

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

#✒️ — works #—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail angst #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail imagines #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday angst #sunday imagines #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #star rail x you #hsr angst #hsr x you #hsr x reader

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno Prompts May-hem (get it?!); cw for more violence than I usually do, ymmv. Also I have a feeling this one shows my American-ness more than most, so uh, sorry? ^^;]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) 15: nightmare

'This,' John mutters to himself as he eyes the flashing red on the departures board, 'is a bloody nightmare.'

Sherlock frowns beside him. 'We're being shunted to a less direct route. Inconvenient, but hardly the stuff to disturb one's sleep.' 

John closes his eyes momentarily. By and large, he's a good fit for Sherlock's behaviours, even when they're--especially when they're?--somewhat off the beaten path. But sometimes he doesn't have the energy. He just doesn't.

They've been on a literally cold case in Nowhereton, Bumfuckshire, and although the jewellery was found and no one was hurt John could absolutely murder a home-brewed cup of tea. And he would very much like to hold his daughter.

'Don't worry, John, you'll be home to her soon,' Sherlock says to him as they board the overstuffed train. They're not the only ones whose night has been sidetracked, literally, but John's empathy is thin on the ground as he jostles his way to two open seats, fantasising about going for a rugby tackle if someone else gets their first.

Sherlock ends up doing the tackling, though, because he gives not one damn about how train passengers view him. And it's not really a tackle, just a Very Cold Look. And maybe a thrown elbow.

Amused, at least a little, John takes his seat.

They manage to get an hour in before it all goes to hell.

---

The sound of the train car sliding over something besides tracks is the first thing that happens -- and really it's more of a feeling than a sound, somehow.

At first.

'Sherlock,' John says quietly, his stomach twisting. 'What was that?'

'Likely just--'

But Sherlock is interrupted by a great dirty shake, like the train is a snake trying to shed its skin in a big ugly hurry.

'Shit,' John mutters, feeling adrenaline flood his system. 'Hang on to something.'

---

John doesn't wait until the dust clears; he's out of his seat and beating his way through the door at the end of the car the second there's stillness beneath him. Their coach is still on the tracks, but he somehow knows that those ahead of them are not so lucky.

The emergency lights are on, but they're flickering and John has to squint as he makes his way through. His gaze sweeps around and he listens hard, but everyone in the car seems to be suffering from merely shock, bumps and bruises, minor things.

The next car is where shit gets real. The angles are all wrong, and he can see several people tangled in an awful unnatural embrace with metal pieces popped out from seats and side rails.

'Jesus,' he hears himself mutter. 'This is not ideal.'

Sherlock is right behind him, which he'd known but not paid any attention to. 'Triaging a hoard of exhausted people in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere with no avenues of immediate escalation?'

'Yeah, like I said. Not ideal.' 

Sherlock opens his mouth, but John has no time for whatever witticism is about to be gifted upon the world, so he steps away from the detective and further into the chaos.

He raises his voice, but tries to keep it calm. 'Hello, everyone. My name is John, I'm a medical doctor, and I'm here to help.'

---

It's a long fucking night. Four dead, a couple dozen injured. One cannot save them all.

---

Hours later, the sun peeking over the horizon and Molly sacked out on the couch, he's about to pivot onto the staircase to his room when Sherlock puts a hand on his elbow. 'Let's wash up first,' he says, voice low and firm. 'Your daughter doesn't need to see you covered in blood, even if it's someone else's.'

'God damn it,' John mutters, knowing Sherlock is right but hating it; his skin itches with the need to see his little girl. 'Fine, but quick-like.'

He sheds his jacket and button down, which had got the brunt of it, on the way to the toilet, then barely looks at himself in the mirror as he runs a flannel over his face and scrubs at his hands. Sherlock is quiet beside him, handing him soap and cloth when needed, without prompting.

John finishes, then looks up at him. 'Aren't you coming?'

Sherlock's face-- well, It does something very complicated before smoothing out into a small smile. 'All right, let's.'

---

Anticlimactically, Rosie barely stirs when John picks her up. His limbs are finally able to shake out the events of the last twelve hours, and he feels Sherlock's arms around him and beneath her like a bridge truss, supporting them both.

John breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of his daughter and his flatmate. His-- his family, he thinks, trying the word out.

'Stay,' he says quietly, not looking away from Rosie. 'Just-- Stay?'

Sherlock hums for a moment, then answers like it was never in question. 'Of course.'

They don't consider pyjamas, instead curling around each other's dusty skin in pants and vests while murmuring about inconsequential things, domestic things that send warmth spiralling through John to replace the chill that had settled in somewhere during the journey they've just finished.

'I do have one question,' Sherlock says finally, the words warming the skin at John's neck.

'Go on.'

'As you know, many common understandings about the English language, particularly when it comes to colloquialisms, are not part of my… erm, base worldview.'

'Right, I am aware.'

'So I'd like to confirm: When you called the train delay a nightmare, you were exaggerating for humour, and when you called the derailment "not ideal," you were…'

John chuckles tiredly. 'Being English.'

'Being facetious.'

'Yes.' He pauses, fingers in Sherlock's mildly tangled hair. 'Sometimes, it's all that gets you from one moment to the next. One body to the next.'

Sherlock murmurs a noise, and John feels his embrace tighten. 

'Well,' the detective finally says, voice deep and sleepy. 'Besides all that, I really must say that watching you in action was quite... informative.'

'Oh? In what way?'

'Informing me that I find your medical competency viscerally pleasing.'

John huffs a surprised breath. 'Yeah?'

'Mm-hmm. You're very good, and it's very attractive.'

'Noted,' John murmurs, eyes closed. 'Next time.'

'Mm-hmm.' Sherlock's palm is warm on his solar plexus, and John doesn't think twice as he succumbs to a deep, quiet sleep.

[❤️]

[a/n- I have not been in a derailment, but I have been in a train car when it ran over a live human being going 70mph, so forgive me for not being keen to research the former for the sake of accuracy.]

ETA OH GOD I forgot the best part! My inspiration for this piece:

#BBC Sherlock #May Prompts 2024 #mayprompts2024 #It's gonna be MAY 2024 #kind of a downer despite starting as a funny tweet #Very British Problems

[styxwanderer]

The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland [pt.5]

part 1 Part 2 part 3 part 4 <part 5>

[Chaos ensues]

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*

Azul is waiting patiently, seated in his office as he tap his feet.

“How long can they take? ..”

“Don’t tell me that bastard Jade and Floyd is stealing them for themselves.” The thought of that make him shot up his soft cushioned seat as the rush through grabbing his coat, hat, and walker. 

“Must i be the only one who do the job?”

Just halfway through the room his door slammed open.

“Azul, Shrimp-cat is here~”

“O what’s this?” Jade chuckled

“Are you losing your faith on us?” He smirked

“Ehem.. no i simply thought you are late, and of course i have to greet our esteemed guest.”

“Of course, we are sorry for our late arrival. Y/n is here.”

You ears peeked out of Jade’s shoulder before you head. You had been changed to octavinelle uniform, curtesy of Jade whom had said the Scarabia uniform is going to make you catch a cold, how kind is this eel.

“Oo! Azull!! Hello!!” You are carried piggy back by jade.

It seems the cupid is very busy today ad he kept shooting arrows at all these wolves you meet. Give him a break pleaseee..

“Ehem..” Azul cough trying to gain his composure back.

“Now.. how would you like to stay in Octavinelle?.. i had all the documents here and of course a scroll for you to sign consent.” He pushed you to the seat, he then walked over to the seat across from you pulling out the documents and of course the golden scroll. 

Jade and Floyd sandwiched you to your seat. 

You are just happy, because the close proximity just warms you up. 

“Hmm… i’ll think about it..” you nonchalantly answered. 

“ think about it, we will feed you, give your daily brushing, Jadi will even massage you, all you need to do is work for monstro lounge and stay with us.”

“Hmm.. i got a lot of promising offer today you know.”

“Then how about this, i will give you a sample, let today be a trial for you.”

“ Alright!”

You could see azul grabbing his feathered pen and writing something.

That feather pen swish and swings, gaining your focus. You slitted eyes following where ever they go.

“A.. y/n! What are you…?!” you hoped onto the table as you try to catch the pen. Azul shocked as he tries to keep you away from the pen. He put his pen up high away from you.

“Hey.. no! bad! Its dangerous!”

You are to focused on the feathered pen you pouched to where ever the pen is, disregarding any safe precaution at all This caused the chair to tilt up before falling down, Azul holding your waist as he could feel the chair falling. Azul fall to his back joining the chair and you landing on top of him waist held in an embrace.

You managed to catched the feathered pen though!

You start to sit up on top of Azul pridefully grinning as you show them you catched your prey. Azul is fozen, heart beating at a 1000000 Mph. The things you did to him. Flushing fool he has become as he stammered unable to form eligible sentences, his poor brain running while, The chest that is pressed into his face whist you both fall and now you sitting above him.

“AAaaaaa…” he covered his flushing face. Unable to take it anymore, he wished to crawl back to his octopot.

Jade and Floyd shocked expression turn into an amused one.

“Ehh~ Azul, no fairr! I also want them to squeeze me like that! Y/n, Y/n Squeeze meee! Squeeze me!” Floyd whined picking you up as he hold you in his embrace. This boy is going to squeeze you tight for being too adorable.

“Ahahaha, would you look at that, you had made Azul’s face resembles a boiled octopus.” He approached his brother who is hugging you from the bad while carrying you like a plushie, he poked your face.

“it will be more fascinating when you are around.”

You dreaded that hug time is over as you wiggle out of his hold, running away from them with the feathered pen.

“Waitt..!!” Azul saw your fleeting form, but it is too late you had gone away.

“ Jade, Floyd after them.”

“ Of course, Azul.”

“Yeahh, I still want more cuddles..”

“it seems like they definitely need a collar.” Azul sigh

“for ownership reason too of course.” He chuckle as he open the second drawer of his desk, there lay a pretty purple and blue tosca collar with a shiny golden conch for you to wear. Don’t question him why he had gotten it, for the record he just does.. ehem…

“just you wait..”

Now to wonder where you are, You had decided you need a well deserved nap on a comfy spot, which is on top of the drawer for metal plates used for cooking meals. You smack the bowls blocking your way as you lay down ready to take a good well rested nap.

“ A! There she is~ look Jade they are resting on top of the drawer.” Floyed mused.

“ Oh my look at the mess you have made!”

“y/n get down this instant.” Azul sternly demanded.

“ no!”

Then comes the spray bottle.

“Myahh!!”

“come down or ill spray more of it.”

Growing irritated you see your surrounding founding more metal plates and bowls, then an idea pops your mind, mischevious smile plastered on your face. You grab smack them near the edge.

“y/n..”

“no..NO”

“ Don’t you dare!”

CLANGGGG!

You had smack them strong enough to land on top of the octopus’s head.

Jade and Floyd started laughing of course before you also smack these bowls on top of their head. Laughing menacingly above,

“Oh what a brave cat you are, So brazen enough to do such a thing.”

“Maybe we should teach you one or two about who is on top of the food chain~”

“A well deserved lesson indeed.”

You had realized you fucked up as the two eels trying to climb up to where you are, it is not at all difficult for them of course since they are basically large and tall monsters.

You shrieked as you look for a way out, then you see Azul.

“ What ever you are thinking Sto—” You puched towards him of course landing you a couple of water spray but it is a better faith than being in the hands of the tweels.

Azul has fallen into his back with the water spray as you pounced out of the way towards the door.

“Waitt!! Don’t runn!!”

“Is this a game of chase? You want to play cat and mouse? More like eel and cat? Hahaha~”

“if the esteemed guest want to play, we need to mused then don’t you tink so Floyd.”

“Of course~”

You bolt as fast as you can away, out of the mirror and into a net..?

“Ooo! Look the prey has landed into the net!” Ruggie said.

You are left speechless and confused.

“Now be a good prey and silently come with me alright, Shishishi…. admit your defeat, Kitty.” He carried you still on the net, “Now we better move quickly, don’t want that tweels to gang up on me now.” He ran with you on the net, thrown over his back, as he ran and jumped to Savanna dorm.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Meanwhile with Azul,

“Ah, where can she be..” Azul annoyed as the tweels come back empty handed. Poor Azul he hasn’t even seen you in the collar he brought for you.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Meanwhile in Savannaclaw,

“A.. ruggie, Good you have taken the kitten home.”

“ Give them these.”

“ okay!”

You are pushed into a room with savannaclaw dorm set clothes and are locked there until you changed out of your monstro lounge uniform.

Once you finish you knock to be let out of the room,

“I knew you’d suit better with our uniform, afterall we pack stick together right, Ruggie.”

“tots!”

Ruggie has been wanting you to move to savannaclaw ever since the overblot incident, He find Leona to be docile around you, distracted by you, making him do less work, Not only that you helped him with chores too, your presence really give him that fuzzy warm feeling.

“but its coldd, your uniform have no sleeves.” You shivered.

“come here.” Leona embraced you as to share body heat.

“Leona, What should I do with this fishy clothes.”

“Hmm, give them to me.”

“King’s roar!” The clothes that has just been placed into his hand turned into sand.

“Ruggie put these sand into a box and kindly send them to that octopus. We need to be courteous, afterall, they did give us something precious. I will go back to sleep”

“Shishishi.. Roger that.”

The sand was placed neatly on a colourful present box before being shipped away to the merfolk.

“Now-“

BANGGG!

Leona and Ruggie turned their head towards the source of the loud voice, questioning whatever the hell that is. Ears perked up and in a tense formation.

“I knew it must’ve been you!” Azul crossing his arm, he was accompanied by Jade and Floyd.

“ Oo.. you are right on time, we were just going to send you a gift.” Leona smirked.

“ A gift you say?”

“ Ruggie..”

Chuckling ruggie give him the colourful present.

“ Go ahead open it..”

Azul eyes went wide as he open the box.

“ What’s this? Sand? Don’t tell me!”

He then look up to see u in savannaclaw uniform

“ How brazen of you, Jade, Floyd it seems we got some pesk in our way.”

“ Don’t worry Azul we will deal with then in a breese.”

“Yay we got to play with sealion and shark sucker! Azul, you don’t mind if I go a bit rough on them right?”

“ Not at all give, play rough all you want.”

“ Come at me!”

The octavinelle and Savannaclaw student are occupied on striking each other leaving you alone and distracted by the flying you. You went on your way following the be, Out of the mirror…

Oh Look! A trail of tarts? Ohh!! Cookies too! Is that tiny cupcakes?

You tried the bite sized tart left in your path,

“ MY GOD!” star shines in your eyes at the familiar flavour burst.

The strawberry flavour really mixed with the custard and the crust! You then followed the trail, collecting and eating each bitesize treat going into a mirror, into a garden, then a box filled with even more treats!

“ OHH Look at that! You approached the box looking around if somebody is near, Maybe it belonged to someone. After a while you realized that you saw nobody, you couldn’t just leave the treats left for the ants to eat! Those delicious treats don’t deserve that! You then getting inside it box before you start to eat the delicious bite sized treat,

“NOW!”

CLANGG!

The box turned into a cage before the wooden that kept tha cage up was removed abruptly leaving you stuck inside the cage.

“ HUHHH!! A TRAPP!!!”

“Well lokey look, the greedy curious kitten falls into a trap.” The red headed man step out from the bush.

“ I can’t blame them, afterall, trey’s baked goods are to die for!” an oranged head man popped out from the same bush.

“It’s nice of you to think that way.” The glasses guy chuckled as he also walked away from the bush.

“ I can’t believe it! You trap me like this!! Let me go~~” you cried.

“not with such unruly outfit of course. We cannot go to a tea without dressing up properly, “ Ah..look at what they did to you, Those Savannaclaw doesn’t know how to properly dress you! Everybody know heartlabyul colours match your completion better,Trey.”

In an instant your clothes turn into the one that matched the heartslabyul uniform,”

“OH!”

“ we would get you a real clothes instead of a magic one but there seem to be a delay in the production so wait patiently alright.” Riddle said.

“oooo?!”

“ I knew it the heartslabyul uniform suits you the best! We have to take lots of picture together, I want to show you around to the people following me on magicam!” he excitedly took out his phone.

“ That is true, The heartslabyul dorm do suits you very much, Its very stylish on you!” trey said

“ Now that, that is settled lets the unbirthday party Start!”

The cage now removed and you take Riddle extended arm as he guide you to the table filled with more cake and pasteries, much to your delight.

“you should try this tea with exactly  cube of sugar.”

“ I made this bitesize caked, I added candied violets to it, I hope its exactly your taste.”

“ Say cheese!”

The three of them fawn over you and spoil you, They cannot get over the way your eyes light up and ears perked up when trying different desserts and pastries, getting hand feed by Riddle is definitely a plus plus. An thus you are, a fancy spoiled cat.

“Nyaa HOoo!”

“ARGHHHH!!” You jumped up from your seat into riddle’s arm, who was already standing startled by the Sudden voice as well.

“ Che’nya! I told you to use the door like a normal person.”

“ Hahaha, what is the fun in that? I see you have gained a new cat in town.”

He floats over you.

“HUP!” He whisked you away from Trey’s strong arm.

“ A cute one too!”

“ Riddle you won’t mind if I take her back to RSA, Right?”

“ NO way! y/n is a NRC student not an RSA and never will be an RSA student!” Carter exclaimed.

“ Awhhh! But im sure Neige would really appreciate it, especially since he can’t shut up about y/n since the SDC Event

“ ABSOLUTELY NOT! VIL would also most definitely disagree with this!” riddle face start to go red at the mention of him taking you so far away to the RSA.

“Che’nya we called you just to help y/n adjust to being a cat beast-man” trey intervined, trying to diffuse the situation.

“ Ohh I see, new to the cat life aren’t yaa~”

You nodded.

“ Okay first, you place your hand on the middle of your face like this.”

You followed his instruction.

“ and bend your finger like this.“

you bend your finger.

“ and that is how you scratch your nose~”

You could swear you hear the ceramic of Riddle’s teacup crack as his face is flushing redded and redder in anger.

Trey sighed as he put his hand to hid face as if expecting the result.

“ EH! Everybody know that is how you scratch your nose! I thought you would give them something more educational, or like something that we human’s doint have! Like I don’t how how to maintain your animal ears to be as perfect and clean, or how to groom your tail?”

“ Ehh we basically do things that same as you are. We don’t do anything special,, plus they are not the same kind of cat beast man as I am.”

“ Haa, I expected getting help from chenn’ya is just useless, But actually can you elaborate what do you mean by different like of cat beast man.

“ Unlike them I am a mix of both cat-like and human magic, she is magicless as she come! Plus I heard a rowdy group of two cards, one big fluffy dog, an apple, and a crocodile, talk about a defective potion, they say that there is a potion that has been sold that make the drinker to turn more into cat then a beatman hehehe..”

“ WHY DIDn’t you told us sooner!” Riddle shouted.

“y/n, are you feeling fine? Is your body hurting somewhere? Do you feel any side effect? we need to go to professor Crewel right now!” Riddle fused over you in worry.

“ Im fine riddle! I feel real great in fact!” you pushed your head to his check rubbing it trying to calm his heart.

Of course that does not calm the heart of Riddle, even though he love your head rub very much he need to take you to crewel for your own good.

“c’mon y/n we need to go to crewel.”

“ Child of man! “

“ Tsunataronn!”

“UWAAA! Now malleus is here too!” Carter sighed.

“ a its time for me to go~” Che’nya said as he disappeared into nothing.

“Malleus why are you here?” trey asked.

“ Of course, to take this child of man back home.”

“ What do you mean by that, they are home!” the hot-headed red hair snapped.

“khufufufu, Not quite.”

“ah Liliaa! Do you want to steal y/n away too?” carter whined as his friend, wishing the old fae could just let you go.

“ no can do!”

“as I expected.”

“ We won’t just hand them over to you. You know that right?” trey sternly said now covering your figure with his body.

“that’s what we expected, so we come here with a deal.” Malleus answered.

“ Absolutely not there is no place for negotiation in this! Thank you and Goodbye!”

“ C’mon don’t be hasty in making a decision o queen of hearts.”

The arguments go on and on, it makes you bored and hence you leap away from the chair and explore the maze.

To your surprise there lay a man with a platinum silver hair laying down peacefully on the soft green ground.This of course had attracted your full attention. My god he look so comfortable, its like he is inviting you to lay on top of him, And so you did.

You had curled your body up and sleep on top the the man, head in his plush chest as leg draped on the ground, you sleep soundly using him as a pillow. You could feel a hand on you as the said man begun to lift you us and carry you.

“Father I got them already.”

“O good! Then be shall bid adeu!”

“ Let’s go Lilia.”

“ Hah?! You can’t just take them away! Off with your head!”

“ of course we can.” Riddle magic fail as you are whisked away by the briar prince and his retainer.

You lot of you had transported to diasomnia dorm. Silver putting you down.

“y/n welcome home.” Malleus greeted you.

“ Now silver be a dear and show y/n where they can change their clothes, These horid scheme just doesn’t suit them at all. Poor you forced into a badly made outfit, It isn’t even a real one, just a mere illusion trick.” He snaps his finger making trey’s unique magic on you disappear leaving you back in savannaclaw uniform.

“ oh my this uniform is even uglier, poor darling.” He hug you as he rubs you between your ears. You of course enjoy all the attention that was given to you as you purr.

“oh such a clingy kitten, now be a good kitty and follow silver.”

“y/n come here.”

You nod as you ran up to silver.

“khufufufu…curious and curiouser!”

and so, operation use silver as bait was a success.

[ Words 3220]

>> to be continued<<

.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.

Taglist:

@agaygothicmushroom

@feverish-dove

@jjsmeowthie

@losingmybrain

@mysticcyan

@valentinaagarcia

@fancyhawk45

@ayanokomu

@mel-star636

@haveneulalie

@lanxianschoenheit

@wisteriarose214

[ hey if anybody want to be added in this taglist please do comment and i will add you in the next part]

#ツイステッドワンダーランド #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #malleus draconia #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #carter diamond #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #epel felmier #lilia vanrouge #silver #twisted wonderland yuu #sebek zigvolt #neige leblanche #che’nya

[hazbinhotelie]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Sure thing!

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, my back pressed against the bathtub, staring blankly at the small blade in my hand. The fight with Alastor replayed in my mind on an endless loop, each harsh word cutting deeper than I thought possible. I had thought I was past this, thought I was stronger, but tonight proved otherwise.

The fight replayed in my head on an endless loop, each word a fresh wound. Alastor’s voice, usually so calm and soothing, had been sharp and cutting. The anger in his eyes haunted me, even now. I had tried to stand my ground, to voice my own frustrations, but it had all spiraled out of control so quickly.

The anger, the hurt, it all felt so overwhelming. I had to find a way to numb it, to make it stop. My hand trembled as I traced the edge of the blade against my skin again. I’d lost count of how many marks I’d made, the familiar sting a twisted comfort. It was a desperate attempt to regain control, but deep down, I suppose I knew it was only making things worse.

My hands shook as I stared at the old scars and fresh marks on my skin, a testament to my struggle. I had tried so hard to move past this, to find healthier ways to deal with my emotions, but tonight it had been too much. The guilt and shame washed over me, threatening to pull me under.

The house was eerily silent, the only sound the faint ticking of a clock in the hallway. I wanted to call out for Alastor, to apologize, to explain, but the words stuck in my throat. What if he was still angry? What if he didn’t want to see me?

I didn’t hear him approach, but suddenly, he was there, standing in the doorway. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, the marks on my skin, the tears on my cheeks. For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension from our fight hung in the air, a palpable presence.

"Hey," Alastor said quietly, kneeling down beside me. "What are you doing?"

I couldn't meet his eyes. Shame washed over me, mixing with the guilt and frustration already swirling inside. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't know what else to do."

“No, no, don’t.. oh my little doe,” he said softly.

I couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped my lips. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to…”

Alastor reached out, gently taking the blade from my hand. His touch was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the cold metal. He set it aside, far out of reach, before turning his full attention to me. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

"It’s okay," he said softly, his fingers gently lifting my chin. I hesitated, but eventually, I met his gaze. His eyes were filled with worry and regret, but also with an unwavering love that I didn't feel I deserved in that moment.

The warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, it was all too much. I broke down, sobbing into his chest as he pulled me into his arms. He held me tightly, his hand running soothingly up and down my back. I could feel his heart beating against my own, a steady rhythm that began to calm my racing thoughts.

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated, my words muffled against his shirt. “I didn’t want to… I just…”

"We had a fight," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you. It doesn't mean you have to hurt yourself."

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over and tracing hot paths down my cheeks. "I felt… I was- I was wrong, Al, I just- you were so mad and I- I wanted to apologize but-," I struggled to explain, despite the fact he said I didn’t have to. I felt I had to, that he deserved an explanation. It wasn’t his fault. “I couldn’t. So when you walked away, I…. I didn’t know what to do,” I said, my voice cracking. "I tried to calm down, I just.. I felt like I couldn't breathe."

I clung to him, my body shaking with sobs. He didn't rush me, didn't try to hush me. He just held me, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions. I could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, and I focused on it, matching my breaths to its rhythm.

"It’s okay. I’m here," he murmured into my hair. "I'm sorry I yelled. I never meant to…” he paused and shook his head. “I’m right here, now. I’m with you. You don’t have to worry."

After what felt like an eternity, my sobs began to subside, and the tension in my body started to ease. Alastor continued to hold me, his hand running soothingly up and down my back. When I felt a semblance of calm returning, I looked up at him. His eyes were filled with tears, but there was no anger, only a deep, abiding love.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, my voice hoarse from crying.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. "You don't have to apologize," he said gently. "We both said things we didn't mean. But hurting yourself isn't the answer. We can work through this. Okay?"

I nodded, feeling a little better now. Alastor wiped away my tears with his thumb, his touch tender and loving.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, helping me to my feet. "And then we'll talk. No more hiding, okay?"

"Okay," I said, my voice small.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said softly, his fingers gently tracing the marks on my skin. “We’ll get help, find better ways to cope. But please, don’t ever think you have to go through this alone.”

I nodded, unable to speak. The guilt and shame were still there, but his words gave me hope. We had a long road ahead of us, but knowing that he was willing to walk it with me made all the difference.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice full of conviction. “And nothing will ever change that.”

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x reader

[froggibus]

Rose Quartz - Venture

Pairing: Venture x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, bit of crack, one droplet of angst

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: in which Venture wants to confess their feelings for you, but keeps giving you rocks instead

CW: awkwardness, crushes, kind of unrequited love, mentions of crystals/rocks and their meanings, Venture avoiding their feelings, one (1) argument, aggressive kissing, reader calls Venture "nerd", NOT PROOFREAD

NEW BANNERS!!! IM SO EXCITED!! ive been wanting a more cohesive graphic for my posts rather than just reusing gifs, so I made these and I adore them!! first time writing about Venture and tbh it's a little juvenile but it kinda works with the theme. they're so adorable and i absolutely love them ^.^ (also happy canadian moment that they gave us an interesting canadian hero finally lol)

“Hey! Y/n! Wait up!” Heavy boots trail after Sloan’s voice, prompting you to turn around. 

“What’s up?”

They give you a toothy grin, holding up a hand to pause while they catch their breath. It’s a hot day in Petra, nearly scorching with all of the gear you have on just to enter the dig site. Even standing in the sun is enough to have you panting and sweaty. 

Sloan releases one last heavy breath and closes the last few steps between the two of you. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

They’re so close you can see the sweat shimmering across their brow, smelling that familiar earthy scent of theirs that you’ve thought about for weeks now. The sun beats down overhead and you’re sure they must be boiling under their safety equipment. 

You cock your head to the side, “what is it?”

“I just—I’ve been thinking for a while, you know? And I really thought that maybe—is it really hot out here? I’m really hot.”

You nod in agreement, cupping your hands around your eyes to block out the sun. You were just on your way back to the shuttle to your hotel room when they caught you, and you have little interest in staying in this heat. 

“I should probably get going,” you admit, “it’s boiling and I need to eat.”

Sloan agrees all too quickly. “Yeah, yeah. I—I just wanted to know,” they loose a sigh, “do you want this rock?”

You’re taken aback for only a moment as they reach out a sweaty palm with a jagged pink crystal no bigger than a dollar coin. You reach out and grab it, your fingertips brushing their hand as you do. Sloan doesn’t miss the way you shiver from the contact. 

“It’s pretty, what is it?”

Sloan scratches the back of their neck. “It’s rose quartz, I just thought you might find it pretty or something…”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You tuck the rock into your pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…see you tomorrow.”

Sloan watches as you spin on your heel and slowly disappear into the horizon. As soon as you’re out of eyesight, they let themselves sigh in disappointment and drop to their knees. 

Confessing is much harder than they thought it would be. 

—

You hold the rose quartz the whole shuttle ride to the hotel, rolling the cold stone across your aching palms. It really is a beautiful stone, even if it serves as a physical reminder of your own disappointment. 

You thought, just for a moment, that they might feel the same way as you. That they were going to ask you on a date, at least. But you’ve thought that the past few weeks, and it’s only bred chagrin. 

The cold air of your hotel room doesn’t feel nearly as nice as it should. Your skin still feels sticky, a layer of dust stuck to the sweat from the sweltering sun you spent the day under. But it’s not the sweat or the dust that has you feeling withdrawn—it’s the sight of the stones lining your night table. 

You place the rose quartz at the end of a line of eight stones, admiring them all together. It’s a beautiful array of clear, pink and green stones. Some are smooth—like they’ve already been tumbled—and others are jagged, found raw and expertly cut from the rock they once formed in. 

Your favourite, given to you just a few days ago, was a raw piece of rhodochrosite. Sloan had a big grin when they gave it to you, the stone warm from them holding it in their palm for so long.

You roll the stone in your palm for only a moment before ordering your usual room service, shrugging off your clothes and going to take a shower. The cold water feels amazing on your skin, washing the heat and shame of the day down the drain. For the time you’re in the shower, you hardly even think about Sloan or the collection of rocks starting to accumulate. 

You only get out when your phone buzzes with the usual courtesy notification letting you know the room service cart is on its way up to you. The air conditioning feels much better after showering, chilling the bite of your skin. You dress quickly in pyjamas and get to the door just in time to let in the kind lady with your dinner.

It’s the same woman as the last few nights—an older lady with a dazzling smile that she flashes at you as she crosses the threshold into your room.

“Same as usual?” She prompts while she lays out the dishes on the small table in the corner.

“You know it.”

She finishes laying out your spread, the delicious scent nearly making your mouth water, before grabbing the cart and starting to back out of the room. She pauses just as she gets past your nightstand, her eyes flicking over the array of stones.

“Well, aren’t those pretty.” You smile in agreement, “they are, aren’t they?”

“Lots of love stones,” she says. “Were they gifted to you?”

“Love stones?”

“Yes,” she nods, “like rose quartz, and rhodochrosite. They represent love in certain practices.”

The information is like a slap in the face, leaving you so dazed that you forget to thank the woman as she leaves your room. Love stones? Why would Sloan be giving you love stones?

You’re near frantic as you collect all of the stones into your hand, forgetting your shoes as you burst out of your hotel room and storm down the hall to Sloan’s. You’re not sure if they’re even back from the site yet, or what you’ll say to them when you get to their room—all you’re sure of is that you want to know why they gave you the stones. The real reason.

Sloan is utterly confused when they open their door to see you there, hair wet and dressed in pyjamas with no shoes, holding out a handful of rocks. “Hi?”

“Why did you give these to me?”

Sloan swallows, dark eyes examining the stones clutched in your palm. “I just thought you’d like them.” A lie, a complete and utter lie.

They curse themselves for being such a coward and not confessing sooner—but you’re just so cute, and they like you so much, and they felt so damn awkward trying to tell you they liked you. Except now, with you standing so close to them, water dripping from your hair and rendering your pyjama top near see-thru, they feel much more awkward.

“Just because you thought I’d like them?” You’re breathing hard, eyebrows knit together in confusion, “or because they’re apparently ‘love stones’, whatever that means.”

From the way their mouth hangs open, you know you’ve caught them.

“Listen, I—I—”

You cut them off, “did you know what the meanings were when you gave them to me?”

“Yes,” they sigh defeatedly. “But I thought you knew!”

“Of course I didn’t know!”

Sloan peers down the hall, hoping no one is around to hear your rising voices. “Why don’t you come in?”

“Why? So you can keep leading me in circles, so I can keep wondering why you don’t feel the same way as I do?” The words come out before you can stop them, even the hand you clamp over your mouth doing nothing to keep them in.

Sloan’s shoulders sag. “I wasn’t leading you in circles.”

“Weren’t you?” You shake your head, turning away from them. “You just wanted to hide behind a bunch of rocks forever.”

“Y/n, wait!”

You shake your head, starting to walk away. You don’t get far, as Sloan grabs your shoulder and spins you to face them. You have no time to react as they grab the back of your head and shove your face into theirs.

The second their lips meet yours, all of the built up disappointment from the past few weeks melts away. You relax into their touch, letting their calloused fingers tangle in your hair. They taste citrusy, over just a hint of salt, and electrify you like a shot of tequila.

You pull away breathlessly, looking at them over your lashes. They’re smirking like an idiot, eyes practically sparkling.

“Still think I’m leading you in circles?”

You rest your hand on their waist, pulling them back to you in desperation. “Shut up and kiss me again, nerd.”

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #ow2 #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #venture #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #venture x reader #venture x you #sloan cameron #sloan cameron x reader #sloan cameron x you #overwatch venture

[marvelsgirl616]

☆ ☆ ☆ POSSESSED ☆ ☆ ☆

——————————————————————————

• Pairing y/n x Possessive!Rafe Cameron. (TW: possessive and toxic, slightly obsessed, kissing, pinning against a wall…)

• Summary/Pre-View: “would you like to be mine?” Rafe says in a sweet yet firm tone. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You’re speechless…do you want to be his?

•A/N: this is literally my second fic/blurb so yeah I’m a work in progress. :) thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

As you talk with rafe about how both of your days were going so far he says out of nowhere….“would you like to be mine?” Rafe says in a sweet and firm tone and a dark glimmer in his eyes. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You’re speechless…do you want to be his?

He takes his chance with your silence and pulls you in, holding you against him and keeping his strong grip on your small body. He looks into your eyes with a fiery determination, like he was waiting for an answer but wanted to intimidate you into saying it.

“Go ahead, you can say it..” He says in an almost mocking tone, then giving you a slight squeeze to taunt you.

As my heart beats out of my chest, my mind is processing his words…you want to be his. You really do…but you can’t bring yourself to say it. It’s as if rafe can read my mind. He smirks knowing you do want to be his.

He brings his strong hand up to your chin, lifting it up so you’re looking at him straight on. There was a soft intensity to his expression that you had never seen before. This was a side of rafe that he’d kept hidden deep down, a side that only you had ever seen. He couldn’t even explain why he was feeling the way he was, but there was one thing he knew for certain. He whispers softly with a stern yet soft tone.

“You’re mine. And I intend to make you mine permanently” he lets out a low growl from his throat as he presses you up against the wall, trapping you against the cold, plaster surface. He’s practically got you pinned against the wall, his hands on either side of your hips. The wall is rough against your skin, but Rafe’s body is warm and burning against yours.

You can feel his muscles tensing as he keeps his composure, fighting his desires. You’ve never seen him want anything so badly in his life, and you were right in the middle of it. With one final move, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, kissing you passionately and fiercely.

As you both pull away from the kiss all you can do is smile and blush. With a nod and soft smile you say “yes I want to be yours”

Rafe’s eyes soften as he smiles and says firmly “good” and moves forward crashing his lips against yours with a fiery passion yet again.

#dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #outer banks #obx fic #obx rafe cameron #possessive!rafe cameron

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 11

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay makes it up to you after you found that now destroyed picture of him and sam, and you confess to what happened after he left jess’.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.7K FOLLOWERS

Today was one of the rare days that Clay got to work with his mom, and of course she was able to tell that something was wrong as soon as he entered the room. 

When he tried to wave it off, she pressured him into going home early and resting - assuming it was something to do with his heart, which was a lot better than her finding out the real reason why he wasn’t his usual self. There was no way he could tell her that he was miserable because he fucked things up with you again.  

He knew you would be there when he got home, and he was almost nervous to face you after this morning. He had the full intention to apologize to you and explain further, but you completely shut him out, and he understood why. 

If you needed space, he’d give you it, but it wouldn’t make him feel any less like an asshole for having Sam’s picture in his drawer, even if he forgot about it entirely before you found it. 

Clay was scared that you’d stop babysitting Joey, and they’d be alone again. You had filled in most of the hole Sam left, which was surprising in itself since you hadn’t been in his life for too long. 

Since he was coming home a bit early today, he was hoping he would be able to talk to you for a bit longer. His mom wouldn’t be back until later tonight, and Clay was planning on explaining things to you when Joey goes to bed. If you even decided to stay that long and let him. 

He got home at around six thirty, and he was up the stairs within seconds when he heard yours and Joey’s mixed laughs coming from the kitchen. The sound was one he wanted to hear all the time, and that just further proved how badly he needed to fix things between you and him. Because Joey loved you. And Clay…well, he really liked you and didn’t want things to end because of Sam. 

Clay entered the kitchen and met your eye almost immediately, and he was forced to watch your smile fade as you set Joey down. He runs over to Clay with a big grin and a laugh as he picks him up, greeting him in the way Clay loved. “Hi, daddy,”

“Hi, buddy,” he said back, kissing the top of his son’s head before looking back at you. “Y/n.”

You seemed to have been frozen before and when he said your name, you quickly straightened up and put down the spoon you were holding. “You’re back early,” you observe and hesitantly make your way over to him and Joey. “I thought you’d be gone another few hours. I was going to clean.”

Clay shook his head and set Joey down. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off as Joey grabbed his hand. He looked tired, and Clay knew he needed to go to sleep. So with pleading eyes he said, “I’m going to go get him ready for bed. But I want to talk to you about…everything. Will you stay? Please?”

You bite down on your bottom lip and reach out to run your knuckles along Joey’s cheek. “Yeah,” you answer quietly, meeting Clay’s eyes again. “I’ll stay.”

A sigh of relief left his mouth and he was quickly taking Joey upstairs and getting him ready for bed. Once he was tucked under his covers and holding his teddy bear, Clay leaned down and kissed the top of Joey’s head. “I love you, Joe,” he whispered, then turned and made his way back to you. 

You were sitting on the couch, your leg bouncing a bit as you picked at your nails, and Clay passed by the living room and continued on to the kitchen, where he grabbed a diet coke from the fridge before heading back to you. “Here,” he murmured and held it out to you.

The smile you gave him as you took it had his heart skipping a beat, and he quickly sat next to you. “You know, I got mad at my coworker today,” you say quietly as you run the tip of your index finger along the cold can. “Like, really mad.”

Clay’s lips turned upwards at your choice of a conversation starter and he leaned back on the couch. “You got mad?” He asked with a teasing tone that made your smile grow a bit. “Why?”

You bite down on your lip and lean back as well, looking over at him with a blush coating your face. “Because he’s an ass,” you answer simply, making Clay let out a surprised laugh. “He was. It was right after you left. His name is Miles, and he started saying all this stuff after you were gone and not there to defend yourself, and even if you were there, I know you still wouldn’t defend yourself because you are far too sweet to stand up to someone you don’t know, but I’m not.”

He held back a laugh at that since he knew you were probably right. Clay couldn’t even stand up to his mom or Sam when she was still around, and he knew there was a small chance that he’d actually stick up for himself to a total stranger. 

You, on the other hand…he’d stand up for you, just like how you supposedly did for him. 

“So when you left, I was reading through your texts that I stupidly didn’t answer and then he just had to say something. He said that you were probably some rich guy who’s stuck up and only came to Jess’ to pity poor people like him and I,” you rambled and Clay couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and grabbing your hand. Thankfully you allowed him to and laced your fingers with his. “I went off on him. I was practically yelling at him and telling him to shut up in front of all the customers and on my first day of working there. You and I weren’t even on good terms and I was still acting like we were and I probably totally embarrassed myself in front of everyone there, including my new boss.”

You were beginning to sound a bit breathless, so you stopped and waited for a few beats, and Clay didn’t say a word. 

“But I didn’t care, because he was being an ass and I needed to say something to him about it because,” you stopped yourself short and Clay thought for a split second that you were going to say those three words that had been swirling around in his head for a few days now. It was too early, right? You didn’t feel that way, right? “I like you so much. You’re so sweet and kind and caring and the best dad to Joey. I couldn’t stand hearing him say all these horrible things about you when he doesn’t even know you.”

Clay smiled and felt his body heat up at the way you defended him from the coworker he’d seen eyeing you up the entire time he was visiting you at Jess’. “I don’t know what to say,” he laughed, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “No one has ever publicly defended me like that before.”

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, too, but he could tell that you were starting to feel a bit embarrassed. “Maybe it was stupid of me to risk doing that on my first day, but…I just didn’t care.”

Clay’s brows furrowed in concern. “You didn’t get fired, did you?”

“No, no, I just…I told Jess that the hot guy that came in before Miles and I’s argument was my…boyfriend, and how we weren’t doing great at the moment, and she understood for the most part,” you answer with a forced smile. “It just can’t happen again.”

Clay nodded and then when he was sure you were done, he knew it was his turn. “That picture you found, the one in my drawer? Well, it’s in about a hundred pieces right now,”

Your eyes widened and you sat up, setting your drink aside. “You ripped it up? Clay, that was your wedding photo. That day was supposed to be a good memory to hold onto,”

He just shook his head and squeezed your hand. “It’s over,” he whispered. “What Sam and I had…it’s not even a good memory anymore. That picture? It doesn’t mean anything at all to me anymore, and that’s why it’s in pieces in the garbage.”

You press your lips together in a way that told him you were holding back a smile, and he fought one off himself as he continued,

“Sam is just the person who helped give me Joey. That’s all she is to me,” he promised and watched as you nodded. “She doesn’t mean anything, and she hasn’t for a long time. You on the other hand…you’re…”

He stopped talking as he didn’t know where he was going with that. You meant so much to him and to Joey, he honestly didn’t know where he would be right now without you. But it was still so soon, and he promised he wouldn’t rush things with you. It worked so well for him last time. 

“I’m what?” You pressed, leaning closer to him and reaching up to lightly grip his shoulder. 

“You’re everything she’s not,” he replied, sitting up straight. “I mean, Joey is practically obsessed with you already. You’re all he talks about when you’re not here, and he’s attached to you when you are here. He’s like his dad in that way.”

The smile you give him at that could only be described as fucking beautiful, and then you were carefully crawling on top of him and straddling his lap. 

Clay reached up to smooth out your hair. “You’re who I want to be with. And I’m sorry you saw that picture. I thought I had gotten rid of it a while ago,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing behind your ear. “I don’t ever go in that drawer, so I promise, I really had no idea-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his mouth that was pretty effective in getting him to forget about what he was about to say. “Clay,” you mumble when you pull away, kissing the corner of his mouth quickly afterwards. “Stop making yourself feel bad with excuses. I already forgave you.”

Clay smiled, then you were kissing him again. “I missed you yesterday,” he confessed against your lips. “I really wanted to take you out on our second date.”

You whined and pulled away. “Don’t remind me,” you whispered, dropping your head onto his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair afterwards. “I feel guilty about that. You were so cute before I found that stupid fucking picture.”

“I’m not now?” He teased and you pulled back to give him a pointed look. “Sorry.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Clay,” you mumbled, running the tips of your fingers along his jaw. “Maybe I overreacted. But I hated seeing you with her, even if it was through a photo.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he murmured, leaning up to kiss the side of your neck. “That photo shouldn’t have been in there. I promise, you won’t find any more around. She’s out of our lives.”

“Okay,” you trail off, gently massaging the back of his neck. “I missed you, too. Can we spend a day together soon? Or did I blow the one chance we had?”

Clay laughed, already knowing when the next time you and he would be alone together could be, but he decided to keep it from you for just a bit longer. “We’ll have another chance,” he promised and watched as you nodded then looked down at his lips. Without another word being spoken, you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips barely brushing against his as if you were testing it out. It reminded him of the first kiss you shared, and the memory had him grabbing hold of your hips and pressing you tight against his chest. 

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair felt concerningly good, and Clay realized that it had been a while since he felt this comfortable with a woman. Sam did a number on him and he had only let himself indulge in a few meaningless conversations with women before he decided he just wasn’t ready to move on yet. 

That was before, now he was pretty much all in with you. 

You adjusted yourself so you were straddling his lap, your hips pressed to his in a way that had him holding back a groan of want. He would let you decide how far this goes, even if it left him with a killer boner afterwards. “Is this okay?” You asked sweetly, pulling away just enough to be able to look him in the eye. 

“Yeah,” came his strained reply as he leaned his head back on the top of the couch. “It’s okay. More than okay.”

You press your lips together, sliding your hands back down to his shoulders. “It’s not too much?” You asked quieter this time, and he adored the way you were so concerned about doing something that could potentially trigger his heart rate to spike. 

Clay shook his head, bending his legs more so his thighs were a bit firmer. Your lips part in a silent gasp, and it took a lot out of him to not kiss you again as he said, “It’s not too much, baby,”

He knew that nickname did things to you. He caught the way you reacted to it the first time he called you it, and he made a mental note that you clearly liked it. “Oh, God,” you groaned, leaning in and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Clay.”

Ever since the first time he had heard the sweet sounds you make when you get like this, Clay had been determined to coax them out of you more often. It was impossible to not get riled up when your soft moans filled the quiet living room, and it was hard not to notice the fact that he usually spends most of his time in here with you. 

The memory of his first kiss with you flashed through his mind, and he groaned at where that kiss led to. You on top of him, your hands tangled in his hair and your hips dragging against his in a way that should not feel so good. But it was you, and Clay was beginning to think that everything with you felt good. 

Your lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss got him out of his head and he held onto your waist a bit tighter, leaning up to kiss you properly. You returned it, pulling on his hair as you shifted your body back and forth on his lap. “Do we..” You trailed off, massaging the spot on his head where you had tugged on his hair. “We have time?” You hesitantly asked, slowing down the drag of your hips. 

“I got sent home early,” he laughed breathlessly, watching as a smile formed on your lips. “My mother wouldn’t put up with my pouting.” 

You laugh, shifting so you were higher up on his lap and pressing your chest to his. “This pout,” you murmur, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the hand of your other came up to caress the side of his face. “It does something to me.” Your index finger traces the outline of his lips as you begin rubbing yourself against him again. 

“At least it works on you,” he teased and you bit down on your lip, leaning in to press a deep kiss to his mouth. 

“So,” you dragged the word out. 

“So,” he echoed, guiding the slow roll of your body. “We have more than enough time.”

You smile at him, picking up the pace again. “Feels so good, Clay,” you whimper, wrapping your arm tighter around him and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Just like how it felt upstairs in the hall.”

Clay groaned, bucking his hips upwards and making a surprised moan leave your mouth. “You sounded so pretty,” he reminisced, bunching up your shirt. “Tasted so good.”

“Oh, my God,” you moaned loudly, moving a bit erratically now. “It’s too much.”

“Are you gonna come?” He asked under his breath, unable to speak any louder than that in fear he’d give away just how much of an effect you have on him. 

You nod quickly, bunching his shirt in your hands. “Are you?”

Clay leaned back against the top of the couch again, gazing up at you with a lazy smile. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “With me? Please?”

Clay grunted, in a bit of disbelief at how sweet you sounded when asking for something so dirty. He was sure he’d give you anything you wanted if you asked him like how you just did. “Come, baby,” he requested in a raspy voice, and you squeezed your eyes shut as your body shook on top of his. 

He came with you, making a real mess in his boxers that he honestly didn’t care about. It’d been a long time since he was intimate with someone, but you made him feel better than he had ever felt. He was sure it was because it was with you, the girl he’s been so into since the minute he met you. 

Your body stilled on top of his, your fingers trailing through his hair as you came down from your high. “How?” You asked breathlessly, pulling away from his shoulder to be able to look him in the eye. “How do you make it feel so good every time?” 

Clay laughed, smoothing out your messy hair and ruffled shirt before pressing a kiss to your swollen lips. “Maybe I’ll let you find that out next time,”

With that promise, you grinned at him and pulled him down so he is laying on top of you and your arms are wound tightly around him.

-

Next up...some time alone..

Thank you for reading this extremely late chapter !

#clayton beresford #clay beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagine #clayton beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford #awake 2007 #awake #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you #happy star wars day #may the 4th be with you #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen edit #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader

[wraithsoutlaws]

This is not a suicide letter I just want to get a real close look at death Touch his matted hair as I pass him by

this was inspired by a ficlet that was inspired by a song. i already talked about the way dagger is a coping mechanism for me, so i won't go into it again, but i thought i'd share the words i wrote for it.

cw: self harm, gorey images, drug mention, sexual innuendo

Blood spills down his chest as he flicks his wrist seamlessly across his heart. He’s made of scar tissue. He can hardly feel the pleasant sting of the symphony beneath his skin. The pain is cold when it reaches him and he tries again, harder this time, digging like a child for treasure in the sun bleached dirt.  He’s numb, and it’s been this way for a lifetime. It isn’t the empty inhaler at his feet, discarded on the floor between half a pack of cigarettes and the corpse of a nameless drifter. And it’s not the barbiturates seeping into his guts. Its this broken thing, sitting bitterly ‘neath his bloody sternum.  He watched a heart stop beating once. Opened a man up and saw it whither right there in his ribs, ‘ganic as they come. He drove his knife through the left atrium and plucked it like a ripened apple. But it beat, for a half a breath, it beat defiant–too stubborn to die. It glittered and glistened ruby red as he spun it in his fingers to see it sparkle. He digs the razor deeper. Now he can make pictures in the ribbons of his sliced flesh. When he wipes away the blood there’s the rigid frame of the first car he ever owned, and it’s busted bumper after he drove a man down. Beside it, the barren arms of a joshua tree. He curves the next slash and draws the sun above it, a red-tinted dawn hanging over the desert that reminds him of the day that a weak boy died and the heart in his chest beat for the last time.  He tries to remember what it felt like, but it burns like nitrate film and blood eclipses the image.  The razor slips between slick fingers and he grabs for his knife instead. He catches the faint glow of his optics in the blade, and the man behind them spares a familiar smile in the shadows. Cold metal swipes over skin. Muscle memory drives it in.  He hisses as the blade sinks into his flesh, between the shell of bone and deep into the empty cavern of his chest. He pushes it in until the hilt is flush and he can feel the tip at his spine and only then does the feeling come back to him. Warm, angry sparks of it cascading down his body, lighting every nerve with napalm and tnt. Pounding, pounding. So loud his ears deafen to his own  manic laugh. He pulls up the knife for a moment only to thrust it back inside. Blood fountains, spilling over his grin as the beat runs thorough his veins, alive again. He’s breathless. Floating. His eyes are wide, burning the room bright and sending shadows dancing above his head.  Oh, how they dance to that tune.

#cyberpunk 2077 #oc: dagger #cyberpunk photomode #my fic tag #ficlet below the cut it is Not required reading #but i thought i'd share it #bc writing/vp helps me a lot when i feel Bad

[kryannoy]

Hello! Hope you have a nice day~ If you are accepting req, could you please do a prompt where Mitsuya s/o's wanting him to choke her for her new kink. Like, legit choking hurting her. I wanna know how would his reaction be since he is truly a gentleman but a wolf in a sheep's clothing KYAAAH gosh. Thank you for your time! <3

genre: nsfw, smut characters: mitsuya x reader warnings: choking, mitsuya isn't a gentleman :(( but he takes care of you after a/n: choking isn't really my forte though i do not hate it. thank you for requesting and have a nice day too!

He would most definitely not initiate it, nor the idea ever crossed his mind. He would never want to hurt you and would never want to degrade you—he finds choking as an act of degradation.

However when you, his lovely partner, specifically requested him to do so, it's not that he can't say no. It's because you yourself wanted it. You want to be choked, you want to be hurt. By him.

"Tap my hand if it's too much, darling." He's hovering over you, shirtless. His hand on your neck but not squeezing just yet. You can tell he's nervous by how the tips of his fingers are cold and twitching.

You nodded in response and he can feel your throat moved when you gulped down your excitement. To reassure him more, you lightly tap him just like how he showed you.

He leans down to kiss your forehead so sweetly. He hovers over you again to look at your begging eyes. Gosh, how can he control himself when you look so desperate?

You start to feel pressure on your neck, surely he can feel your pulse beating through his fingers. He thrusts up into you, eliciting a moan out of you from surprise. Your throat is being pressed even more and it's getting harder to breathe or say anything but you can still take it. You still want him to do more, to go further.

His thrusts are consistent now, thinking that this is okay but to his surprise, it's not okay yet for you as you reach his hand on your throat to tighten his grip even more. You see a bit of fear in his eyes before he moans as he follows your lead. He trusts you to tap his hand if you can't take it.

He squeezes your throat harder like he would grip his sheets for dear life when he's jacking off of you. Your eyes roll back and your tongue is stuck out by instinct. He can feel you tighten around him. Picking up his pace, his pelvis keeps pounding into yours roughly. Wet squelching sounds fill the hot room, labored breaths mixing in creating the environment even more lewd and dirty. It turns him on to see you being aroused by this. The sensations lead you to reach your climax faster than usual.

White cream formed on the base of his cock, gliding in and out easily it drives both of you crazy. He moves his hips rapidly when he's close while you're sucking him in.

"Fuck, baby. Didn't know you were this kinky." He grins. That was it for you as you creamed around him so messily. His hips stuttered and he keeps nudging in more into your sloppy hole as he let a dragged out groan.

He releases you and he can see the red marks on your skin. He kisses them softly, all over it apologetically. His hands are on either side of your head, gently stroking your hair in reassurance.

"You alright, babe?" He kisses your ear. "Hm?"

You nod tiredly in response so he doesn't think you were hurt. You are, but in a pleasing way.

"Let's do that more often." Your voice came out hoarse and raspy which makes him chuckle.

"I'll put it into consideration."

#mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut

[vulpixisananimal]

LOOP 1

"Just that easy?" (You say, holding up the five orbs you'd taken from the saviors. A moment later they started to glow and float to the door in front of you.)

[Just that easy~ Lucky you, getting to skip the year long treck to get those orbs~]

"It's still weird you can do that." (You roll your eyes, look at you, Cadence, about to go on another grand adventure diving into some crypt or castle or something. Wasn't two enough already?)

---

"Well this is familiar at least." (The house felt cold, empty, and frozen. Despite that, you could still feel a powerful rythm coarsing through it. You could feel your heart beat with it.)

[Well since YOU know about how to move to a beat already I wont explain~]

"Very helpful."

[Thank you, thank you.]

(You take your steps forward. Already falling back into motion. Past the first few hallways and the world starts to twist into a familiar mazelike pattern. You see your first enemy.)

"Woah."

[A little sadness blob! You've beaten sadness before, haven't you?]

"Sadness? It just looks like a slime."

[. . . . . Perfect! I can teach you about how we do things here in Vaugarde then~]

"Can't I just kill it and move on?"

[Nope~ Tutorial time~]

---

(You were getting the hang of this. It was similar to the crypt, enemies move in paterns, and you could tell that patern by hand shapes. Rock, paper, scissors, not that hard. Aparently, you were Rock AND scissors, something of a rarity.)

(You weaved throug sadness, still getting used to just how they worked. Damn, it was strange here. Monochrome, frozen in time, hard to find usable items, and. . .)

(A pain in your side, not paying attention, you fumble. Dammit, don't forget, new world new rules. The sadness you were up against was paper, and you were weak to that. You had to keep track of the beat AND what hand symbols sadness had?)

(You strike back, beat, beat, beat, step.)

(You trip up. You try and move, and-)

LOOP 2

"Soooooo~"

(The star looked like they wanted to gloat so bad. Or tease you. Or anything like that. You just sat on the tree root absolutly fuming with rage.)

"So." (You reply.)

"How'd it go-"

"I just died!!!" (You yell back.) "I got hit with something and died! And suddenly I'm falling from the sky again and ending up right back here!"

"Oh congratulations! What a miracle! Let's all here it for our little Comet for cheating death~"

"I want to strangle you."

"But then who will help you out then~"

(You hate them you think.) "Alright. Later then. What WAS that anyway."

"You're in a time loop! Neat, isn't it?"

LOOP 6

(You were doing well this time. You started to recognise familiar rooms and halls. Sure, the place was getting shuffled constantly, but there was a method to the madness.)

(Hah! You really did feel right at home.)

(It took a bit, but you finally had a key to the next area. You knew something was going to be in the way, something always was. But that was more than alright.)

(Finally getting to the door to the next area, you unlocked it, and moved on.)

(Ha, right on cue, it didn't look like any dragon or wraith you'd fought before, it looked almost like... Some carnaval ride. With a big ol ball for a head.)

(No time like the present, you go to attack.)

LOOP 13

[Congratulations! I have no idea where you are!]

(Loop had been a reluctently amazing helper so far. But as you got higher in the house things got less coherant. Like the world itself was breaking down. Now, you were wandering repeating halls trying to find a, what was it, "key-knife"?)

[Keyknife~ And you're looking for a Change God statue, an unbroken one.]

(Very helpful. You continue. It was tough here on the third floor, but you will push on. You had to. Find the salt-shaker looking sadness, kill it, take the star charm, and use it on the right line of tears this time!)

(At least the beat was consistent, unlike these hallways.)

(Eventually, you made it. More frozen statues, more halls, and. . . .)

[. . . . . Oops.]

"Oops?!?" (You were staring at a locked door and no key.)

[I may have forgotten one tiny teensy little details on the last floor about a key hidden there. For this door.]

". . . . I am going to attack you next I see you."

Loop 14

(This time you remembered the key. Truly, it was hidden in a perfect place. In a book that said "please do not look" on it. Lesson learned, you got to the door from last time.)

(It wasn't too much further untill you found... Something? A state of that God, the Change God? Unlike all the others, it was intact.)

(. . . You close your eyes.)

(. . . !!!)

(There was a flash of. . . Something. Looking around, it didn't look like anything changed, but, no you were holding a knife? Is this the thing Loop was talking about?)

[You got the KeyKnife! Now you can get rid of the Kings Hair.]

---

(You move quickly. Damn, you didn't expect to be attacked by a sadness so fast, or so strong. It was supposed to be the that miniboss sadness then the King! But no! The hallways were twisting, turning, breaking, and it had lead you right to this weird sadness!)

(The music was so intense.)

[Good work! I've never seen this type before~]

(Wow! Very helpful! Dammit, it was rock craft, and tough, you tried keeping up, things were moving fast, you slip up, and-)

(You're dead. Again.)

#heho #i could write more for this but here #go #theorize <3 #isat #in stars and time #art #isat art #isat fanart #isat spoilers #isat au #cotnd #crypt of the necrodancer #cotnd cadence #cotnd au

[zenokei]

— my one true love ; itoshi sae.

starring :: itoshi sae x reader

wc :: 400

tags :: slight angst, hurt/barely any comfort, implied love-bombing, slight codependency, avoidant attachment, reader is overwhelmed

synopsis :: itoshi sae didn't think his love would hurt you.

the itoshi sae he becomes when he’s with you is nothing like what outsiders see–what those who are far from being his lover see. instead of his cold, closed-off demeanor, he is the nicest when it comes to you. 

itoshi sae loves to love you,

and he breathes to be able to love you–and perhaps you just don’t see it.

“sae, do you love me?” one night, when your thoughts push everything aside and suffocate you, you mutter. ‘i love you.” you shake your head, making his words bounce off your ear, unbelieving. “tell me the truth,” even though you sit beside sae’s body, arm locked with his, you feel lonely. “please.” you beg, tears hidden and falling directly on sae’s shoulder. “i love you, that’s the truth.” but during that night, you don’t believe it. and it makes sae feel guilty.

every breath of “i love you” he gives out feels like home; not because it’s him getting used to it, but rather, him feeling like a kid again. his heart oughts to beat like never before, blood pumping as fast as it can to reach his cheeks and show you how pathetically in love he is with you. yet, is it not enough? to change for you is something he will do forever more, no complaints. 

“i don’t think you should love me.” he expects the worst, but he can’t bear to let you go so foolishly. “why?” he’s scared, and you’re no better. “i’m undeserving,” your voice breaks while his heart slows down. “of?” the distant murmurs of the sea’s waves are haunting, it sounds too clammy now, and sae is starting to hate it as jaw clenches tightly. “you,” in between soft sobs you say, “your love,” unbeknownst to you, sae has been staring at your worn-out figure for the longest time already, eyes stinging with angst as he does so. “your everything, sae.”

for the first time in his eternal days of loving you, itoshi sae falters.

you’re wrong–because you are the first and only one worthy of his love.

“why would you say that-  how could you even say that?” sae’s voice breaks now, and he’s unable to look at you without his composure breaking. “i don’t know-” you’re cut off, and a pitiful voice that’s not yours echoes through the seaside, “you’re so stupid.” a weight leans onto the top of your head, everything else becoming silent once more. 

that night, sae lets you cry; and each tear that falls down your swollen and tired face feels like an insult to sae’s love for you–and yet, he can’t do anything about it. 

itoshi sae loves to love you: but what can he do when his love might not be what you need?

© zenokei | do not repost, copy, or use my works.

#blue lock #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk #blue lock x reader #sae xr reader #bllk x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae x you #zenokei | works #fanfiction

[littlemarianah]

Prompt: “How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?”

@tetheredfeathers and I started a challenge to write a text between 500 - 1000 words with this prompt.

Click >here< to see her version of this.

Just something fun to pass the time... I ended up writing my new non-reaped AU project, where Katniss and Peeta never go to the games.

I'm tagging these three incredible and talented writers to continue our challenge.

@mollywog @nightlocked-in @rainymyx

title:

The streak of luck.

A tide of luck had swept over me the last few weeks. Spring is always the best time of year to find things in the woods, but this year I outdid myself. I found two bee hives full of honey. It was very painful and I spent days recovering from the bee stings, but I managed to bring two bags full of honeycombs to sell on the rob. Honey is a rare item in district twelve, so it made me a lot of money.

I think that since spring began, there hasn't been a day that goes by that I don't come home with something to sell with. From juicy wild berries to Turkeys, swallows and wild dogs. I've been finding things more valuable lately.

This month, we had the luxury of spending more stuff than just on food. I was able to buy new boots for Prim, cold coat for me and a supply of oils for my mother to make ointments and resell.

And in the end there was still money left. So I bought a sewing thread and a needle. I grabbed my mother's old white dress from the back of the closet. She and Prim did all the repairs for me. Then I took my dress to Hazelle and paid her a good amount to wash it. She asked me for bleach, to remove the yellow stains from age and mold. Then she asked me for violet fabric paint. It was difficult to find something like that on the black market, it ended costing me a whole rabbit.

I was afraid it would turn my dress purple, but she said that the dye mixed in hot water removes all the yellow stains and makes the dress white like never before.

She was right. It was so beautiful it looked like I had bought it brand new.

As I get older and become more and more like my mother, her dress looks more and more like it was made out for me. The straight cut at the collar makes my long neck - which Peeta praises so much - stand out. The long sleeves hide my thin arms. The tight waist makes it my hips look more accentuated than they actually are. It's a simple dress, it looks like a nightgown. However, its fabric is so elegant that I look like a bride from the big city.

My mom puts my hair in a low bun and Prim makes a lavender flower crown to match spring.

The shoes I will wear are a problem. I only have my beat-up hunting boots and old school shoes. None suit the occasion. My mother's shoes are beautiful, but they are so tight on me. I refuse to spend the whole afternoon limping.

There is a third option, which I don't like very much. There are the shoes I used to wear at the reaping. The last time I wore them I was 19 years old, two years ago. This blue heels are so old they look gray.

I wish I had thrown them away, but you can never waste resources like that. Shoes are expensive. Even if they don't bring back good memories, they are still valuable. My mother cleans them and rubs them with lard to make them shiny. I feel weird, but it's my best option at the moment.

So here I am, dressed like a spring bride. And there he is, dressed like a merchant groom. Waiting for me at the door of the Justice Building.

He has combed his hair back and applied gel to keep the curls in place. A perfectly ironed white shirt, black pants with a silver buckle belt and a brown suit over everything, which make his shoulders pointy. He's perfect. On his feet are also his reaping shoes.

“You look so beautiful." he says.

“You too." I reply.

Then we link our arms and wait until they call us. I feel the heat radiating from Peeta. He doesn't usually get nervous, but today his forehead shines with sweat and he fixes his collar compulsively. So far I've counted five times in the last two minutes.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Oh, my brother lent me this shirt. It's itchy" He groans, awkwarly. I smile at him and he seems to relax.

There are several couples around us, waiting too. Everyone wants to get married in the spring.

Many young women in white. Some with lacy and chic dresses, others with old and yellowed, but all the same holding the hands of their lovers. The young men, one exhausted by work, one covered in coal dust, and another with elegant blue suits and shiny shoes.

We are all there, waiting to get to our turn.

When the door finally opens the old man calls out "Thompson" in a deep voice.

Then a couple enters, the girl with a veil and a garland and the boy with a leather hat. The two are shaking with so much excitement, they are completely in love. Still too young to free themselves from the burden of the Hunger Games. It's not good luck marry before you're 19. So I sigh, and wish them good luck on next summer.

After a few minutes, the couple leaves smiling and receives a round of applause from their family members who are waiting for them outside.

Then the man screams again "Greenwood".

An older, handsome boy, next to him is a blonde girl in a flashy dress. They are accompanied by their parents, elegant merchants. I start stomping my feet anxiously. I want to end the waiting once and for all. After a couple long minutes, they finally leave the building and when I least expect it the man is shouting for "Mellark". I head towards him as if he were calling my own name.

My witness is my mother, I wanted it to be Prim, but she is still a minor. Peeta's witness is his middle brother. He seems a little uncomfortable being there, but he pats Peeta on the back to encourage him.

“Mrs. Everdeen and Mr. Mellark, is it of their own free will that you both meet here today to be united in matrimony?” says the old man.

“Yes.” Peeta said vigorous.

“Yes.” I said in sequence, quieter revealing my nervousness.

Peeta takes my hand gently and squeezes it with his sweaty palm.

I thought I was calm until this moment, now I'm sure I'm terrified. While that old man talks boring things about marriage and laws and the importance of family I get lost in Peeta's flush face. His lips are tight and raised in a restrained smile. I feel my heart skip a beat.

When the man stops talking we each receive a pen. Peeta leans over the thick book first, writing “Peeta Mellark” in cursive. Then it's my turn, my hands shake and I sigh, before finally putting the ink on the paper.

I start with the "K" of my name, with a less sophisticated calligraphy than Peeta's. Now my tremor is visible to everyone around me. Peeta's eyes are the heaviest on me, they make me blush.

“How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?” I sigh. He giggles and looks away as I write "Mellark." My new last name.

#a little normality in their lives #just young people in love #They end up together in every universe #the hunger games #thg #writing prompt #prompt challenge #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #Everlark #non reaped #fanfic #I love them #thanks for reading

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Mist

@jegulus-microfic May 16, Word count 619

Previous part First part

Prompt - Mist

He flung the cloak over himself and slowly climbed the seven floors of stairs up to Gryffindor Tower. The spiral staircase was one too many and by the time he got to his bed he barely had enough energy to put the jar somewhere safe before he passed out. 

The next afternoon he met Regulus in the come and go room. He took with him the jar full of dew. 

“Wow you got it all!” Regulus exclaimed before darting forward and snatching the jar out of James’s hands. “You even got more than Remus said you needed to.” Regulus looked up at him with a hungry look in his eye. “What’s next? The full moon is in a few days. What do I do with the leaf?” He was almost bouncing off the walls. James had to take a second and remind himself that it was Regulus standing in front of him and not Sirius, the energy was that similar. 

Regulus settled as James carefully took the jar from his hands and led him over to the crystal phials. 

“Okay, you need to pick one of these for the next part,” He directed. Regulus scanned the shelves and selected an ornate phial. It was beautiful and entirely unnecessary for the animagus potion, but it screamed Regulus, so James didn’t say anything. “Right so on the full moon we’ll go outside again like last time and what you’ll do is hold the phial up, so the moonlight hits it, and then you remove the leaf and put it in the phial along with one of your own hairs.” Regulus nodded along absorbing the information. “Then,” James carried on. “The next morning you’ll need to add a silver teaspoon of the dew into the phial. You'll need to do this every day for the next seven days. Have you managed to get the death’s-head hawk moth chrysalis yet?”

“Yes, it’s safe in my trunk,” Regulus replied. 

“Excellent. So yeah, after seven days, add that to the phial, and then you need to put it somewhere quiet and dark, where no one is going to disturb it. You can’t look at it so you have to make sure it’s secure.” As if the room was listening, a small chest appeared on a shelf that James was certain hadn’t been there before. “Okay then. I guess you can put it there. And then this next bit is the most important bit. Twice a day, at sunrise and sunset, you need to speak this incantation with your wand over your heart.”  James demonstrated the pose and Regulus copied him. “Amato, Animo Animato Animagus,” He chanted. Regulus chanted the words back at him perfectly. 

“Amato, Animo, Animato Animagus.” James nodded excitedly.

“Yes, perfect. So you have to keep doing that until there’s a storm with lighting and that's when the real magic happens.” He clapped his hands together, making Regulus jump. “Oh, oh, in case I forget to say at some point you’re going to feel like you have another heart beat. It is totally normal, do not go and see Madam Pomfrey.” James warned. 

Again, he’d piled a lot of information onto Regulus, but Regulus didn’t seem at all phased. 

“You got anywhere you need to be?” He asked James. James shook his head no, and Regulus was on him. James picked him up and carted him off to the sofa. The fire roared to life in the grate as they neared, and they wasted the afternoon together. 

When the full moon came it was a cold, damp night. Mist swirled around their ankles as they gazed up at the night sky. The clouds parted, and they were bathed in pale moonlight. 

#may 16 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus fic #james potter #regulus black #dead gay wizards #james fleamont potter #regulus arcturus black #james x regulus #regulus x james #james potter x regulus black #james and regulus #regulus and james #the marauders era #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #the marauders’ era #animagus training #its starting to come together #mist

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 398: Cat n Mouse, p9

(audio available at my Patreon)

he’s in bed with you, when you stir. Her body’s epic musculature has receded back into her dramatic, womanly curves. She´s certainly softer. And right now, she knows soft is exactly what you need.

“Wh-what time is it?” you ask, groggy.

“Shhhh…shhh honey. You can just rest and relax,” she purrs, the warmest smile you’ve ever seen lighting your world, “I got you into bed, I’ve got you all cuddled up. You just lie back and relax. Here, let’s get some soft pillows behind you, these covers on. You stay niiiice and close and cuddled up to me, and I’ll keep you nice and safe and warm. You've got nothing else to worry about, it’s just you and me. I’m going to take care of everything for us. I’m gonna look after you. Okay just relaxxx that’s it. Just find a comfy position…here, I can help. Thaaaat's it. Is that okay? Is that good, us side-by-side like this? It is? Okay good. You just relax everything is okay and I'm here for you. I’m going to keep you niiice and comfortable and safe. Right here with me.”

What is she doing?

“You’ve been through so much today, you poor baby. I’ll take good care of you.”

Your breath, already, has shallowed. Your pulse, already, has quickened. You can feel your heartbeat thrumming in your chest and - jesus christ already? Didn’t you just…? - pulsing in your cock. Her voice…her voice is soft, sweet and warm, full of sensuous promise. You’re already under her spell.

“Here, I want you to scooch down and spread your legs a bit for me. Can you do that? Can you do that for me? Yeah? There you go…good boy..! Now I’ll take your head in my hand, and grab your cute little butt with the other, and I’ll just sliiiide you in. Oh ffff….oh fuck that’s good. Oh good boy…”

A moan, she moans in pleasure as your erection eases into her.

“Now I’ve got you,” she whispers, “there you go…now I’ve got you.”

She holds you. “Mmmm…yeah…how’s that feel?”

You grunt in response. It feels amazing.

“Sweetie…Is it okay if I push your head into my big warm boobs? Yeah? Uh huh? That’s okay? Ok then, c’mere sweetie. Oh such a good boy. We’ll start out slow…”

She moans, she moans again as her earthen hips gently begin to move, as she uses her hand to thrust your shrunken hips into her own, broader ones.

“Oh, yes. There we go. I’ll use my hand to pump your little hips into me.  Just like that. We have you all tucked in nice. You like how big I am? You like how my chest just surrounds your little face? I can barely see you in there, just the top of your little head <giggle!>.”

Giggles and coos as she begins to slowly, gently cuddlefuck you.

“I bet you can hear my heartbeat in there. Can you, sweetie? Can you hear my heart beating in your little ears?”

<thump-thump…thump-thump…>

“There you go, just listen to that…let it relax you…”

<thump-thump…thump-thump…>

“Oh you’re so cute, you’re so adorable. So little, so small and fragile <giggle!> I’m so, so much bigger than you. I just surround you.  And you want me to get even bigger, don’t you? You want me to be the biggest. Oh sweetie, yes, yes…I want that too. I want to be the biggest there is, the biggest ever. Are you ready? Are you ready to help me get huge? Okay…okay…say it. Say ‘Melissa…”

She pauses. She waits for you to speak. “C’mon, baby, say it. Say ‘Melissa…’”

“M-Melissa…” you stammer.

“Good boy. Now say ‘Melissa, I want you to grow bigger.’

“M-Melissa, I want you to grow bigger,” you repeat.

“Oh…fuck, yes. Oh, baby, that’s good. Good boy. That works, that works. Mmmmmm…you’re going to help me get so big. Say it again. Say “Melissa, I want you to grow bigger.”

You repeat it again.

“Oh, god, good boy. Good, good boy. Your hips are shivering in my hand. Are you cold baby? Are you cold down there? No? Just nervous? Oh, baby, there’s nothing to be nervous about, you’re safe with me. You’re safe when we’re together. Safe and warm. Just let me make you feel good, cutie.”

Cooing. She’s cooing to you like an infant.

“I just want to hug you forever, like a good little stuffed animal. Like a stuffed animal I can make feel sooo good <giggle>. A teddy bear I can fuck <giggle!>”

More cooing, and a little whine from you.

“Oh, is that a whimper I heard? Ooo, yes, it feels really good doesn’t it baby? Whimper for me again…oh yes, just like that. Whimper and whine my little baby-man. <giggle!> Show me how much you love me, show me how I’m the only one for you. You poor thing I can’t believe you’ve gone your whole life without knowing what it’s like to be loved like this, like the way you need. Big and soft and gentle like I can do for you. Yes, baby. Good boys like you need to be cuddflefucked. You need to be stripped down naked and held tight to us. Held down by soft ladies, by big giant jiggle-mommies while you’re told what a good boy you are.”

She giggles again as you groan.

“Yeah, that’s it…you’re such a good boy. Oh hold me tighter. Oh yes, what a good boy you are. You learn so fast.”

“Oh…what are you doing? What are you doing, hm? You want to suck on my nipple? Aww, okay. You can go right ahead, I’ll even guide you to it…there you go…There you go. You just relax and open up. Ooo there we go…good boy. Go ahead and latch on, go ahead and suck. Goooood boy.”

“Ohhh…baby, I want you even closer. Wrap your arms around me tighter. There, that’s right. You listen, you follow directions so good.  Let me..pull you in even deeper. There you go…there you go, feel that? Mmm…let me squeeze you even tighter.”

“Oh, baby…yes. Good boy, good baby. Keep suckling, keep pumping those little hips into me. Ooo, I feel you twitching, you’re shaking. Are you gonna come? Are you gonna come for mama?”

Oh god nnnnno…

You groan.

“Oooo <giggles!> I heard that! You like that? You like when I call myself ‘mama’?  Mmm? Do you? Mmm well okay..! We can do that. We can play like that. In fact, I can give you a countdown. 5…

That’s right, good, get ready

4…

Good boy, good boy

3…

That’s right, get ready to come for me.

2…

Come on baby that’s it, that’s right…1. Come for mama. Come on baby come for mama. Come inside her, good boyyyy…

Mmmm that’s  right…let it all out. Good boy, good boy. Let it allllll out.  That’s right, right into me, gentle, so gentle and nice. Right into mama. Come on, come…come for mama. Good boy. Gooooood boy…..”

More indulgent coos, more encouraging whispers as she talks you through. “That’s right. Good boy…good boy…Mmmmm….”

“Mmmm…yesss….was that nice? It was? Goood, good I’m glad.”

You start to shift; she holds you tight.

“Oh, No-no-no, shhhhhh, baby, no. Shhh. You don’t have to pull out. I want to hold you just like this and let you fall asleep. Shhhh. There you go, just like that. Stay inside mama. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe and warm, you can keep suckling if you want. Mmmhm? Yeah? Good boy…”

She’s purring to you.

“Oooo…there. I see those little eyes closing again. You go ahead, you go right back to sleep. Mama’s got you. You really are such a good boy…”

You're mommy’s good boy…

===================================

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#growingintothejob