f1ct1onalplaces

[f1ct1onalplaces]

The Seven Deadly

Matthew Murdock x y/n

Summary: This man is unwell but eventually finds peace (sorta).

TW: violence and religious trauma

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Matthew hadn’t seen the stream of light since the day of penance. 

In fact, it was the last thing he saw. The radiance of God blessed him one last time as his sight dipped into the depths of the abyss for eternity. With this, he felt a different light spark in his chest, one coated with sin. This abomination grew with each breath he drew. 

Matthew felt alone; hell, he was alone. No gift came without a price, and he paid it due with each passing day. These hardships tore him further from the one above, and so came the deadly seven from down below. 

If only God watched as the world fell to pieces, then who better to fix his mess than the Devil of Hell’s kitchen. With each victory, pride walked all over Matthew. God believed him to be poor in faith, so why use his given alms under the Father’s name?

“Father, You hate pride, so deliver me from it.”

With the immoral doors swung open, six more sins pranced their way into Matthew’s life. Greed fed his need for justice, excusing the wrath inflicted upon others. The guilt gnawing at his rib cage, desperate to sink its teeth into his heart, was kept at bay courtesy of gluttony. This desire drove him to the bars each night, drinking away any doubts or thoughts of being a deist. His covetous gaze was empty in sight but full of lust as the voices of flirtatious women tried to lure him away. Yet, it was envy that kept him isolated as he was certain their tales of success and blessings were not a tactic to get him in bed but God’s way of lessening Matthews’ excellence. These pent-up feelings led to his lack of time and sloth attitude when it came to attending mass. There was no need if all was to be repelled by his lack of love. 

Yet, that was then, and this is now. 

The morning light streamed into Matthew’s bedroom, never stirring him but she who lay beside him. 

Her being, her soul, one too pure to stand trial next to his own tainted, damaged soul. It was she who found him bleeding and on his knees after his fall from grace. The guilt had finally chewed through his bone, reaching and devouring the sins from his body, but in its wake, it left a gaping cavity in his chest. 

At first, Matthew attempted to atone for his mistakes the catholic way. He began attending mass once more, often facing his wrongdoings in confession. When that no longer suffices for his needs, Matthew turned to the seven heavenly virtues.

As time passed, Matthew dedicated himself to such holy principles. He truly tried to set a righteous path, but each attempt left the echo of his grandmother’s voice in his head. 

“Be careful of the Murdock boys. They got the Devil in them.” 

So he never atoned for past sins, but sin no more he did. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was not to be worshiped or even recognized, for that matter. All he wanted was to go unnoticed, fighting for all that God created in his name. 

First, he would need to seek forgiveness for the pain he would inevitably inflict. 

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name;

Matthew, hands wrapped with rope and clothes deeper than darkness, perched on a roof. He listened to the city below, the solemn sounds of Hell’s kitchen. 

Thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven.

A cry for help and a pleading prayer was all the Devil needed. It was he who was to save God’s nascency.

Give us this day our daily bread.

Bone crunched beneath his very own, shifting and rubbing until the tension in his chest released. Blood spilled, running down smooth skin, rich and thick with life. 

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Teeth seized with force, the root stringing with gum and blood as it fell to the asphalt. Pulp seeped from the abomination’s mouth, coating the bastard’s hands. He felt the sticky warmth run down his forearms and smiled. 

And lead us not into temptation;

Now, all that stood was a whimpering girl clutching a rosary to her chest. He heard the beads slide over her fingers as she muttered the prayer over and over. 

He had instilled a deep sense of fear in whoever was praying in his presence. 

But deliver us from evil.

For it was the Devil’s job to do so.

Amen. 

But when the red suit slipped off, so did the title. Instead, Matthew was a simple lawyer with the dying urge for justice. 

That’s how they met.

Their meeting had no dramatics but a coffee stain in a mundane cafe. She bumped into the blind lawyer, dumping the remains of her coffee all over the front of his white button-up. 

She apologized repeatedly, Matt hearing the sincerity in her heart’s rhythm, and offered to pay for his drink. He declined, but she insisted until they stood side by side in line to order. 

From that moment, Matthew found himself wandering to the same cafe around the time of their first meeting in hopes of running into her, and he did. This continued for ages, both acting as if running into each other was a coincidence. 

Then, one day, it became more, and now Matthew sleeps more soundly than ever. 

Y/N watched as his chest rose, and she couldn’t help but feel serene bliss with each breath he drew. 

Devil or not, he was hers. All of him. 

“It’s rude to stare at a blind man.”

The sudden presence of his voice startled her into reality, finally seeing his open eyes staring into the distance. 

She was sure he had been awake much longer than he let on. She could just imagine him, eyes still closed, listening to her change in the breath that came from the thought of him.

Warmth rose to her cheeks at just the thought of this. Even after all these years, she still felt embarrassed when Matthew saw right through her, reading her emotions without even uttering a word. 

She groaned, moving her elbow that previously propped up her body above his, and fell into the bed sheets, hiding her face. 

This was a position of embarrassment, but to Matthew, it quickly became a place of worship. Y/N’s head bowed, neck craned into the velvet silk of his sheets. She was a concrete angel patiently waiting for his penance, unaware of the evil acts he would commit under her name if her stone were to split. 

This moment, her presence, somehow buried his catholic guilt in places not even he could find. 

The Bible says many things about love, and he used to believe undying adoration would cure him of his sins, yet a single verse came to Matthew’s mind. 

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:4–7 NIV).

And with the disappearance of his moral culpability came the Devil’s judgment. 

Love is sacrifice, and he would willingly sacrifice all deemed just under the lord’s eyes for her. 

Amen.

[f1ct1onalplaces]

Divine Worship

Castiel x Fem Character

Summary: Castiel loving and being loved.

TW: Religion, Human consumption metaphor

Castiel was an angel of the Lord, one to be feared and seen but never worshiped. Angels were merely here to do God's bidding. To pray upon or on them was to sin. Only God shall receive such treatment from his children. 

Yet, when she spoke of loving him, Cas only listened. 

"I love you more than life," she would whisper in the dead of night when only the stars could hear. 

No, she could not say such words. God gave her life; she must not take his gift for granted, for it was her laugh that brought life to the buds inside his chest. Every smile and touch bloomed these buds until he was ready to share his bouquet with her. 

"I love you more than I should." She shouldn't love him at all. He was undeserving of such feelings. To him, love was what he had known all his life. Love is to protect. Protect the word of God. Ensure the security of Heaven. Punish the undeserving. But this. She did not love him in such a way. 

She loved the way rosemary craved the sun. Gentle and soft, full of life, full of light. She was his sun, and that couldn't be. Without her, he would wither away. The bouquet in his chest would wilt away to nothing, leaving a gaping wound that would bleed for eternity. 

"I love you more than God." Castiel, the angel of the Lord's mind, went silent. The wind blew through his head, swirling in and out. 

She wasn't allowed to say that.

Yet, He wanted to hear it again. He wanted her to speak it slower and softer until it became gospel. 

This was treason. He should shove her to the ground and command that all her love was sick until directed to his almighty. But he did none of that. 

Castiel pulled her closer, held her tighter in the way a grieving loved one clutched their rosary and buried his head deeper into the dip of her shoulder. 

"Say that again," he growled in desperation.

"I love you more than God, Castiel." The feeling this gave him could never be explained. All he wanted was her. And the sudden urge to consume every piece of her was overwhelming. He would start with her hands. Hold them to his chest and kiss each finger, praising what held him so perfectly—pressing them deeper into his sternum until they were falling into the cavity of his breasts. He needed to feel her heart against his. Beating into each other, vessels tangled until her blood was running through his veins—the immoral act of it all. The gory details twisted together until bone was scraping bone. 

"No," was the only thing Castiel could utter in between thoughts of her teeth sinking into each and every one of his pulse points.

"I love you more than God."

[f1ct1onalplaces]

St. Helena

Song Prompt: https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=S2QzdhByO20

Summary: Matthew Murdock and his religious guilt.

Word count: 314

TW: Religious guilt and blood

A/N: The song, like the title, is St. Helena by sore!, and it is sooo good! It inspired me to write this little blurb and hopefully more in the future. For anyone who's requested something, I promise to get on it, and I apologize for my disappearance.

P.S. The prayer in the story is called Anima Christi.

His knees touched the cold cement of the basement floor. 

Matthew had long given up his faith, but some habits grasped on like the devil. In many ways, the dark blood that tainted the light lived within him. It consumed his being, rising with each breath and falling with each beat.

There was no point in trying to rid it like he did years ago. He was just a boy when the pleads of a new lineage escaped his lips. Murmurs of faith. 

Now, he clasped his hands not in belief but in hope.

Everyone and everything around him had failed. He was alone in this world, and the beggar below clenched this isolation relentlessly. 

There was no one to keep Matthew in their thoughts. No one whispered grace in his absence. 

His own blood coated his skin, the barrier between thy lord and thy soul. 

It was time to beseech for forgiveness, to the church's figment of faith. Matthew had been convicted of several sins and was now facing God's wrath. 

“Soul of Christ, sanctify me,

Body of Christ, save me,” he spoke in the tone of an unbeliever. 

It would take more than this to convince the Holy One of his guilt. Yet he had little to give.

“Blood of Christ, inebriate me.”

He was no St. Helena. He had no news to bring. 

“Water from the side of Christ, wash me.”

Matthew Murdock was not worthy of lying upon Christ’s Cross, and he never would be. 

“Passion of Christ, strength me.”

He was more than a man in a mask. Like a vulture, he fed on death. 

“O Jesus, hear me.”

The prayer stopped, wrapped in the silence of religion. 

As suspected, not a soul has heard. He was utterly and truly alone. 

Matthew Murdock: The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. 

The lost child of a dead man and a repenting woman. 

[f1ct1onalplaces]

Driving 101

Steve Harrington x GN!reader 

Summary: Steve teaches you how to drive the right way. 

Tw: Cursing and mentions of absent parents 

“Stop. Stop. Holy shit stop the car!” Steve yells as he grabs the wheel, swerving away from the pole as I hit the break. 

The car lurches forward before halting directly beside the pole. 

My heart pounds as I slowly turn to look at Steve whose face is buried in his hands. His hair hangs above his forehead but perfectly falls back into position as he lifts his head. 

“What don’t you understand about stop?” I shrug, a sheepish smile spreading across my face. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was gonna hit it.” He now turns to face me. 

“No shit,” he says, sighing “But you’re learning, so reverse, and let’s go around one more time.” 

I murmur another apology before bringing the car back and then slowly inching forward, staying clear of the pole. 

When my half birthday had come around I had begged my parents to take me driving. Not because I particularly wanted to drive, but with two very busy parents even getting to school always presented itself as a challenge. Though one month turned into two and two turned into six. My birthday came and went without ever touching the steering wheel. 

So when Steve gave me a ride for the hundredth time he offered to teach me.  

“Okay, make sure to take your foot off the gas and coast before you begin to break.” 

I do as he says, releasing the gas as I approach a stop sign. 

Suddenly Steve’s yelling at me to break again, so I do but I’m confused as to why until a car backs out of a driveway at full speed.Our cars are inches apart. 

A man sticks his head out the window and yells, eyes locked with mine. 

“Hey watch where you're going.” He sounds annoyed as if I’m the one at fault.

Though, where I’m perfectly comfortable with just ignoring him, Steve seems ready to jump out and fight this man. 

“Yeah, okay says the dipshit who didn’t look before pulling out,” Steve shouts back, half his body through the window. I look at Steve.

“Isn’t that a little childish?” I ask, but they're not done yet 

“Bastard.” 

“Dipshit.” He yells before sitting back in his seat and rolling up the window. The other car drives away without another word, but a hand sticks out with a raised middle finger.

Without hesitation, Steve returns the gesture before acknowledging my question. 

“Not at all. It’s all part of the driving experience.”

  So I nod before rolling down my own window and even though the car is long gone a yell “fuck you” for good measure. 

“Like that?” Steve laughs. 

“Exactly like that.” 

[f1ct1onalplaces]

Lainey Molnar

[f1ct1onalplaces]

Visit Me?

a/n: Hello fabulous people! Okay I am definitely a Korrasami shipper, so I never really shipped Mako with either of them and I found him annoying in Seasons 1,2, and 3. Though, with that said I enjoyed his character in season 4 and felt like writing something with his character in that season. Enjoy!

P.s. I definitely did not edit this and it's not my best writing, so sorry about that.

TW: angst and almost smut

The hotel bed is small but comfortable and the only other thing in the room is a desk crammed beside a lamp. It isn’t anything grand, though every time she thinks about how she ended up here a smile spreads across her face.

It's been months since y/n got a proper day off from her job as a writer for The Republic City Times. With the air benders taking over for the Avatar, Kuvira rebuilding the Earth Kingdom, and Prince Wu’s coronation tomorrow there had been so much to keep the city informed about that she was constantly busy.

So, Mako had planned a little getaway for the two of them. Okay, well it isn’t exactly a vacation since they were both still working, but staying in a hotel (even a tiny one) always makes everything better.

With the coronation, tomorrow Mako has been given the night off to rest up before Prince Wu’s big day. Thus, his first thought wasn’t to take a night for himself but how he could spend time with his girlfriend. Sadly, it isn’t much time.

Even as she sits up in the bed waiting for Mako she is furiously writing away. Her boss had asked her to write about the Avatar’s disappearance even though there was very little that anyone knows about it.

Y/n had asked Mako about it (off the record of course) and all he knew was that Korra had left the South pole six months ago to make her way here, but obviously, that didn’t pan out.

She has never met Korra considering she only moved to Republic City a year after the Avatar defeated the Red Lotus.

The door slowly cracks open until a familiar figure appears.

“You’re not supposed to be working.” Y/n has just finished her story and at this she quickly lets the papers fall beside the bed.

“Who said I was,” she says smirking. Though when she looks up to see Mako’s neatly kept hair, plain uniform, and saddened expression her smile falls.

“What’s wrong?” She scoots over, crating room for them both. This is her invitation for him to come join her on the bed but he simply stands there. She watches as his expression changes from sorrow to anger.

Y/n hasn’t seen that look since his first day of being Wu’s bodyguard.

“No, they didn’t.” Her movements are quick as she slips off the bed making her way to him.

Mako isn’t always very forward with his emotions so when a tear slides down his cheek it hurt her as well.

Y/n wraps her arms around his waist and he quickly buries his head into her shoulder, bringing her even closer.

“They have to let you back on as a detective. You’re the best they have.” It takes him some time to respond. His breathing is heavy and her sleeve slowly becomes damp. In the meantime she holds his head, raking her fingers through his hair, giving him the time he needs.

“I’m so angry.” Mako’s voice is no louder than a whisper, a confession that carries more than his conflicting feelings.

“But, why would they even do this? Wu will be crowned king tomorrow and return to Ba Sing Se. Then Beifong can have her best detective back. It doesn’t add up.” Mako lets out an uneven sigh and kiss’s the exposed skin of her neck.

“It’s not that she doesn’t want me back it’s that she can't. Wu personally requested me to stay his bodyguard.” She lets in a sharp breath.

“Beifong can't refuse. Her hands are tied,” Mako finishes, finally looking up at her.

Y/n wants to be nothing but comforting in this situation because she knows how much he hates his current job, but now it was taking him away from her. She fights the tears from surfacing.

“Oh Mako, I’m so sorry.” His hands are now back at his sides, eyes searching her own. She knows he wants her to say that she will join him in the capital of the earth kingdom, but she can’t. Her job and life are here, granted he has become a huge part of it. She can’t just drop everything and leave. Right?

Instead of answering she grabs his wrist and drags him to the bed. She crawls on and he follows. Y/n sits with her back against the headboard and Mako rests his head in her lap. She runs her hands through his hair, messing up his neatly combed side part.

“At least come visit me?” His chin tilts back so that he can see her face. It was then that she finally understood. He didn’t expect her to go with him, it probably didn’t even cross his mind. Mako was concerned that she didn’t want to do the whole long-distance dating and would ultimately decide to end things.

“Of course, I will.” She leans down, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. She’s about to pull away, ready to give him any needed space, but he tilts his head, causing their lips to meet. It’s quick, nothing extravagant due to the awkward angle, but he seems determined to change that.

With a swift motion he sits up, legs spread apart, and pulls y/n close enough that her hands gripped his jacket. Mako kiss’s her again, his hands firmly pressed to her jaw as he deepens the kiss.

A soft sigh escapes her lips as he moves his hands below her shirt, calloused fingers gripping her waist. At this he smiles against her lips, only making her want him more. Y/n begins to fumble with the buttons of his jacket and quickly rids him of it to only find another shirt.

By this time Mako has moved down, his lips trailing her jaw, and he stops to chuckle at the sound of her annoyed huff.

“Eager are we?” His voice is low, teasing and this only makes her stomach tighten. He quickly removes the only thing blocking y/n from running her hands down his bare chest. She wastes no time immediately outlining his toned stomach with her finger while he finds the sweet spot on her neck.

This would be their last night together for a while and neither wanted to waste it sulking about the future. They have right now, a moment that will be spent loving one another unconditionally. And they intended to just do that.

[f1ct1onalplaces]

a/n: Here’s a little Genya hc on how she would react with you having a cold. Nothing to long but just enough for one of my favorite GrishVerse women.

TW: none

Sick Days

You wake up sick, a sore throat and a headache but it’s not enough to keep you away from your work.

And of course the one day you feel like death happens to be the same day loads of meetings were scheduled.

So at the end of the day Genya (who had business elsewhere) hears from Zoya how terrible you sounded.

So, she finishes her work as quickly as possible before going to visit you.

She finds you in your bedroom, hunched over trying to complete your paperwork with tears in your eyes.

Your headache had only worsened throughout the day and trying to read with bright lights caused your brain to light on fire.

Genya immediately blows out the lamp as you finally give up, resting your head against the table.

“Darling, why aren’t you resting?”

She leans down, places a kiss to your cheek before bringing her fingers to your forehead.

The pain in your head dulls to a throb and as the tension releases you let out a sigh.

Genya takes your hand and leads you to your bed.

She sits on the sheets and you lay down, resting your head in her lap.

Genya’s thumb swipes over your cheek, a loving touch that begins to lull you to sleep.

She doesn’t stop until you are in a deep sleep and when she does it is because her breathing slows.

The next morning you wake up still a bit under the weather but in a much better mood especially when you see Genya’s bed head.

Even the Queen of perfect hair can’t be upset when you smile at her like she is your world.

[f1ct1onalplaces]

Do you suppose you could make an Inej and Jasper friendship drabble? I loved their relationship in the books. They were such amazing (sassy) friends. Thank you so much <3

A/N: Hello people! I absolutely love this request and I had so much fun writing it. This takes place before SOC but I haven’t read the books in a while so I hope I do these two justice. Please keep in mind that this won’t follow the TV show and is more like the books. Again this is an amazing request and thank you for the ask.

P.S. I probably won’t answer requests this fast in the future, but today I had the time

TW: Indications of sadness

Lifting Spirits

The day was wet, the air humid and strangely it reminded Inej of her old life. The way it was before Tante Heleen, before the dregs, before Kaz Brekker.

She sat in the back of the crows club preparing for tonight. The job was nothing she hadn’t done before. It was simply hiding and listening, her specialty and the exact reason she had been asked to join the dregs.

Inej leaned forward and put all of her energy into sharpening Sankta Alina, not wanting to dwell on the before for too long.

That’s when Jesper entered the club. He wore his usual get-up as he strolled in, hands placed on the pearl handles of his precious revolvers.

Initially, he had come to play with the few kruge he had but was detoured when he saw Inej.

She knew the moment he had entered the club, so when he walked over to her table she merely continued to sharpen her metal saint.

“Hello Jesper it is just so lovely to see you,” Jesper spoke, knowing full well that she knew he was here. “Well, thanks Inej! I always love lifting your spirits by just gracing you with my presence.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight back the smile that was slowly growing on her lips.

Inej set down the bone-handled knife and looked up the same time Jesper slid into the booth.

“Hi, Jesper.” His eyes glanced down to her knife that sat on the table. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

“Ooo what’s the boss have you up to?” His tone was light and a little lower for a dramatic effect.

Jesper was always up for a good fight and if he couldn’t have that then a thrilling tale would have to do. In this case, he was ready to hear how the Wraith is going to get what Kaz wanted.

“Just some reconnaissance,” she said, pausing dramatically before continuing. “In case plans go south. You know how it is” He in fact did not know and she was well aware of that. To her, it wasn’t anything exciting, but if you knew Jesper everyday things became thrilling if you played into his games.

“Ahh, I see.” He nodded and placed his fingers against his chin as if deeply pondering. “The bastard and his tendencies of paranoia.” Jesper was trying his hardest to keep a serious face, but the more he tried to fight off a smile the funnier his face looked. Inej couldn’t help but laugh.

They both knew that Kaz wasn’t paranoid but safe. Well, not exactly safe as in staying inside and locking the door, but making sure that his deals never fell through. It was Ketterdam and the only reason it was filled to the brim with every type of human was because of the whisper of money (though Nina liked to argue that it was the waffles that brought everyone to the city).

“Hey, I’m gonna go play a few rounds. Want to come?” Jesper smiled, raising from his seat. Usually, Inej would try and shine some light on his poor decision-making skills, but she had a few hours to kill and was having too much fun to decline. This is not at all how she thought the day would go. You really could look to Jesper to lift your spirits.

He, and everyone else who she considered a friend, was a good reminder that even though life can rip everything you know a way, it has its means of apologizing and patching up some of the cracks.

She smiled back and nodded. Jesper let out a whoop of excitement.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll be the luck I’ve always been searching for.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the nearest table.

As he began the first round Inej quickly sent a little prayer up to the saints, thanking them for what she had gained.

[f1ct1onalplaces]

Good Heart

a/n: Hi friends! This is a Carol Danvers x y/n fic. This takes place about five years after the movie Captain Marvel. I wrote this per request of my sister who asked me to write a Carol one shot.

P.S. just a little reminder that my requests are open! Oh and apologizes for any grammar/spelling mistakes.

TW: Sadness and indications of death

I stand on the balcony of my one-bedroom apartment staring up at the sky. A light appears up above, causing my heart to skip and then fall only to realize it was nothing more than a shooting star. My feet begin to move, pacing back and forth in an attempt to calm my nerves.

She’s never been this late. Don’t get me wrong Carol can take care of herself, but when she’s galaxies away defending universes I can’t help but worry.

The first time I saw her was back at my childhood home in Louisiana. I was fresh out of college and wanted to spend time with my family before starting a new chapter in my life. At the time the world didn’t know her as Captain Marvel, actually, the world didn’t know her at all. Our little neighborhood knew her as Carol Danvers, Maria Rambeau’s dead best friend.

So, when I went over to say hello to my favorite neighbors and saw Carol and Maria hugging in their front yard I froze. There in front of me was a dead woman, or who we all presumed dead.

It took only seconds for Carol to spot me, charge, and have me pinned to the grass. I cried out in pain as my face dug into the ground. Maria tried to pry her off me yelling that we were neighbors and that I used to babysit Monica all the time, but she wouldn’t budge. “I’ll release her when she proves she isn’t a Skrull.” Her voice was tight, unwavering, and not at all convinced, I was who Maria said I was. I continued to struggle in her grip but was told multiple times by Rambeau to relax.

Then I was interrogated and told to recall memories in detail that Maria was present for. All I remember from that is me rambling everything I could remember and eventually being released.

So yeah, not the best first impression on her part but once I saw a Skrull with my own eyes and they explained the situation I never seemed to be able to get her out of my mind. As I continued to reminisce in the past I had no clue I wasn’t alone until a luminous light shone right in front of me.

“Now what could cause a lovely, lovely woman like yourself to be smiling that wide.” My head whips to the side to see the blond-haired woman I helpless fell for land on the balcony. I rush towards her and bury my head in her shoulder before wrapping my arms around Carol.

“Hello, Darling.” She hugs me back

“What took you so long,” I say, my voice muffled from her suit. She sighs, resting her head on my shoulder.

“I was finishing up some business. That’s all.” My lips turn into a frown and I pull away so I can look her in the eyes. I know what she does and when she makes it sound like all she did was go to a boring work meeting I know Carol is leaving something out.

“What is it?” She avoids looking me in the eyes and I can see the tears that rim her eyes. A single tear rolls down and the next time she speaks it’s barely a whisper.

“I. I couldn’t save them all.” I immediately regret asking and pull her into a hug.

“Carol I’m so sorry for asking.” My heart rapidly pounds beneath my ribs as I scramble to fix my mistake.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you into something you’re not comfortable talking about. Though I do think that whatever it is that happened I believe, no I know that you did your best. Carol, you have a good heart and as long as you followed it, I know that you helped everyone as best as you could.”

It’s her turn to bury her face into my shoulder. She lets out a shaky breath.

“I missed you so much.” I squeeze her a little tighter.

“Me too.”

[f1ct1onalplaces]

More Than Me

A/N: Hey lovelies! I am super sorry for not posting in months! I had writer’s block for a while and was struggling to write anything. Though it finally cleared and I am here to present you a Nikolai Lantsov fic! It’s not my best work but I hope you enjoy it!

P.S. I am always open to criticism and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes.

TW: Kissing, intimate touching, and mentions of overworking

Summary: Sometimes even the King of Ravka needs to take a break and he wants to stay in bed all day with you.

Sleep never comes easy when you have a whole country to look after. The fear of everything falling apart while I rest for a couple of hours or mountainous piles of paperwork keeping me up into the late hours of the night.

Though, it always helps that I have someone working just as hard as I was all the time. Nikolai, who in no doubt is a workaholic, always kept a better mindset than I did when it came to meetings and all the work that came with being the rulers of Ravka.

This didn’t mean that we never slept. So, when all the sleepless nights finally caught up with us Nikolai declared a day off for the both of us.

The only reason he was taking a day off was because I desperately needed one and he was smart enough to know that I would refuse unless he joined me.

That’s how I ended up in bed at twelve in the afternoon just waking up from the best night of sleep I’ve had in a while.

I rub my eyes and squint as the afternoon light peeks through the curtains, dimly lighting the room.

I turn to the side, my cheek resting against the pillow, and see a golden-haired boy. I smile at his sleep-ridden face and am surprised that he wasn’t up hours ago. He definitely needed this more than I did.

I lift my hand to move a piece of hair that has fallen forward against his forehead. Though the second the tip of my finger makes contact his hand shoots up and grabs my wrist.

“Good morning my love.”

“Shhhh,” I say, ripping my wrist free, “go back back to sleep.” Nikolai’s eyes finally open, showing the hazel color that always looks greener when he first wakes up.

“But then what would you do my dear?” I press my lips together, holding back a smile. There is no need to encourage his stubborn attitude, but that voice. . . The huskiness.

A second too late I realize I took too long to answer as a smirk grows on his lips. So, for good measure, I roll my eyes and turn on my back.

“You are insufferable.” He laughs and apparently takes my words as an invitation to inch closer to me.

“What are you doing?” Nikolai stops and gasps.

“Am I not allowed to hug my partner?”

“Saints, you’re dramatic.”

“Oh but you love it.” I hold my tongue and instead huff, not trusting my words.

I don’t necessarily love his drama but it’s something I’ve come to find comfort in.

Without anything left to say Nikolia continues his descent in my direction.

A second later his face is right above mine and suddenly heat rushes in my cheeks.

“Hi.” I eternally cringe at myself. I have been with Nikolai for years now, but he still manages to catch me off guard, and when he does. Well, I get nervous.

“Hey,” he says, and again that voice. I let my teeth sink into my lower lip, holding back a shy smile.

Nikolai balances on his forearm while his other hand comes up to stroke my face.

“You really are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen.” Now I can’t help but smile.

“Nik, what did we say about getting this sappy in the morning.” He moves his hand down to my waist, his fingertips grazing the sliver of skin that peeks out from my top.

“Hmm, let me think.” Suddenly Nikolai’s face comes closer until his lips press above my brow.

“Something about how much you love me.” He moves down and kisses the top of my nose.

“And how it makes you lazy.” His lips then make contact with my cheek.

“Because you can only think about me.” Nik moves down a little and use’s his mouth to trace up my neck.

Instinctively I tilt my head back, giving him more access. At this, he stops and smirks.

“I don’t think I said any of that.” My stomach turns in anticipation of what Nikolai intends to do.

“Really? Well, I’m sure that’s what you meant to say.”

Then finally, his lips meet mine. At first, it’s slow, both of his hands placed on my hips and my arms slung around his neck.

Though, the second he bites down on my lip I let out a sigh. This seems to snap him out of whatever trance he is in. Suddenly his mouth presses harder against mine.

My hands move down his back until they meet the hem of his shirt. I let my fingers slip beneath the fabric until my nails are scratching against his bare skin.

Nik lets out a quiet moan that causes heat to move towards my core.

A series of loud bangs stop us immediately.

“Y/N,” Zoya shouts. “You need to come sign a few papers.” Her voice implies nothing but seriousness and annoyance that she has to be here in the first place.

Nikolai's head falls into the crook of my neck before shouting back.

“I’m sorry they’re not here right now, may I take a message?” The second he says that I shake my head knowing that there is no getting out of this, especially when it was Zoya telling us.

“Nikolai Lantsov if you don’t get off of them this instant I will blow this door down and pry you off.” I chuckle softly before nudging Nik off of me. He doesn’t put up a fight and slowly flops against the sheets.

“I’m coming,” I yell as I proceed to get up and search for clothes. Then once a pair of trousers and top is put over my body I rush to the mirror, trying to quickly make myself look presentable.

Once I’m finished I turn back to Nikolia.

“Get dressed, when I’m finished we should eat something.” He grunts in agreement and I laugh as I leave to go with Zoya.

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Uncle Iroh is a really smart , wise man , and he’s always so helpful to Zuko , but he really did him dirty with that hair style on his date

Like this is one of the few things that Iroh did wrong adjsktv what the hecc Iroh

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hey besties. i did this thing. and thought it looked cool

book: red white and royal blue

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Currently in love with the GrishaVerse woman, a sharp shooter, and a Privateer. Life is great.

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WAFFLE WIFE 🖤💜

Art by @ loshimizu_art on Instagram

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a very goodnight to adam and his trauma and insecurities and the gentle way he makes everyone fall in love with him. goodnight to blue who never felt like she was enough, was unable to form close bonds for so long, who stood up for herself always and was true to herself even when it hurt. goodnight to gansey who has obsessive tendencies and hyper-fixates on dead welsh kings and says things like “brilliant” and “top shelf” and put everyone before himself because he felt he didn’t deserve to be overwhelmed in the same way. goodnight to ronan who was always angry and when he wasn’t angry he was happy so wonderfully happy and swore like it was his longest held vice and loved people deeply and quietly. sweet dreams to noah who was there helping everything unfold, who was around when people didn’t even know they needed him, who loved glitter and his friends and living. goodnight to henry who has a grin like a fool, a learned caution, a loyalty, a want for more, and couldn’t always express himself the way he wanted to do.

to chainsaw, and opal, and robobee.

to persephone.

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Please get your COVID-19 vaccination. This will help protect you and everyone around you.

More information: https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/coronavirus/covid19-vaccine-hesitancy-12-things-you-need-to-know