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#'we swore that death would do us part'
ruleofvee · 1 year
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set it off produces bangers so consistently
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ssaanaaloves · 8 months
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dalekofchaos · 6 months
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AU Asami is Amon by nikoniko_808
Give me the forbidden enemies to lovers Korrasami
Okay I wrote up my own au of Asami as Amon
Hiroshi and Asami witnessed the death of Asami’s mother at the hands of the Red Lotus society. Asami swore revenge on all benders. The corruption of Benders has gone too far and Asami and her father cannot let it continue. So they create a movement. The Equalists. Near the end of season 1. Asami would be nowhere to be seen. The Krew believes the Equalists have kidnapped Asami and when Korra confronts Amon, they don’t see her.
Tarrlok is still captured by Amon, when Korra sees him and they chat, he tells the whole story of Amon as it happened in the show to her and everything. Like it goes in the show. Korra and friends go to confront Amon at the arena where Tenzin and his family are about to lose their bending. But they don’t because she gets there in time. She accuses Amon of being a bender, as per Tarrlok’s story. Amon doesn’t unmask. And he isn’t a bender. Tarrlok lied to get Korra to confront Amon so that he could capture her and he could hopefully save his own skin for the service at least. They fight. Amon takes Korra’s bending in a big demonstrative way. So all the crowd can see what comes to any benders, especially The Avatar who stand against him. Then the reveal happens. Asami is Amon.
In order to get her bending back and learn how to give others their bending back (yeah, Korra wouldn’t get it back at the end of Book 1 because consequences? What’re those?), Korra has to go on a quest to learn her bending(her masters would be Toph, Katara, Izumi and Tenzin) in the Spirit World to understand everything. Korra does not cry about loosing her bending because she realized she’s still The Avatar and has to go to The Spirit World to get her bending back, to help everyone get their bending back and stop Asami
Throughout the series, we would meet Kya, Bumi, Izumi, Eska, Desna(Eska and Desna would be Korra’s siblings in this universe, because fuck Unaloq) Opal and Kai. We have the same romance between Bolin and Opal and Jinora and Kai. We would also meet Varrick and Zhu Li, because they are comedy gold. They would all help in the fight against Amon and the Equalists.
In Korra’s venture to the Spirit World,
she would still see Wan’s story(because that’s the only thing I liked about Book 2) and I think in her journey in the spirit world she would see Asami’s story, in which her family were victims of the Red Lotus society and Asami learned to take bending away in the spirit world. Not only that, we would find out that Asami would be bonded with Vaatu. Asami is the darker Avatar.
Before she leaves The Spirit World she connects with all her past lives to ask what she should do about Asami. Korra has her Aang moment where she has too has to decide what to do like he did with the fire lord, only this time there’s more to it than just stopping the bad guy. It’s about the person she loved. She can restore everyone’s bending by reversing Amon’s convergence, but she can’t do that so long as the avatar spirit is split. And as long as Asami is part avatar, she can go into the avatar state. That’s still pretty damn dangerous even with only water and blood bending. Korra realizes the only thing she can do to stop Asami? Love her.
After her journey to relearn her bending and journey in the spirit world, Korra travels the world to gain allies. From the Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, Water Tribes and Air Nomads. Korra unites the world against Amon and the Equalists.
In the final fight, Korra defeats Amon. She exorcises Vaatu from Asami, thus ending the dark Avatar and stopping Amon’s convergence. She reverses what Asami has done and uses it to restore everyone’s bending. So she has to come to the hard part. Amon makes it clear, no matter what, even without the ability to energy bend or without Vaatu, Amon will never stop, Benders will never be safe. Korra shows Asami what she was denied. Korra loves her and forgives her. Asami gives up and accepts whatever punishment.
During Book 3, Asami would work with Korra in stopping and killing the Red Lotus society. However, when Zaheer is stopped. He is left at the mercy of Asami and for everything he’s done and turned her into. Asami kills him.
Book 4 happens. Asami’s redemption is rebuilding Republic City and using Future Industries to repair the damage she’s done as Amon. Blah blah blah Korra stops Kuvira blah blah. Asami earns her redemption and the love of Republic City, the krew and more importantly Korra. Ends with Korra and Asami venturing in the Spirit World and ends with a kiss.
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surftrips · 9 months
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luke x daughter of aphrodite!! maybe a super cute fluff where they help luke show percy around and just their experience with percy!
-🥽 anon
stop this prompt is soo cute ! thanks for sending it in <3
"You okay?" Luke asked the newest camper in his cabin.
"Super."
"We all have them, you know." Luke clicked his tongue. "Intense, recurring nightmares. That's normal here. For the first time in your life, you're just like everyone else."
"So are you also... Do you not know who your..." the blonde boy began to ask.
"Am I unclaimed?" Luke shook his head. "No, Hermes is my father. That doesn't matter though, we're all on the same team here."
"Why is it okay they ignore some of us?"
"Spend too much time figuring out what the gods do whatever it is they do, you'll drive yourself crazy. Sooner you can stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer."
"And what's that?"
Luke smiled, guiding Percy out the door to show him the rest of camp.
The two boys ran into Clarisse and the Ares kids first. Luke explained to Percy that the Ares kids were always confrontational and brutally honest, but he had nothing to worry about, as long as he was around.
"Come on, let's go figure out what you're good at."
After crossing off archery and metalworking, and dodging several near death experiences, they sat down for lunch.
"Is there a Greek god of disappointment?" Percy sighed.
"We're gonna find the thing you're good at, I know it," Luke reassured him. "We should try-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Luke's eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face, causing Percy to turn around.
A girl came over to Luke's side of the table and kissed the top of his head. "Hi, love."
Luke beamed, turning toward Percy. "Y/N, this is Percy, I'm giving him the tour. Percy, Y/N. She's in Aphrodite."
That much he could tell, Percy thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.
"Ah, bonjour! Comment ça va?" she asked him.
Percy looked confused, only recognizing the first part of the sentence. "Uhhh... hello?"
Y/N smiled softly, "Guess he's not in Aphrodite then. Any luck finding out your skill, Percy?"
"No, unforunately," Percy grumbled.
"Aw, don't worry. Soon enough you'll be like Luke here," she had moved to sit in his lap by now, one of his arms curled around her waist. "Did you know he's the best swordsman at camp?"
She looked at Luke proudly, Percy swore he saw hearts instead of pupils in her eyes.
"I think it's come up once or twice," Percy responded.
The Aphrodite girl smiled again, "Have you shown Percy the lake yet?" she asked Luke.
"No, not yet. Do you want to come with us?"
"You mean, do I want to show him the place where we met? Is that even a question?"
The trio finished up their food and headed back outside. Y/N led the way, her presence enough to clear a path in the group of campers idling outside. Luke and Percy followed a few feet behind her.
"So... how long have you two been...?" Percy asked shyly.
"Three years. Since we were 16," Luke responded. Though Percy had only known Luke for about a day at this point, he couldn't help but notice how Luke's entire demeanor had changed since Y/N's arrival.
"Oh, wow. That's a long time."
"I got really lucky."
"What do you mean?"
"Before I got here, I had nobody. I mean, there was Annabeth and Thalia, but they're like my sisters. Y/N was the one that showed me what love is."
"Is that what you meant earlier? About enjoying what this place has to offer?"
He smiled. "You might be surprised, Percy."
"Are you boys coming or not?" Y/N called back toward them.
"Yes, ma'am!" Luke yelled back, jogging up to where she was. They were almost at the lake by then.
"So, Percy, anyone at camp catch your eye yet?" Y/N asked, her hand wrapped around Luke's arm.
"Babe, he just got here." Luke said.
"So? I knew I liked you the second we met."
Luke blushed, caught off guard by her sincerity. That was one thing he wasn't sure he would ever get over, her ability to express her emotions so unabashedly. It was something he still struggled with from time to time, but for her, he would let down all of his walls.
"I wouldn't say I have a crush on her or anything- she kinda just scares me but she did catch my attention," Percy interrupted Luke's thoughts.
"What's her name?" Y/N asked.
"Annabeth, I think."
Y/N nodded knowingly, looking over at Luke. "Well, I guess we'll just see if anything special blooms there. Anyway, we're here!"
The sun was beginning to set over the horizon now, painting the sky in beautiful hues of purple and pink. A gentle breeze accompanied the three as they sat down by the water.
Y/N leaned against Luke's body, savoring the warmth he offered. He absent-mindedly twirled a piece of her hair.
"Three years ago, I was sitting right here, when I saw someone a few feet away from me. He was throwing rocks into the lake and disturbing my peace," Y/N began. "When I looked over to see who it was-"
"You saw the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on," Luke cut in.
"Hey!" Y/N playfulled smacked his shoulder. "I know you've heard this story one hundred times but Percy hasn't yet."
"Yeah, I haven't yet!" Percy backed her up.
The two older campers laughed. "Thank you, Percy. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I saw this boy with curly dark hair and soft brown eyes, and I thought that's him. He's the one. This was before I was claimed by Aphrodite, but I just had a feeling, you know?"
Percy nodded, even though he wasn't sure he had experienced that feeling yet.
"But anyway, this boy looked kind of sad, so I decided to sit next to him."
"I think that's why he was throwing rocks into the water," Percy broke in.
Y/N giggled and Luke nudged her shoulder to continue.
"You're right, Percy, I had the same thought. When I sat next to him, I sensed that he was annoyed."
"Okay, love, let me finish from here." Luke softly kissed her shoulder and she buried her head in the crook of his neck.
"I wasn't annoyed-" he clarified. "At least, not at you. I had just been claimed by my father, but I was still frustrated with the whole idea of gods having children and just ignoring them. Then, this angel sat next to me and for the first time, I felt seen."
Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, her face full of nothing but admiration. No matter how many times she heard this part of the story, she still couldn't believe how she got quite so lucky.
"Percy, our parents may never redeem themselves for their wrongdoings, but I thank the gods every day they sent me Y/N." With that, Luke gently placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her.
"Hello! As lovely as this story is, still a minor here!" Percy waved his hand in front of their faces enthusiastically, causing all three of them to burst into laughter.
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eilinelsghost · 11 days
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(Medium) Hot Take: "Did the Oath actually condemn Fëanor & his sons to the Everlasting Darkness" is the wrong question because it has a clear textual answer: which is "no."
Did it have the power to do so? That's another question entirely and a fun one to debate.
But did it? Absolutely not.
Because each of the sons of Fëanor (and Fëanor himself) fulfilled their Oath. Nowhere in the various drafts of the Oath is there a version where they call down the Everlasting Darkness if they fail to retrieve a Silmaril. What they actually swear is:
an oath of enmity for ever against any that should hold the Silmarils The Book of Lost Tales, Part One
shall no law nor love nor league of Gods, no might nor mercy, not moveless fate, defend him for ever from the fierce vengeance of the sons of Fëanor, whoso seize or steal or finding keep the fair enchanted globes of crystal whose glory dies not, the Silmarils. The Lays of Beleriand, The Flight of the Noldoli
no law, nor love, nor league of hell, no might of Gods, no binding spell, shall him defend from hatred fell of Fëanor's sons, whoso take or steal or finding keep a Silmaril. The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of Leithian: Canto IV
neither law, nor love, nor league of swords, dread nor danger, not Doom itself, shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor's kin, whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh, finding keepeth or afar casteth a Silmaril. This swear we all: death we will deal him ere Day's ending, woe unto world's end! Our word hear thou, Eru Allfather! To the everlasting Darkness doom us if our deed faileth. Morgoth's Ring; Fifth section of the Annals of Aman
they swore an oath [...] calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; [...] vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession. The Silmarillion; Of the Flight of the Noldor
Every version of the Oath that includes the Everlasting Darkness calls it down upon them only if they do not pursue the perceived thief with vengeance and hatred. The only variance from this is in the version from the Annals of Aman where one could conceivably link the Everlasting Darkness with a failure to kill whosoever took a Silmaril. But this version is replaced by the consistent form shown in all other iterations (the same form that is included in the published Silmarillion) and consequently doesn't hold much weight for the argument.
Fëanor and each of his sons (save Maglor who survives the First Age with a Silmaril in his possession) met their ends in pursuit of this exact clause - pursuing those who hold a Silmaril with vengeance and hatred - and consequently dying in fulfilment of their Oath. Which is to say that even if we do hold that the Oath had the power to damn them to the Everlasting Darkness (which it very well may have!), it would not, could not, and did not do so because the terms were met.
And even setting the specific wording of the Oath, the text tells us exactly what happens to one who dies in pursuit of the Oath while still not regaining a single Silmaril: "...[Fëanor's] likeness has never again appeared in Arda, neither has his spirit left the halls of Mandos" (The Silmarillion, Of the Return of the Noldor).
So yes, the Oath might have had the power to send them into the Everlasting Darkness, but it did not have the grounds to do so. And so it did not.
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umemiyan · 4 months
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𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨𝖨
𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘜𝘚 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ・ 𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ・ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ・ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛
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𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (nsfw future chapters likely) / an interpretation of "came back wrong" gojo (he's not necessarily wrong, just different) / yandere!gojo vibes / disabled-coded gojo with reader acting as caretaker; it's essentially a learning curve for everybody involved / some dubcon physical affection moments, but nothing serious / 3.4k words
well... we have made it to a second chapter!! this overall idea just really resonated with me, and after learning how it affected others as well, i just knew i had to do my best to keep it going. this is the first ever "part 2" of anything i've ever written, so i beg for just a shred of mercy! i'm trying my best, and thank you to everyone who has said kind things about this story so far. i hope you enjoy <3
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The winter air is brisk and a little volatile, but you feel blessed to have it whirl past your skin—even more blessed to watch Satoru’s flesh prickle at the sensation. Alive.
You had done your best to rummage through the expanse of his closet to find a suitable coat for him to wear—one that would cut the chill of an afternoon breeze when it inevitably brushed across his body. January could be unforgiving at times—the harshest of winter moths. You wondered how cold death must’ve felt.
“Satoru, where are your shoes?” You inquired, voice muffled in his closet as you sifted through garments, multitasking in an attempt to compose an outfit for him.
He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on your movements as they often were, mind turning at your question for a moment. He stood then, paced towards the shoe rack that stood outside the closet door, and reached gently for one of your busied hands. Satoru points your fingers towards the collection of shoes.
You paused your movements, eyes curious as they followed his guidance before landing upon their intended target. “Oh, that’s right,” you said with a small shake of your head, bearing a self-defeating smile and feeling rather silly for your oversight. 
It was a challenge to become acquainted with someone else’s home amidst everything else, responsibilities stacking upon responsibilities. However, Satoru continued to prove that he could recall more than you initially thought, that he could act as your guiding light when called upon. A little ironic, you think. A little pathetic, too? No, you are human, after all. Just as he is.
He smiled in return. You swore there was even a hint of a familiar light-hearted, teasing glimmer in his eye, unless you were seeing things.
(You weren’t.)
For once, you are grateful for the rather serene nature of the school’s grounds as you stroll across them side-by-side with him, much like in days from a not-so-distant past. The remaining fallen leaves from the trees dressing the mountains rustle with the wind, colored by the touch of death but still beautiful all the same, just like something else you know.
“We can always go back if it gets too cold,” you say as a reminder to Satoru of his agency, his home on campus easy to circle back to should you take the notion. You fear he might choose to freeze himself into another early grave if that’s what you wished, and you can’t fathom the idea of making him suffer simply because he thinks it pleases you to do so. Your happiness is somehow his, and although this is a new quality you have yet to decipher, there’s still something about it that strikes you as indulgent and rather characteristic of a gluttonous Satoru Gojo.
He doesn’t respond, gaze flitting across his surroundings as he walks, nerve endings and six eyes absorbing a litany of information. A silent Satoru used to be a rare occurrence but is now the default, the air somehow punctured by the lack of his voice riding along it. However, his presence is still stark, his being brimming with energy as if to make up for the words he can no longer speak. 
Unbeknownst to you, he communicates with you not only with his physical body, but with his feelings, too—waves of energy that he projects outward on instinct, hoping you’ll have the means to grasp what he is trying to say even if he isn’t always sure what it is. It has been rather unsynchronized and sloppy thus far, but with each day that passes, your ability to hear him grows.
You can hear him now even with the only sounds being the breeze rushing in your ears and leaves crunching beneath the soles of shoes. There is something somber about him, more than usual, mixed with that same sense of being lost in a world that feels brand new. 
All of it is familiar to Satoru on a physical level—the paths, the buildings, the foliage—but what prickles his mind is attempting to piece together the myriad of strange feelings that arise as he is faced with more and more reminders of a past that he can’t fully recall. 
It’s as though the memories are trying to surface but can’t quite fuse into something tangible, something concrete, like when you feel a word forming just at the tip of your tongue but it never arrives. He can sense them deeply in his body, almost experience a brief image flashing like lightning through his mind before it disappears. Satoru’s frustration is palpable, and he reaches for your hand.
Icy-cold fingers nipped by winter intertwine with yours, tethering him in place as his fractured mind aches with the burden of obscurity. His physical affection is new to you, but you allow it—welcome it, even. As much as the earnest displays contrast with his previous tiptoeing around connection, it is yet another thing you can’t bear to turn down, not after everything that’s happened. 
You hope it isn’t simply guilt of all things compelling you to accommodate him, but wouldn’t it be equally bad to do it for selfish reasons? Could one misconstrue it as taking advantage, of feeding off his need to satisfy some part of you that had always wanted him?
The various implications make your head swim with conflict, so you force yourself to shut them down for the time being. Satoru is only holding your hand, nothing more, at least for the moment. There had of course been instances of his lips pecking against your own, wandering down to your neck, his hand settling on your waist as if to draw you closer… but you’d always managed to divert his attention in one way or another, severing the connection before either of you could become too engrossed in it. He never seemed overly perturbed to shift direction, but you couldn’t help but wonder just how long his patience might last, and if you’d be able to figure out what you even were to him before then.
Needless to say, nothing could have ever prepared you for something like this. What drives you forward more than anything is your contentment with the fact that he’s here walking the earth with you, as whole as he can be after having been stolen from the arms of death. And despite the abundance of challenges, part of you can’t help but feel special for being chosen to face them.
When your feet bring you near the school’s entrance, gates opening way for a path down the mountain, Satoru stops dead in his tracks, alert like an animal that’s suddenly caught a scent. His grip on your hand tightens, heart plummeting into his stomach as something takes hold of him, something he likely couldn’t put into words even if he had the ability to speak.
You turn to check over him with your gaze, concern etched upon your features at the immediate change of pace. “Satoru…?” you call softly, yearning for a chance to be able to peek into his mind. All you can do is feel the chill of his demeanor.
His name drifting upon your voice earns a split second of his attention, but he is, for once, captivated by something else.
Pierced gut. Blocked throat. Summer sun and the sounds of buzzing.
It’s a memory that lives in his body but not his conscious mind, an instinct telling him to heed the surroundings for a threat that once was. He relives it with a rapid heartbeat, knows it bears importance, but he can only recall shreds of information that don’t merge together to form a full picture. He simmers in mounting frustration.
Black hair. Sharp eyes. Boiling blood—the brink of death.
Satoru turns on a dime and faces a figure in the distance, on guard and brimming with a sort of defensiveness you’d never quite seen before, at least not coming from him. Muscles rigid, he squeezes your upper arm as if to warn you, to keep you close, his extraordinary senses absorbing information quicker than you can even pivot to see what it is he’s looking at.
From around the corner of a building emerges Megumi, clad in warm clothes and a mellow disposition. His distinctly unruly hair makes it easy to identify him even from where he appears down the path, hands in his pockets as he strolls towards you upon recognition. 
Satoru’s mind runs through calculations as the young student approaches, attempting to distinguish and fill gaps and create something he can take hold of as a semblance of fact.
Black hair. Sharp eyes. Something… different? 
Megumi’s cursed energy burns in a recognizable way, striking Satoru as peculiar as he instinctively studies it with the six eyes. But it makes sense to him—it’s familiar, even if he struggles to trust it in full. This is someone he hasn’t met since his awakening, but someone his eyes have certainly seen before.
You can sense the fear radiating off Satoru’s being and into yours, the presence of someone other than you agitating his already troubled state. You must act.
“Look, it’s Megumi,” you say softly with an encouraging smile, encasing his hand with your palm and hoping that your pleasant reaction takes the edge off. Satoru is reluctant to avert his gaze, but does so anyway, blue darting in your direction to witness the happiness written in your features. You appear to trust this person, and he trusts you, so despite the pounding in his chest, the sorcerer relaxes his grip.
You guide Satoru to take a few steps forward with you to meet Megumi as he draws nearer, a tired but welcoming smile turning your lips upward to greet him. It’s nice to see the boy alive and well in the aftermath of his own debacle—or at least as well as someone could possibly be. You wish there had been something more you could’ve done to help him recover, but it was known to many that you happened to have your hands full at the moment. Hopefully he will understand.
“Hey,” Megumi utters quietly, eyes scanning over your face and then his teacher’s, trying to briefly assess your individual states.
“Hi, Megumi,” you respond, appraising him yourself. He seems to be all in one piece, which you had been informed of, but had yet to see yourself. It’s nice to have visual confirmation. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he replies quickly, flatly, minimizing himself as usual. His voice is more sincere when inquiring about your wellbeing. “And you?”
You grin, finding a way to sum up your experience without overwhelming him. “Hanging in there,” you muse with a breathy chuckle. There’s no use in worrying him with all the details of Gojo’s current condition and how it has subsequently flipped your world upside down, but Megumi is shrewd, and you’re sure he can come to some sort of conclusion, especially when briefed by the others who have eyes on the situation.
Megumi awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck, skirting around vulnerability and concern as his next question arises. “Gojo-sensei… how are you doing?”
Satoru has been silent all the while, of course, but sorting through every detail while you and his former student exchange pleasantries. Neurons fire, rewiring frazzled connections, giving him a glimpse at how this boy is not the same as the one he bears a resemblance to.
Megumi isn’t sure what sort of response to expect; in fact, he feels silly for expecting one at all, posing a question that he’s fairly certain can’t be answered directly. But how else was he meant to conduct himself in such an interaction, to show that he cares? To speak as if Gojo weren’t even there would feel like even more of an insult.
You’re caught in the middle, watching Satoru’s face and seeing the gears turning in his head. “I think we’re all just… learning how to adjust to things, y’know?” you reply with a rather vacant smile, turning back to Megumi who understands your subtext with ease. Rather than speak for Satoru, you’ve made a blanket statement to provide just the slightest bit of feedback, and Megumi is well aware.
The student nods his head with a short hum of acknowledgment, doing his best to see his mentor in this new light—one he never thought would be possible, not when it came to someone who had always claimed to be so strong. But at least there is a light at all.
The wind tosses leaves around between the three of you, filling the silence with its quiet whispers. You wish there was more to be said. You wish you had a solid grasp of how well Satoru really was doing.
“I think Ieiri said she wanted to see you soon,” Megumi states, acting as a courier, trying to fill the space with words.
You nod. “Yeah, we’ve been in touch. We’re actually meant to meet up with her tomorrow.” 
Shoko, while expectedly rather removed, had been one of your primary contacts and supports thus far, apart from Ijichi who shouldered the burden of several essential tasks you hadn’t been able to complete on your own. You felt guilty for sending him out for groceries and back to your apartment for extra sets of clothes, but how else would you manage to make it by? Leaving Satoru alone or in the care of someone else wasn’t currently an option, and taking him outside the school grounds didn’t sound like an optimal idea either at the present moment. So you had to make do in the meantime, and you were truly grateful for the help, but you couldn’t help but hope that things would eventually fall into place. Maybe Shoko would have answers.
“That’s good,” Megumi replies with a sparkle of hope in his tone, then reluctantly adds, “and, uh… just let me know if I can do anything to help, okay?”
You respond to his gesture with a warm smile. “Thank you, Megumi. That’s very kind.” You don’t have immediate plans for taking the young man up on his offer, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. He deserves to rest and seek peace, not fight any more battles for the sake of others.
A twinge of pink colors the apples of Megumi’s cheeks, and he recedes into the scarf wrapped around his neck, unused to accepting grace from others without feeling inclined to quarrel about it. He is at a loss for words, somewhat eager to make his escape before the vulnerability has the chance to further consume his dignity. You take that as something of a cue.
“Well, we—” you start, preparing to make a closing statement and depart, before being interrupted by a sudden movement to your left—Satoru, breaking free from his fixed state to perform a familiar gesture.
As if finally making a connection, he grins and mimics the Ten Shadows hand configuration for summoning the Divine Dogs, clapping his palms together and examining Megumi’s reaction with ardor. The student is startled out of his mild embarrassment, somewhat baffled by the sudden communication attempt and the implication that his mentor perhaps actually remembers who he is. It’s a pleasant surprise to you both, and a moment or two is required for it to sink in.
Your face lights up with glee, heart warmed by the simple action in a way that’s difficult to express. Megumi appears to be in a similar boat—taken aback, but ultimately stricken with joy.
A modest smile creeps upon Megumi’s lips as he softly mirrors the motion with his own hands, acknowledging Gojo’s revelation. “Yeah…” he says, voice faint but pleased. “Divine Dogs.”
Every brief glimpse into Satoru’s thoughts feels like a blessing, and this is certainly no exception. It’s refreshing to watch him have a moment of sincere connection with someone other than yourself, and it leaves you glowing with hope for the future as you bid Megumi farewell and make your way back home.
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“Head back, Satoru.”
Water splashes into the bathtub as Satoru cranes his neck to peer up at the ceiling as per your request, a cup full of liquid streaming over his hair and carrying shampoo suds along with it.
After returning from your walk, you’d prepared something for dinner and eventually urged Satoru into the tub for a bath before bed—yet another activity that seemed to get a little easier every time you did it.
Figuring out how to get him to bathe had initially been quite the challenge, but you had managed to devise a method that had gotten the job done quite well thus far. He might’ve looked rather awkward sitting cramped in the shallow bath with a pair of swimming trunks on while you rinsed him with an old plastic cup you’d excavated from a cabinet, but it was the most effective way to get him clean and preserve both your dignities while doing it. Though you were the only one who seemed to be concerned with such things.
Satoru blinks when a few soapy droplets backslide into one of his eyes, causing him to squint, scrunch, and rub it with his fingers until the uncomfortable sensation eases. He looks at you, almost as if to say, “Hey! That burns!”
You chuckle and shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “That’s why you’re supposed to close your eyes, goober.”
He wants to submerge in a pout, but your playfulness rids him of the inclination. Satoru instead shifts his focus to the beauty of your frame perched upon the edge of the tub, a beacon of divinity as you cleanse him with care and devotion. He takes the notion to express an inkling of gratitude by leaning forward and placing a kiss against your lips, lukewarm water rippling around him as it gradually cools.
You’re somewhat stiff and unresponsive, the sudden gesture catching you by surprise as it usually does, but you don’t chastise him for it; in fact, it takes a certain level of concentration for you to avoid letting your thoughts linger on his current state: hair slicked back; flesh exposed and glistening with droplets of water; lips warm, wet, and eager for reciprocation…
Your mouth receives his but does not encourage him for more than a split second, pulling back gently from his advance until you can see Satoru shiver as the water chills his body. His eyes are glued to your face, waiting for a reaction as you prepare to make one more pass over his hair with the cup to see that he is fully rinsed, this time using your hand to shield his eyes from any backflow (and from your expression, which is surely indicative of your now rapid heartbeat).
The action is enough to distract him for the moment, but Satoru is still on edge, teeming with infatuation and need. He is unsatisfied with your response—or lack thereof—and is frustrated with his inability to express it, but your hands carefully wiping drops of water from his face act as a temporary soothing agent.
“Alright, let’s get dried off and ready for bed,” you say, standing to fetch his towel from the rack and bring it back to him before reaching down to trigger the tub to drain. “We’re going to talk to Shoko tomorrow.”
Satoru is less concerned with the meaning of your words than he is with how lovely you sound while saying them. He is once again caught in your spell, entranced by the need to be closer but settling for the scraps that you give him—for now.
You aren’t convinced of his comprehension of what you say, but nevertheless, you use the sweetened tone to deflect from the overwhelm of watching him stand and observe your every move as you help to dry his chiseled body. Satoru is tall and looming, scarred in the midriff, but compliant with your ministrations; however, his easygoing nature doesn’t keep your hands from wanting to shake against the towel that repeatedly caresses his physical beauty. You wish you could torch every thought in your mind, switch your brain off to preserve the strength and sanity that remains. 
You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to remain steadfast and maintain this cycle of “temporaries” until something eventually changes. And what if it never does?
You suppose the only thing you can do for now is try your best and wait and see what the future holds. It certainly can’t be any worse than what you’ve already been through, especially now that Satoru is by your side once more. That is something you’ve realized you wouldn’t trade for anything.
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popamolly · 7 months
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៸៸ ﹟GO TO HELL!
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pairing. alastor x ex wife!fem!reader
warnings. 18+ minors dni, short drabble, rough sex, dacryphilia, blood, overstimulation
author’s note. asks/request are open!
MASTERLIST
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ALASTOR had a funny way of being in your life despite everything. You thought you escaped from him on Earth only to end up in the same boiling pot of Hell as him. At first he respected your wishes to be left alone, on Earth you weren’t too thrilled to find out that your husband had been a serial killer, you thought you could turn a blind eye to it but the weight of it became too unbearable. But when you tried to leave him— well, it didn’t particularly end well. You tried your best to avoid him, even in hell but he would always come bother you with that alluring smile of his and charming words and you’d find yourself underneath him yet again. There was no escaping his grasp.
Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head as Alastor pounds your greedy cunt with reckless abandon. The smell of sweat and sex filling the air of his room at the Hazbin Hotel. You moan into the pillow, muffling your voice so you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing you and how positively dick whipped you were but you failed at that miserably. With the sounds that fell from your mouth you were sure that the other patrons of the Hotel could hear you and that was embarrassing— as well as a turn on for not only you but your ex husband.
“Oh let’s hear that voice, my dear.” Alastor chuckled darkly, his claw like fingers digging into the soft flesh of your skin so harshly that you were sure it drew blood. The radio demon had you pinned to the bed on all fours, ass up in the air so he could spread your cheeks to watch his cock disappear inside you. With your back arched and face planted into the pillow you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was just so deep, stretching you so wide that you felt as if you would break.
“Alastor—! mm..i-it’s too much!” You moaned, your words coming out in nothing but broken phrases as Alastor reduces you to nothing but a drooling mess. Tears stained your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure and you couldn’t help but beg him to have some type of mercy on you. You weren’t even sure if you had it in you to give him another orgasm because your whole body felt as if it would go numb, “Please! N-No more..ah!”
Alastor’s breath was against your ear, making you shudder just as that familiar feeling in your stomach began to tighten, itching to snap at any moment, “Take it. Give me one more orgasm out of that pretty cunt.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck..!” You grip onto the bedsheets as that wave of pleasure crashes over you again, leaving Alastor nearly growling at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his length, ready to milk him for everything he was worth. Despite your sensitivity, Alastor continues to thrusts inside you, grinning widely as the curses that fell from your mouth toward him, “Fuck you, Alas— ah! I hate you sooo much! Go to Hell!”
“Isn’t that funny? We are already in Hell my love and yet…,” Alastor slows his hips to give you a moment to relax, trailing burning kisses along your spine with that sinister laugh you still somehow loved, “…not even death could part us.”
You whimpered, thinking that Alastor was finally done using your body like his own personal fuck toy but your ex husband had other plans. Of course you didn’t want him to stop but you had too much pride in yourself to actually admit that to him, “A-are you done?”
“On the contrary,” Alastor grips your chin and forces you into a heated kiss that was sloppy but ignited that burning flame inside you once again, “I think you can give me one more, can’t you my little doe?”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.
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waywardcrow · 8 months
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All eyes on us.
Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.
TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.
Part of the Yours to lose series.
Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.
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Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.
The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.
Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.
How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?
A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.
“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.
“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”
“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”
She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.
“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”
Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.
“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?
Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.
“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.
Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.
“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.
“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.
Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.
“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.
“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.
Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.
True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.
“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.
The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.
Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.
“I love you, topolina”
“Love you too, Tony”
The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.
She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-
Bells stopped herself.
It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.
Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.
The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.
“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.
With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.
A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.
She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.
I'd do bad things with you >>>
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Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:
-topolina: Little mouse.
-signorina: Miss.
If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?
Love, Lily.
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ghost-bxrd · 1 month
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Been mulling over Titans Tower and it's really interesting to me how it's treated in Fanon as compared to how the events transpired in canon. it's a really fun topic! Honestly, the original writing in canon is DOGSHITE but not for the usual reasons people cite.
Here's what does make sense in canon but is largely ignored (this is using canon characterisations at the time): First, it's all about the whole Titans team, not just Tim. They really downplay his death a lot, did not put up his statue or honour him whatsoever. Plus the hero community tends to victim-blame him a fuckton. Jason is showing that his death could've happened to anyone. Second, Tim and Jason are just two yearish apart—Jay died at 15, Tim becomes Robin at 13—so those Titans are more like his colleagues than anything else; he's not some older guy beating the shit outta them. Third, Tim’s indifference to Jason's comments and his cockiness about being a better Robin are pretty on-brand for his early portrayal as Robin. (I think fanon Tim derives a lot of his characteristics from his Red Robin run, which is valid as well! But here in particular we have Robin Tim... who... was... uh... a bit of an asshole when he was written back then and the HUBRIS on that man? Immaculate.)
What still makes this absolutely dog shit is the dialogue and how Jason is pouring his heart out to someone who he doesn't really care about. Jason... just doesn't operate this way... Why's he trauma dumping on... tim... ???? It makes no sense whatsoever because Jason really is someone who'd keep those vulnerabilities to himself. Why would he open up to... CANON TIM??? He makes scathing remarks when faced with Bruce and Dick because he knows the knife twists then and at he cares about their reaction. But not tim ????? Canon UTRH doesn't even mention Tim ????? ???? So in the end it's still shit imo.
I also find the use of Pit Madness in fanon super interesting, despite it not being canon. It's used to propel the Titan's Tower incident, which fascinates me because it shows how people are willing to work around its flaws to maintain consistent characterization in their works (which is !!! cool !!)
It's so interesting how many other incidents that do occur in canon aren't as well known as this one aren't given much thought. But this one is and it's interesting how people try to work with it regardless of it's flaws originally!
I'd really love to hear your opinions about it and how flexible you are with the Titans tower incident! :) How do you work with your Jason and your Tim? because it's cool to hear your analysis etc etc
Hooo boi okay i was planning on replying to this earlier but this deserves a proper, thought out response (which I’m shite at but I’m trying here. Words are hard.)
For one, I wholeheartedly agree with the whole trauma dumping thing.
Obviously we all have different tastes in media and I know there are quite a few people who enjoyed the confrontation with Tim, which is totally fine, but personally… yeah, not my thing.
I got into the Batman/batfam fandom via fanfic, so my first introduction was some version of Titans Tower I believe. I was super intrigued by the characters and the tidbits of lore sprinkled throughout that I immediately began reading up on them and digging through the internet for more info and background story on them. Which then quickly evolved into the part where my adoration for Jason’s character began and a short phase where I absolutely despised early canon Tim.
Like— all the victim blaming. He seriously couldn’t mention Jason without adding something derogatory about getting himself killed, which sat so, so wrong with me. Not to mention the Titans just accepting a new Robin right off the bat and joining in blaming Jason for his own death. I’m pretty sure that was the point where I swore off comics for a long while and decided to live off fanon 🤣
And then Jason’s part in the Titans Tower incident. I think part of how weird the canon event was is due in part to how the writers fumbled to depict trauma? Or maybe they just outright hated him because I know a lot of people back then despised Jason and his run as Robin.
Whatever the reason, I think I genuinely cringed when he revealed the Walmart Robin costume he was wearing. And then the trauma dumping.
Jason is smart enough to know Tim wouldn’t care about his grievances. I mean- dude just broke into his hideout to attack him, I think Tim’s about as done with Jason as with any other criminals, regardless of his past. And all that is proven by Tim fighting back tooth and nail without pause. He doesn’t even react to the accusation of the missing statue in Jason’s honor. Like, he genuinely doesn’t seem to care. And why would he? They don’t know each other.
And yeah maybe he was trying to beat some sense into Tim (which is still wrong but— vigilantes I guess? Idk) and make him quit Robin, but Jason’s also smart enough to know that Robins don’t quit easily. And then, as soon as Tim is down for the count and can’t keep fighting, Jason leaves. Just like that. No actual murder attempt, no kicking-while-he’s-down (at least as far as I remember).
It makes no sense. What would Jason be gaining from that encounter? Why would he blame the kid that replaced him and not the guy that did the replacing? Hell, it would make more sense for him to go after the Titans than Tim. Not the mention him casually doubting Tim’s talents when he must have done some background checks on him.
It’s why I like the idea of Pit Madness I guess, and that Jason actually went to the tower with the intent to kill. Because that way the entire thing wouldn’t seem so… pointless.
As for how flexible I am with the Titans Tower storyline, it really depends on the route people choose to explore. But I’m a huge sucker for the “Jason was Tim’s Robin” trope where there’s at least a mild amount of hero worship going on. 👁️ Oh, and happy endings. I can’t deal with tragedies.
But yeah these are my thoughts on it. Obviously no hate to whoever enjoyed the comic mentioned above 💚 we’ve all got different things we resonate with after all~
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blueteller · 3 months
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The Stages of Choi Han
So I decided to think over and analyze the progress of the relationship between Cale and Choi Han.
While we do occasionally get some Choi Han's POV, most of the story is still from either Cale's or general point of view, so we don't see his exact step-by-step thought process on what his views were regarding Cale.
So, here's my thoughts on what was going on inside Choi Han's head as the story went:
Stage 1: Confusion
Choi Han must have been pretty confused when he first met Cale. Still in major turmoil after the Harris Village massacre, here comes this drunk rich guy along, who offers him food and shelter for the night. Why? Random act of kindness? Something else? And things remain confusing the next day as well. Choi Han gets to wash up and rest a bit after his traumatic experience, giving him better clarity of thought, but definitely no better understanding of Cale, who apparently doesn't even want Choi Han to pay him back. Not to mention this creepy strong assassin butler he has and his son the chef... I picture Choi Han having three big bold question marks in his head at this point.
Stage 2: Respect
Things change after the interview. While Cale and the people surrounding him are confusing, the way he speaks to Choi Han make two things clear: one, Cale is a smart man. Two, Cale has a lot going on, but it doesn't seem to be anything sinister. The general vibe Cale is giving off at this moment is "possibly sketchy, yet mysterious and wise". He strikes right into the core of Choi Han's insecurity and helps him gather his resolve: he wants to avenge Harris Village, but he also wishes to protect. At this point, Choi Han switches from confusion to intrigue.
Stage 3: Loyalty
Cale has no idea when it happens, but it is clear: after they rescue Raon, Choi Han is definitely having thoughts about staying with Cale for good. Not only did Cale prove to him that he was a good person by helping a young creature escape a terrible fate for seemingly no reason... Cale also showcased just how thoughtful and competent he is. He is not only smart and knowledgeable, he is also a skilled leader. Even if Choi Han still has any left-over doubts, his question of "what will you do if the Dragon decides to follow you, Cale-nim?" makes it apparent; he's 100% talking about himself. At this point, he'd definitely be willing to follow Cale on a permanent basis as his knight.
Stage 4: Trust
So Choi Han already respects Cale, and has begun cultivating loyalty towards him during the trip to the capital. After they part ways, Choi Han follows Cale's instructions about finding Rosalyn and Lock. During this time unexpected issues arise, but Cale's information remained consistently useful and accurate. Choi Han also meets the "Secret Organization" again, confirming that following path set by Cale allowed him to find out more about Arm than he could manage by himself. He quickly grows attached to Rosalyn and Lock, faster than in "The Birth of a Hero", because through Cale's endorsement he isn't nearly as distrusting. And when Lock seems sick, Choi Han's first instinct is to go straight to Cale for help. And that trust gets rewarded. Then it becomes reinforced once again by the Vow of Death. Cale got upgraded from "sketchy but wise" to "definitely a good person with a lot of secrets".
Stage 5: Protectiveness
Choi Han was definitely protective before, but it got cranked up to 11 after the Plaza Terror Incident. Cale reinforces all previous impressions of respect, loyalty and trust through handling the attack almost flawlessly - except at the very end, Cale gets hurt for the very first time. Choi Han is furious. He threatens the guards to let him pass, showing how his number one priority is officially, Cale himself. His quest to avenge Harris Village still matters, of course, but Cale already swore an oath that he would help Choi Han with it (at least that's what Choi Han believes), so that's a non-issue. From now on, Choi Han's first, second and third priority is keeping Cale safe.
Stage 6: Familiarity
After the plaza, Choi Han heads off with Rosalyn and Lock to the Breck Kingdom. But while the bonds of friendship grow stronger between them, Choi Han still has every intention of returning straight to Cale after they're done. Cale isn't just a priority; he's home, the place Choi Han feels safest at. The way Cale treats him when the trio comes back proves to Choi Han that the feeling was not unfounded; in his absence, Cale helped rebuild Harris and made it home for Lock's siblings. As the next few months of "general relaxation" pass, Choi Han only settles more in his conviction. Everything he has now is thanks to Cale, who is a good person, trustworthy leader, and a good friend overall. Choi Han's feelings are no longer distant respect of an employee, and now he sees Cale as his new family.
Stage 7: Conviction
This stage is a little tricky. While Choi Han's feeling don't quite change through the next 2 years, they definitely grow in strength and intensity. Multiple instances of Cale getting hurt, as well as Choi Han witnessing the true extent of his recklessness, make him devote himself entirely to Cale and his cause. While fighting Clopeh, Choi Han expresses his determination to "create path for the real legend". Because Cale isn't just family: Cale is special. He is someone worthy of highest admiration in Choi Han's eyes. It's not fanatical obsession, not like Clopeh's later on, but something deep and profound that grows stronger with every single battle. The ultimate proof of it is Choi Han changing his attribute while Cale watches from the sidelines. Choi Han's goal itself now, is Cale's success. That is his conviction.
Stage 8: Understanding
Choi Han finally finds out the truth about Cale's transmigration thanks to the memories from Choi Jung Soo, sent by the God of Death. And while none of it fundamentally changes what Choi Han believes about Cale... it does give him a bit of a broader perspective on who Cale really is. Before, there was a lot of mystery regarding the extent of his knowledge, but Choi Han was fine with being kept in the dark. Now, enlightened about some of the mysteries surrounding Cale... Choi Han's conviction to help Cale succeed becomes stronger. Cale isn't just a person he chose to follow; they're actually countrymen, connected by his nephew. It deepens the bond they have, and from then on, Choi Han feels less like a follower of Cale, and more of a peer. They're truly friends, going on this journey side by side.
So there you go. The 8 stages of Choi Han's friendship with Cale.
Confusion
Respect
Loyalty
Trust
Protectiveness
Familiarity
Conviction
Understanding
I really love how their relationship plays out. Cale has many great relationships in the series, but there's something truly special about these two. No matter their differences or misunderstandings, they can relate to each other like no one else can. The mutual care and respect they have for one another is heartwarming. After all they lost, now they have someone who they can trust with their back. A real ride-or-die type of deal.
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moonlightdancer26 · 4 months
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Hello, why do people who say Snape outed Remus out of spite still exist? I thought we all knew that it was because Remus quite literally endangered the lives of all the students, of Harry (who Snape literally swore to protect), of the staff, and of Severus himself.
If he truly wanted to out Remus out of spite, why couldn’t he have done it when he was a Death Eater and Remus was an Order Member, when Dumbledore no longer had any control over Snape’s actions and when he and Remus were on opposite sides of the war? Why couldn’t he have done it at any point throughout the year in PoA? Why did he only expose Remus after he found out that Remus endangered students’ lives by not only forgetting the complicated potion Snape took the time to brew for him, but by also purposefully holding back info that could’ve prevented Sirius Black (who everyone, including Remus, believed was a mass-murderer) from entering the castle and hurting/killing students? Do you believe that’s merely some coincidence?
Say whatever you want about Snape, but one thing about him is that he will NOT stand for anyone endangering the lives of his students, especially not Lily’s son. He prioritises safety above all else. He may be an asshole to his students, but he’ll protect them with his life. The fact that he only outed Remus once he knew what Remus did should tell you enough, I don’t know why people choose to live in denial over this debate even though it’s practically spelled out to us in the text. It makes sense for a kid reading PoA to think “wow! Snape is so mean for that! How could he do that to Professor Lupin?!!” but for grown adults to still think this? It’s ridiculous.
And to the people who think “Oh yeah Snape totally outed Remus because he lost the chance of receiving an Order of Merlin,” did this part of The Prince’s Tale chapter completely fly over your heads:
There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, “Very well. Very well. But never — never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear . . . especially Potter’s son . . . I want your word!”
“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist . . .”
This simply goes to show how little Snape antis actually understand Snape’s character. He wanted no one to know of the good things he’s done. He never did anything for positive attention or praise, and he certainly would not expose Remus out of pure spite of having lost his opportunity to win a stupid award.
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morganski-19 · 3 months
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 18
part 1, prev part
The seat vinyl creaks when Steve sits down next to him. Having come back after dropping Dustin off. Wayne wasn’t expecting him to but here he was. Sitting and playing with the hem of his sweater.
“The kid home?”
Steve nods. Eyes glassy. “How long has Eddie been doing that? Cursing at you.”
Wayne shifts in his seat. “Twice. That I’ve been here at least. Had to take a break after the first time, heard he swore up and down at the nurses. They had to restrain him, so he didn’t pull the IV out.”
Or worse. Eddie’s not a violent person. But in this state, there’s really no telling what he’ll do. He’s still remembering how to be himself again.
Wayne thought that he’d be angrier at them restraining him. He wasn’t though. They had to put their safety first, and he understood that. It was his own hands that have restrained him twice now. Knowing the unusual strength that he has while fighting. All his energy rushing to do so, exhausting him.
Leaving him just like he is now. Sleeping.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to see that,” Steve says softly. “I know it can’t be easy. I barely knew him and I’m upset, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”
Wayne doesn’t even know what he’s feeling half the time. He can’t even start to care about how other’s think he’s feeling.
“How did you and him end up together over spring break anyway?” he asks to skirt the conversation. Offering the olive branch he should have extended the first time he realized that Steve knew the real truth.
Steve lets out a long sigh. “It was Dustin really. When the news broke that morning, Dustin and Max came into the shop and convinced us to find Eddie. We did, he told us what happened, and we knew that it was true. Then we went looking to try and find the person who did it.”
“Did you?” The question has depth beyond those two words. Wayne searching the way Steve responds to see if this is the same person that put his boy here. If that person is still a threat to them all.
“Yeah,” he nods. With lingering uncertainty. “If everything went the way we planned, he won’t be coming back.”
It shouldn’t have to have come down to kids. This fight, this hunt, whatever it was, Wayne’s not so sure why it was highschoolers chasing after them. Not the police, or the government. Not like Wayne trusted them in the slightest. It just seemed like a better option than children.
The conversation pauses, both wondering what to say next. Still bridging that gap from acquaintances to friends. If that’s anything close to what they are going to be. Wayne has found friends in unknowing places these last few weeks. People adding him on a roster he never thought he’d be a part of. Supporting him through all of this.
Helping him through the hardest time he’s ever gone through.
“I talked to Dustin, told him to take a break from visiting Eddie for a few days. Told me you said the same.”
“Yeah, I did. The kid pushes himself to do more than he needs to.”
Steve nods, crossing his arms. “I know. I love him to death, but he doesn’t know when to give up. Especially when the people he loves are hurt.”
Another pause.
“I wanted to thank you for being there for him, it’s been helping him a lot.”
There wasn’t a scenario in Wayne’s mind where he would ever not be there for the kid. It was the easiest decision he’s had to make since all of this started.
“It’s no problem. He’s a good kid and I know Eddie cares for him a lot.”
“I do too. He’s like a brother to me and this has been hard for all of us. And, I haven’t been able to be there for him as much as I want to be, with all of the things I’ve gone through since spring break. Your plate hasn’t exactly been empty either. Thank you for taking the time to look out for him. He might not show it, but he’s really grateful that you’re here.”
Wayne can’t help but smile at that.
next part
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vanilleandclove · 3 months
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the meadow in which you lay | 5
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ser erryk cargyll x arryn!reader | chapter five: a knight's sworn virtue
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As you and Erryk flee King's Landing to Dragonstone, it is only for certain that without the eyes and ears of others, your chance for love and pleasure are limited but boundless.
word count: 1.6k | warnings: unprotected sex (are condoms even canon in this universe?), seasickness and nausea, the reader literally hard launches. | a/n: finally, the sexual tension is released! also two-three more parts left... but which writing would you like to see after this?
previous - next
taglist: @wolvestitches @holb32 @callsignwidow @fwaeriys @hummusxx @erysione
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"Where is Princess Rhaenys held?" you asked Erryk as his hand gripped the upper part of your bicep, guiding you throughout the halls of the castle.
"Keep your head down" he spoke sternly, his voice laced with such perturb for your anonymity; if Criston or any of the Hightowers caught the two of you, they'd surely make a demonstration out of you.
Your head hung low as Erryk took sharp turns, being greeting with numerous guards and handmaidens, until you both made it to Rhaenys's room only to be met with a separate knight, "Cole asked me to guard the Princess's door for the next shift; you're excused" Erryk told the knight, only earning a puzzled look.
"Need me to escort the whore in your hands Cargyll?" the knight smugly asked, only gaining a tick that left the mouth of Erryk.
"I will handle it" Erryk scoffed, looking at you as you anchored yourself further into his armored-clad body.
As the knight left you wondered how tone deaf and beyond disgraceful the other knights and Kingsguard were, how their training and vow of chastity must thoroughly impair their judgment and decency for women and how they describe and treat them. You were lucky that Erryk still had the honor to treat you as a woman with feelings, like a human. He treated your honor with such delicacy when he could have simply sworn off restraint and ravaged your body like a man whom held zero respect for love and all the respect for lust. Rhaenyra faced the same fealty when she had Harwin, you pitied the fact that she were not able to love the man of her hearts desires, though she did gain the affections and hand of Daemon; the father of her three firstborns as they grew into spitting images of their father must leave a sorrow taste.
"My apologies Y/n, had I be King or an upper lord, I would have had his tongue" Erryk whispered to you before tampering with the lock on Rhaenys's door. Though failing at first you quickly took a pin from your hair to mimic a key, what would the kind knight do without you. "You never fail to surprise me".
"It was a simple trick my mother once taught me" you told him before twisting the doorknob to open it, being met with the Princess. "Your savior is here my dear Princess" you joked lightly before Erryk went into the door to hand Rhaenys a change of clothes as disguise.
"I can only imagine Alicent attempted get into your head with promises her father and her cannot keep" you told Rhaenys, helping her dress into less proper dressings, "Whatever side you choose to be on will either make or break the relationship you have with your own kin. The support of you and your lord husband is dire, with Corlys being on the brink of health, you act as his ward and voice of reason".
Rhaenys only gave you a fond look, admiring you've now become, "You have always been a spitfire Lady Arryn, just as your father. Though I do not understand the unwavering support to your cousin with all that has occurred".
"I will defend my kin until death" you answered, "Only then the one's against my own will know peace".
"Just as Ser Erryk swore an oath of his own" Rhaenys poked at you, "Let us proceed, I must get to Meleys".
You half agreed, now that the coronation was to take place on the hour, the Dragonpit may not be as secured, "We must direct the Princess to the Dragonpit Erryk, Meleys will be of-".
"They will be expecting her there-".
"They expect Aegon to be crowned in front of the small and higher folk, the Dragonpit is of no concern of theirs. Meleys is needed, my love" you fought back, acquiring a smirk from both Rhaenys and Erryk, "I will follow you, Rhaenys will go off on Meleys after reaching the pit, she will reach my cousin quicker than the two of us".
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As both you and Erryk reached the fleet of ships, he held your hand like a vice as you stepped into the designated ship to Dragonstone, the floors wet from rain and the ocean, preventing you from slipping. You looked up from the floor, still being held by Erryk to see Meleys and Rhaenys flying above you, hearing the screams of the people behind you. Now Rhaenys knows how to make a demonstration, you thought, a small smirk reaching your face before Erryk directed you to the quarters of the ship.
"We should arrive upon sunset tomorrow" Erryk told you upon removing his cloak and armor in order to relax his tensed muscles. You nodded before unraveling the strings of your cloak and corset beneath the draped fabrics, the knight not noticing before looking up at you. Your boots knocked off quickly, trousers removed with haste, the sight of your supple breasts set his mind on a whirlwind.
"You are not sworn to a King" you spoke, "Nor have you verbally made a sworn oath to the Queen". You stared into your lover's soul, wondering if he caught where you were coming from, you hoped he did, or else you'd be rather embarrassed to be completely bare to a man under zero pretenses. Fortunately, he caught on your words, his body making way to your own, his hand finding purchase along your curves.
You gracefully untied the knight's breeches, before yanking them downwards, he removed his own blouse. Standing before each other, naked and bare, staring intently at the man who captured your heart when you were in your youth, now a woman, the loyalty never wavered or bent. You had zero idea who laid the first kiss, but you did not complain as the passion ignited between the two of you like dragon's breath. His hand reached down to the aching pulse between your legs, his fingers lightly toying with your clit, your moans filling his mouth, nipples perked on his own chest, your body attempting to maintain its composure before your knees buckled onto a spring bed.
Your legs immediately wrapped around Erryk's waist, your hands finding themselves to hold his face dearly before kissing him once more, as if it was your last. Your left hand leaving to rake down the knight's chiseled body and the scars that painted it, as you reached his pelvis, you stared directly into his pupils before directing his cock to be in you. Your moans bounced off the walls as his leaky tip entered your sopping cunt, your hand gripping onto him for dear life before he positioned himself to enter you more.
"You may move love" you whimpered, your voice soft yet filled with wild lust that turned into groans of pleasure as Erryk pumped into you, his grunts intertwined with your moans, his hands finding themselves raked into your hair whilst the other was holding your waist secured. You let him milk your pleasure, allowing to be taken and sensually being cared for as the knight littered kisses along your breasts and nape of your neck.
"I love you Y/n" he shuddered, his pace and strokes being painfully slow yet left you ravenous for more, you felt yourself reach the edge of bliss as strings of curses left your mouth, your nails scraping his back. Your moans filling the room once more.
"I love you Erryk" you replied, holding onto him as neared your climax, your cunt fluttering. Your life flashing before your eyes, but all were memories of Erryk. "My moon and stars".
He smiled before feeling your cunt reach its peak, as you gripped on him with vigor, he felt his own climax reaching its peak soon after, his seed coating your walls. You both lay next to each other, chasing your own breaths. Until you spoke, "Had I known how much pleasure is gained from this, I would let go of restraint ages ago"
"Thought you were not so keen on being an oathbreaker my love" Erryk teased, holding you in his arms, close to his chest, "Do not fret, I would have easily as well".
You chuckled before feeling a pit in your stomach, a faint burning ravaging your throat. Immediately you rose to the light bile arising in your throat, quickly you covered yourself with Erryk's cloak before exiting the quarter to release the bile oversea. Your coughs burning your throat further. Erryk left the quarter near after with his breeches messily put on.
"Are you alright?" Erryk asked, massaging circles into your back, holding your hair up and out of your face before kissing the top of your head.
"Seasickness it is all" you told Erryk, "It should go away once we reach Dragonstone".
Your life was held in his hands, as his was to yours, the waves that rocked the ship greatly only led you grip onto Erryk for support. Oh, how you loved him greatly, how he loved you with even more sheer intensity.
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teeful-corner · 11 months
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ How? .ᐟ. . . (THE FUCK ARE YOU ALIVE!?) Lloyd Garmadon x Reader | Gender Neutral Reader
ੈ˳light Dragons Rising (s1) spoilers, reference to previous seasons; Ghosts of the past come to haunt Lloyd in the future, while somehow also quelling a long-term ache in his heart. ੈ˳tags / warning: implied relationship, death (slightly detailed), dealing of lost and angsty Lloyd, Jay and Cole are still not back :(, not proof read! 4.9k words.
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"Hey Lloyd!" Arin called from the library, catching Lloyd's attention sharply as he tried to pass by. The call didn't seem urgent, yet Lloyd wasn't going to do anything of particular urgency either, so he decided to peak inside; he was also wondering why (and how) Arin was in the Library. Not that it had been locked, or anything of the sort, yet because the Library somewhere that Lloyd would have thought Sora would be, not Arin. Hmm, maybe scratch that. Arin would probably be in the Library if it meant he could learn anything about the ninja. Good dedication, he had to admit, albeit it a tad weird. "Yeah Arin?" Lloyd called back when Arin didn't turn his attention over to him, still engrossed in whatever he was looking at. When Lloyd entered the room, walking over to Arin to peer at the book from behind, he would soon notice it was an old photo album. Zane, Pixel, and Nya used to keep it up to date with adventures and general family outings. "Who's that? I don't think I ever remember a ninja wearing purple on your team before." Arin asked, pausing for a minute before he added on quite proudly. "And I know more about you guys than anyone should know!"
The photo that Arin was looking at was a group photo, one in front of the Monastery before one of the countless times it got burnt down. Sometimes Lloyd couldn't help but wonder why they didn't rebuild the Monastery out of something that was inflammable; though he guessed Master Wu always enjoyed coming back to a Monastery that hadn't changed. And Lloyd had to admit, it was also a nice change of pace of the constant changing world outside. It felt like a part of the chaotic world was standing still; even if that feeling was usually a brief one. Yet, in the photo, Arin would point at a Ninja who was piggy-backing off of Lloyd back. Well, maybe not piggy-backing. It was more of, at the time of the photo, they had jumped onto Lloyd's back and he was in the process of falling down. Meanwhile, Kai had burst out laughing and Nya was elbowing him, rather harshly, with a snicker. Though her efforts were rather targeted as seeing the rest of the team was already bursting out in bubbly laughter. Lloyd swore he could hear all their laughter echo in his pointed ears, like the day had just happened. But he knew he was wrong. His eyes became saddened as much as he tried to smile; if not to soothe Arin, then to soothe himself. "Ah, well, that's the Master of Crystals." Lloyd began to explain to Arin, who craned his neck back to look up at Lloyd. "...um, shoot. What can I say about them?" Lloyd tried not to laugh at his own short comings, a habit that he was constantly teased for yet he couldn't help. "The Master of Crystals?" Arin mumbled in echo to Lloyd's statement. His eyes filtered back down to the frozen photo, taking in how blurry everyone looked from moving. He couldn't help but crack a smile. "You two seem close!" "We were!... we really were." Lloyd's voice drew off a bit, his eyes glancing to the side as he still tried to wrack his mind on what to say. He knew if he said too much he would start crying, yet he also knew that Arin would want to know as much as possible. Yet how could he sum up them in words? That task, Lloyd thought, was impossible. "I wish you could have met them," Lloyd would find himself mumbling. "They were amazing, well as great as a person can be." Lloyd started as Arin turned to face him again, photobook still supported in his hands. "They were rather talented, some of their paintings are actually hung around the Monastery - well those that didn't burn in the fires. They were. . . wonderful, incredibly funny at all the wrong times. Fearless, in their own way, and yet reckless at the same time. Master Wu always scolded them for jumping head first into situations instead of using their head. "They were rather passionate as well, yet somehow managed to be a total introvert; they would not speak to the press, nor anyone they were uncomfortable with. Always gave one of the Ninja this stare that screamed 'help me'. Social awkwardness, that's the word for it." Lloyd couldn't help but smile as memories began to surface themselves after being dormant for years. Arin kept his eyes on Lloyd as he spoke, only occasionally glancing down at the picture to look of the Ninja that Lloyd spoke of. Arin couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't heard of them before. "They were also kind... maybe too kind." Lloyd paused in his speech, he had been rambling for a while before his words fell short. So much so Arin had noticed that Kai stopped to listen from the doorway; he seemed curious on the conversation, yet soon realized who Lloyd was talking about and grew the same solemn look. "What happened to them?" Arin was compelled to ask when he noticed all the past-tense that Lloyd was using when describing the Purple Ninja; furthermore the solemn look that the two grew when speaking about them. Yet, Arin wasn't sure if those looks were because the Ninja got lost during the merge. . . or if something before the merge happened.
The silence was more deafening than a rock-n-roll concert. Arin's brain was flooded with reasons for the sudden silence, ranging from the simplest answer (they were lost in the Merge) and the most complex scenario his brain could possibly think of. He would gingerly close the photo album and try and place it back into the shelf, "We don't have to talk about it if you guys don't want to!" He was quick to rush out. He didn't want to cause any sort of discomfort, and the silence suggested he had; that or he had just resurfaced some horrible memories that were being shoved away. Arin didn't hear when Kai had came over to the two, jumping when he felt the sudden warm hand on his shoulder, and gingerly glancing back over to Kai. He seemed in a much better shape about the question than Lloyd was. Arin knew Kai was trying to offer some sort of smile to soften the anxiousness that coursed through Arin - yet his smile wasn't very convincing. "They gave their life to try and protect us, kid." Kai explained, ruffling Arin's hair in another attempt to soften the mood. Yet, somehow Arin felt worse in hearing the news, turning to look over at Lloyd with apologetic eyes. Lloyd wasn't facing them.
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Sora was quick to pick up on the more solemn mood that Lloyd seemed to be slumped in, not being as attentive during training or flat out spacing out - which tended to cause multiple accidents. Sora knew she wasn't the only one who caught on either. During her training with Nya, the Water Ninja continued glancing back at Lloyd with frowned eyebrows and eyes swimming in worry. Nevertheless, they both saw how careful Arin was around Lloyd, and Sora half wondered if some sort of stress caused Lloyd to crack and snap; she's heard from a few sources that he could have a temper on him. Yet, Nya pointed out how Kai acted around Lloyd and claimed that something happened that wasn't Lloyd snapping at Arin. Something much bigger. "How can something bigger than Lloyd snapping at Arin make Lloyd so. . ." Sora fished for the right word. Distant didn't feel right. ". . .I don't know! Not-Lloyd and Arin so cautious?" Nya glanced over at Sora, lips pierced in a frown, before her eyes returned over to Lloyd, "I don't know, but something did happen. Not Lloyd snapping happen, yet something. I've only seen Lloyd this despondent since-" And Nya stopped, causing Sora's interest to peak. She waiting for Nya to continue, dutifully noticing the rise of suspicion mixed with realization that swirled in Nya's eyes. When Nya did not continue, though, Sora asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Since some big even that caused Lloyd to lose someone close to him, and he somehow still blames himself over all these years?" It was a rhetorical question, laced with some humorous sarcasm, as Sora went back to her work. She was fixing up her mech, trying to add some enhancements on it so it would run smoother. All the while she was also trying to channel her elemental power without Riyu's help. This allowed Riyu to be able to lay in the sun nearby while intensively watching Sora's work, ready to bounce onto his feet if Sora needed his help. Sora noticed the silence from Nya, yet ignored it at first as she tightened a screw. Yet, after the third, the silence got a tad awkward. Sora glanced back at Nya, who was staring at her with a baffled look; almost as though she had seen a ghost. "What. . .?" Sora glanced behind her, seeing if she had missed something. Yet, she only saw her mech and came to the conclusion that she didn't. "How did you?" Nya's posture straightened as Sora glanced back at her. Now Sora was positively confused, "How did I what?" And Nya would roll her wrists, acting like that had carried the answer to Sora's question. It didn't and Sora was left just puzzled. Yet Nya seemed to get the hint that, maybe, Sora didn't know what she was talking about and happened to just take a rather accurate jab in the dark with her rhetorical question. As for Nya shook her head, clearing the baffled look on her face, before actually waving off Sora's puzzled look this time. "Nothing, nothing. I just thought-" And again, Nya wouldn't finish her sentence as her eyes drifted back to Lloyd. Sora would notice as she rubbed her neck, her eyebrows frowning more so than before, and a frown tugging deeper on her lips.
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"I LEFT YOU GUYS ALONE FOR ONLY A SECOND!" Kai's shouting filled the court yard as Sora, Arin, Wyldfyre, and Riyu stood away from the gigantic hole in Monastery wall. Kai had gone inside only a a few minutes before a merge portal had appeared right above the Monetary; which both frightened and confused the four, seeing as Lloyd had used the dragon cores a few weeks ago! "It wasn't us!" Arin started, instantly trusting his hands up in the same way a cop would ask you to. Kai gawked at the four before rushing down the Monastery steps as Zane peaked door behind him, confused. Sora was quick to add to Arin's plea for innocence, yet she was cut off by Wyldfyre. "This was not our faults!" Wyldfyre crossed her arms, "Someone just fell out of the sky, crashed, and broke the wall! It was not me this time." Sora resorted just to agreeing with the two at this point. Kai groaned, and Sora wondered if it was out of laziness (for not wanting to deal with another broken Monastery wall) or out of 'I'm going to be killed for leaving you all alone!'. Either way he rushed past the four and over to the wall, but to Riyu's concerned growls, to check out the damage. He drew his sword just encase. "Fell out of the sky? But Lloyd should have stopped the rifts from reopening." Zane said as he walked over to Arin's left, staring at the rubble with confusion before he began to analyze the rubble as Kai began to carefully climb onto of it. "That's what I thought!" Arin shouted, thrusting his hands out at the crashed wall, "but then someone just- FELL FROM THE SKY!" Sora would add, "While being spit out of a rift. Though it disappeared after they got spat out." "Again, none of this was Wyldfyre's fault." Wyldfyre stated again, nodding in agreement to her own statement as though to add value to it. Nya didn't seem too amused as she rushed out with Lloyd to the hole in the wall and the proclamations of rifts and people falling out of them. Kai swore he was getting a headache from listening to Arin, Sora, and Wyldfyre explaining the situation again; not from their voices, yet from the sheer annoyance that these rifts were causing trouble again. Especially when they had all thought that they were taken care of. And just as he thought life was getting back to normal, or as normal as life after the Merge could get, life slaps him in the face. Again! Thanks life, you're really helpful. Yet Kai's sour thoughts towards life didn't stop him from checking the rubble and coming to a quick stop after he noticed a familiar gi lying on top of the white stone. His body froze at an instant, the grip on the Monetary wall tightened, both out of fear and unknowing how to process who laid in front of him. "Lloyd-" Kai called into the flurry of voices that tried to figure out what had happened. Gaining no response from Lloyd at first, Kai tried calling him again despite not being able to tear his eyes away from the person. Finally, "LLOYD!" "What?!" Lloyd shouted back to Kai, turning to face the Fire Master both confused and more aggressive than he intended. Though his stance quickly softened as he noticed Kai's face: pale white. A beat. Lloyd gingerly, yet with as much confidence as he could muster, walked over to Kai and where he stood on the rubble. As he approached behind him, Lloyd called out again: "Kai?" Yet the only response he gained was a shaking hand that Kai pointed towards the rubble. Concerned, and with adrenaline now rushing through his blood like crazy (the held silence from the others not helping his nerves at all) Lloyd climbed upon the rubble to come face to face with a haunting face. In an instant, it felt like Lloyd's world was turned upside down as his eyes flickered over every detail of the familiar body that was no longer mangled or torn, no longer gruesomely defiled in the most repulsive way.
Lloyd could still remember how their limbs hung on like strings, or were disconnected entirely. How their blood stained the concrete road blacker than it had been, how the rotting smell filled the streets before the war had ended and they were safe to burry their friend. The details rushed back to Lloyd quicker than he wanted; more graphic than Lloyd remembered it being. The shock, horror, terror, slight disgust all made him recoil away from the stones wall; it forced him to completely turn his back and cup his mouth in fear of puking. His eyes were wide, his pupils shrunk as he tried to get those horrible, god awful memories out of his mind. The smell he remembered that coated the streets hit him, causing him to hunch over. He knew this was all in his head, old trauma resurfacing to bite him in the ass for never fully recovering from that scene. He could hear the voices, panicked and just as disturbed (mostly from the original Ninja) when they realized who laid in the rubble. Lloyd distantly felt a hand on his back, but his mind swirled and circled as he felt like his gut had been punched. "What's going on? What's happening?" Arin panic sounded so far to Lloyd, and Arin seemed further when Lloyd turned to look at his student. Arin grew fearful as he saw the detailed horror on Lloyd. Nya was trying to calm the situation. Zane was examining the body, trying to make sense of what was happening. He first ran a diagnostic and the only words Lloyd picked up were "Alive", "Breathing", "Vital". They weren't mangled and torn and tattered, they breathed and were whole and alive. That was a wild concept to Lloyd, caused his knees to buckle. His hand slid down roughly on the Monastery wall as he crashed to his knees. He was trying to keep the tears from spilling over, hiccupping escaping his throat as he choked back sobs. "Can someone explain to use what's going on?!" Sora shouted as Lloyd balled his hand into a fist against the Monastery. Sora sounded distressed, Lloyd couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame any of the new students for how they felt at the moment, after all this was slowly turning into a shitshow of emotions. Lloyd could feel Nya trying to snap him out of his engrossing thoughts yet the felt all consuming; It's like Lloyd felt everything all at once and yet, somehow, nothing at the same time. He blanked out at the explanation the students were given. He blanked out for a while. He wasn't sure when someone had managed to move him, yet he now sat in the living room of the Monastery with his fists clenching at his pants and this sickening feeling still in his stomach. How can you possibly explain that the fact that someone who had died, gave their life, to protect something greater than them (yet somehow also meaningless after they gave their life) to students who hadn't heard of them before? Lloyd moved his hand to cup his mouth, trying to control his breathing as his eyes zooned out on the floor. His knee bounced now without the weight of his arm. He could hear Nya next to him trying to explain the seemingly impossible to the three students: "A long. . . long, time ago, during one of our last fights with Lord Garmadon, after Harumi had resurrected him, we were almost cornered." Nya explained, "Well, we had been running from their joint forces for a while, taking refugee in abandoned building of Ninjago, yet this time we had no were to truly run. I suggested we split up, confuse Lord Garmadon and Harumi and Lloyd said we needed to all stick together." Nya would pause, allowing Lloyd to notice how she had rambled a little and how Kai had to place a hand on her shoulder. There was a silent nod that was shared from Kai to Nya, something to reassure her. Nya took a deep breath before she continued, "To make a long story short, the Ninja you saw crashing through the wall was the Purple Ninja, Master of Crystals. . . (y/n). "They had, despite much protest, said they would ward off Garmadon and give us a chance to escape; promised that they would meet us back at the base-"
"Garmadon tore her to pieces." The growl in Lloyd's voice didn't go unmissed as he interrupted Nya. His hand pulled down from his mouth, pulling at his skin a little before he rubbed his neck. "Left her to die rotting on the street, limbs hanging on by threads. . ." His statement was followed by silence, stunned if not horrified silence. Lloyd didn't look up at the three students, who sat or stood nearby. He couldn't bare to catch their eyes, to catch the horror that their mind was crafting after the vague description that Lloyd left hanging in the air. The silence was thick, thicker than Lloyd would have wished. "But... but they seemed.. fine?" Arin choked out, trying to get some sort of positivity back into the room; or at least to get some people to start looking on the bright side. Despite the gruesome topic. "We don't know how." Nya answered, shaking her head. "The best explanation would be that she was fixed when their soul moved on to the Departed Realm? But we haven't seen much trace of that realm in the merged... nor have we seen many traces of other realms for souls, like the Cursed Realm." "Yes, and it is rather odd that she would appear now." Zane walked into the room, cleaning his hands with a cleaning cloth. Attention snapped to him in a unsettling way (from his standards) yet he guessed it was just worry for the Ninja he had just been taking care of. "Especially after Lloyd stopped the MergeQuake. We can only hope that means that the Realms are settling into their new place, and returning people to where they're meant to be. Yet, that would not explain how (y/n) managed to resurrect." Zane noticed how Lloyd didn't look in his direction when he spoke, yet he couldn't blame Lloyd, not after all they've been through. Not after all he's been through; Especially since he was the closest to (y/n). "Well, the only thing we can do now is just wait for them to wake up, yeah?" Sora pipped up after a moment and she would receive a nod from Zane. She made sure to think on her next words, as well as her tone, before she crossed her arms, "So then let's go do something! I'm sure your friend wouldn't want to wake up after being dead for so long to see you all depressed!" "OH!" Arin pipped up instantly. "I have just the thing!"
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The smell of some sort of bread was the first thing that came to mind, the second would be the warmth of a weighted cover that was tossed up to my shoulders, and the third would be the softness of the pillow at my head and the mattress under me. The warm and softness coaxed me back to sleep, yet my mind made it feel as though I had been asleep for decades. Decades. A soft murmur escaped my mouth as I rolled onto my side, my brain slowly registering the sounds that echoed from where I laid. The sound of birds nearby, the clattering of pans, the sound of laughter and chatter and talking; Feet on wood floors and sliding doors. The smell of different ingredients mixing with the smell of baking bread or maybe pie. It was like the sweetest dream. I grabbed at my covers and turned again on the mattress below me. It was so tempting to go back to sleep, to let the soft, warm sounds bring me to a dream where I was with everyone again. That was until I had fully registered what was happening. With a quick motion I shoved the blanket off of me, sitting up, and looking around feverously. I stared at the room in front of me, all too familiar and all too haunting. My hands had a mind of their own at they first touched the sheets under me, then my cheeks and face, and slowly my whole body as I began to register something: I was. . . alive? How was this possible? Hadn't I died, oh I don't remember, a few years ago? This shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't-. Thoughts circled around my mind like a storm that could not be tamed, panicked and frightened, terrified and horrific. I tried to remember what I could not, at the time, and my only last thoughts were those of the moments before I had died. The feeling of my bones, ligaments, tendons, muscles all pulling apart are screams ripped out of my throat in a piercing way that still haunting me. The tears that streamed down my cheeks, the pain; oh the unbearable pain, all suffered to make sure that everyone else could hopefully see another day. So Lloyd could see another day. I raised my hand, feeling my damp cheeks. I didn't even realize I had been crying, and I frowned my eyebrows as I couldn't understand whether it was because the memories or the confusion. And I couldn't help but sit on the bed, my bed, as I reeled in all that was happening. I was alive, I was back. Yet was everyone else here? What had happened after I died? Did the resistance work? Is Ninjago City back to how it had been? Is- The thoughts brought me onto my feet and tugged at my gi, taking in a shaky breath as I felt it. My feet guided themselves, my mind in a foggy trance, to the door and out the room, down the hallway of the Monetary while following the sounds of voices and laughter. I was led to the kitchen, were I would stand at the door and look in at the scene: Lloyd, Nya, Zane, Kai, and four people I didn't know; three kids, one frog guy. They all were making Pies, from what I could tell, and they were laughing and smiling and joking. Kai had flicked flour at Nya, who sneezed and glared playfully at Kai. Zane was putting pies into the stove, helping as the kid with pink hair read a book out loud. Lloyd with a kid in orange stood at a counter nearby, seemingly racing to make the pie that the pink-haired kid was shouting. The frog guy stood nearby. I didn't noticed as tears flowed back down my cheeks as I stared at the scene, my mouth slightly agape. Everything seemed so peaceful, so right. I could only guess Jay was in his room changing because there was a massive pile of flour on the floor and on Kai and Lloyd. Cole probably in the bathroom from having eaten too many of the sweets, with all the empty pie tins that laid on the table. Nya was the first to notice me, she was about to throw water at Kai yet paused as her eyes caught a glimpse of me and looked back. I could see the way her eyes widened, realization and relief and overwhelm wash her. All I could give her in response was a small smile, a weak bit of laughter.
There was a brief moment were we just stared at each other, and the next thing I knew Nya had rushed away from her spot and enveloped me in a hug. And I couldn't help but hug her back, feeling tears form in her eyes as I choked on mine. "Oh fuck-" Kai mumbled, and I could only guess he had realized why Nya had not shot him with water and instead rushed towards the door. The room grew quiet, confused then realized, as attention darted over to Nya and I. Lloyd's eyes. Oh, his eyes. Despite the pain that rang through them, they way they scrunched and drew out lines on his face. Despite the way he could only meet my eyes for a few seconds at a time. Despite the way they reddened, looking like he was about to cry. His eyes were still lovely as ever. I tightened my grip on Nya, "What did I miss?" I mumbled softly to the shocked silence. I let out something akin to a airy-chuckle. "Most recently, the ending of MerqeQuakes which occurred when all the realms were merged together into one big realm; before that,-" Zane began to respond yet he stopped himself. He couldn't help but smile, and I swear he was about to cry (if he could). "Actually, that does not matter. What matters now is that you're back... and awake." Nya slowly let go of me, I could feel as she tried to break from my grip and I slowly loosened her. She was smiling, yet she was crying; choking on her own tears. I couldn't help but give Nya one last reassuring squeeze before I slowly moved around her and towards Lloyd. The silence seemed thicker as I reached Lloyd, his hesitance more noticeable as his brows thickened and frowned. A thin frown spread across my lips, I knew what this was about (that much didn't take me being alive for years to know). "Lloyd I-" My voice felt weak as I started, reaching out to Lloyd with my hand yet stopping. I balled it into a fist, seeing Lloyd turn away from me, and slowly dropped my arm back to my side. What words could you say to someone who you betrayed? Nevertheless someone like Lloyd, who's been through so much and the last thing he wanted (I knew) was to see my body on the concrete floor. Blood staining the road. Limps ripped apart by his father. I knew that so much that my last thoughts had been about Lloyd had how he would react when he saw the scene. My mouth twitched as I stood there, next to Lloyd, in silence as my head fell. Sorry was not good enough, it would never be good enough; no apology would be good enough to start trying to make up for the time I had missed. For lying, as I knew that I wouldn't meet them back up. For everything. For leaving him alone and making him bear the world without me for so many years. For not being there for him for whatever he had to go through while I was gone; it had aged him so, I could see the aged pain in his eyes. It would never feel enough. "I'm-" And yet, somehow Lloyd turned to face me. And somehow, he came to embrace me, hugging me tightly as though he were afraid I would die again. And somehow, he managed to be near me after everything I had done. And somehow, I had a feeling, we would slowly get through this. Slowly, I wrapped Lloyd in a hug and gripped onto his gi, just as tightly. I buried my face into his shoulder as he did the same and we just stood there and hugged tightly. And everything felt right, even if it was for a brief moment. Everything felt like it had and how it should here in the Monastery, with Lloyd: It felt like home.
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title: Weakness is For Fools (PT 1)
author: sciencebecameouraddiction
fandom: hazbin hotel
rating: PG
genre: Angst with a happy end
pairing: Alastor x Reader (Use of Y/N)
warnings: Alastor is not with it on this, unhinged, confused and a bit of back story sprinkled in. Rosie is also not having any of Alastor’s shit. Alastor may be OOC
summary: Alastor had never felt this before, and he swore he would never have a weakness.
PART 2 →
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Weakness. Weakness was not something that Alastor entertained for a second. Weakness could be exploited, turned against you, and weaponized for other’s success. And when you’re at the top of the heap staring down at the other power hungry people you smashed on your way to the top, weakness was not something that could be afforded. A luxury that even he could not partake in. Would not partake in.
The idea that he was not allowed to have any weakness was something that made him violently angry, if he was honest. It was a reminder that there were those who could; comfortably, without worry, or threat to themself. Like Lucifer, who everyone in hell knew that Charlie was his one weakness. Could she be touched though? No. A benefit of being the King of Hell, Alastor mused.
This reminded Alastor of the one thing he hated to be reminded of. His powerlessness. For a full century he had made it his mission to ensure that he was powerful, that he could handle anything that came his way and that most were beneath him. It soothed him when he came into hell and took down overlord after overlord. Made him giddy that the power he felt in life over life and death, could be felt even after he died. To a greater degree. The powerless, worthless and weak Alastor, who watched his mother endure abuse, hatred and foul words, was dead and before his corpse stood the reigning victor. Better in every way. He would never let anyone know of the Alastor he buried.
Which is why the sudden emergence of weakness in his core, shook the very foundation he stood on. He didn’t realize it’s existence, until one day you were talking to him and he realized he was actually listening and genuinely smiling at you. His mind went into overdrive, tuning you out and trying to understand when this had happened. When these foreign feelings appeared. He couldn’t trace it back to any point in time, but realized he had felt them for at least the past two months. He quickly got up, even though you were still speaking, mid-sentence even, and left without a word. Your gaze bewildered as he rounded the corner, Charlie calling after him but everyone inevitably leaving him alone.
He paced his radio tower that night, as he could not quiet his mind. Trying to pinpoint what the feeling was, and why it so violently rattled in his chest, now demanding its presence to be known since he acknowledged it. This feeling… the only thing close he could compare was to how he felt about his dear mother, wanting to protect her and care for her, in a way that a man should. At least, for his time. He didn’t even know what he was feeling exactly. Was it love? He shot that idea away quickly. He had never been in love, never wanted anything to do with that. He did know this feeling had to leave though. Days passed and no one had seen or heard from Alastor. Charlie even contacted Rosie hoping he had gone to Cannibal Town, but when Rosie reported back she hadn’t seen Alastor in a while, everyone at the hotel got even more concerned.
Until Alastor casually strode through the front door, humming like he hadn’t been missing for a week.
“Alastor! Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Charlie came over to check on him, giving him a once over, seeing nothing seemingly out of place.
“Oh ho! I’m quite fine my dear! Quite fine! What is this ruckus going on down here though?” Alastor asked as the patrons all looked around confused on how Alastor acted like nothing happened.
“Alastor, you were gone for nearly a week.” Charlie trails off. “You told no where you were. We were worried.”
“Yeah, you literally left in the middle of our conversation.” You explain, a little wounded about the current circumstances. You become absolutely devastated as the next events unfold.
Alastor’s head snaps to you and your eyes widen at him like he’s become a deranged dog. He growls at you and stalks towards you. “What makes you think that any conversation with you could be so riveting that i would willingly engage?”
Tears spring to your eyes as Alastor’s words cut into you like a million different knives. “What?” Your voice sounding small as you heard Angel and Charlie gasp. “You-You can’t mean that.” You say, reaching towards him like you had done a thousand times, only to be greeted with your hand being slapped away as Alastor then wiped it on the front of his jacket. Like he was disgusted with you. Husk growled behind you.
“Can’t mean it? Why I mean everything I say, my dear!” For the first time, him calling you ‘dear’ made your skin crawl.
“Honestly, this is the most eager I’ve ever been to be tell the truth.” Alastor sneered at you. He then quickly started towards you backing you into the bar. “You think I like you? Want you to follow me around like a lost pet?” Alastor laughs. “You’re mistaken. I’ve tolerated your presence and I’m through with tolerating you.”
You can barely see through the tears pouring down your cheeks as Husk comes around the bar and draws you into him, turning you away so you weren’t looking at Alastor.
“What the fuck, Alastor?” Vaggie asks, stepping toward the bar, looking at Alastor like a cornered animal lashing out.
“Yeah, well you don’t deserve to even speak to her Alastor.” Angel says coming to stand in front of Husk and you as a barrier. “And she’s the only one who’s been toleratin’ your ass.”
“Oh, how lovely the bar keep and the porn star come to your rescue?” Alastor laughs. “And you still don’t have a backbone to rebuttal yourself. What a weak, pathetic little pet you are.” He laughs again, like he was getting a real kick out of this. Angel became even more angry and started growing in size as Husk tried to pull him down. Charlie watched, shell shocked and looking betrayed, absolutely speechless.
“Angel, do not!” Vaggie warned, coming over. She was shoved back by Angel.
“Don’t. He’s gotten away with shit like this for too long.” Angel ground out, glaring at the Radio Demon.
Husk stood behind Angel, trying to get him to back down, explaining he wouldn’t be able to help.
“I don’t need ya help, I just wanna lay one good punch on ‘im.” Angel started forward, his demonic form taking over even more. Alastor responded in kind, as the infamous Radio Demon made an appearance, the inky black tentacles lifted him off the ground. You finally walk around and rest your hand on Angel’s thigh, the highest place you could reach. Angel looked down at you, tears still running down your face and Angel quickly shifted to his normal self, looking at you in concern. You shift your gaze to Alastor and his demon form, not flinching or even looking in disgust. You just looked disappointed and sad, his eyes widening a bit at that realization.
“I should have listened. To those who told me not to trust you. Not to let you close. For the “Radio Demon only brings destruction and chaos and delights in it every time”.” You quoted while nodding. “You may not even be listening to me now, but you owe me at least this Alastor.” You said as he slowly set his feet on the ground and the disgusted look he had before settled on his face looking at you.
“I owe you nothing.” Alastor said eariliy quiet.
“Then go, because I can assure you the words I say now are the last you’ll ever hear from me.” You say motioning to the staircase. Alastor makes no move to leave and you chuckle, not a drop of humor in it.
“I’m not sure what has you thinking that this is the best course of action. But pushing away those who care about you only ends with you being alone, truly alone. With no fall back plan, no help with shit when it goes sideways, nothing. You think you’re stronger for having no connections, but it makes you the weakest overlord there is. Carmilla is stronger than you. Rosie is stronger than you. The Vees are stronger than you.” You say stepping towards him as Angel tries to grab your hand to stop you. You rip your hand from his grasp and go up to Alastor.
“All I see, and all I’ve seen, is a scared little boy who never had the power to do what it took to protect those he loved while living, so you resorted to finding power over others anyway you could while cutting that side off you like a tumor. This,” You gesture to him, his smile, his proper clothes, the air of confidence yet nonchalance, “Is fake. You’re weak. You lack control and worse, you’re sloppy. And I’m done playing house.” You snarl back at him, watching everyone’s eyes widen. Alastor says nothing as you leave to your room, not allowing yourself to cry until your door is shut.
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PART 2 →
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janeyseymour · 6 months
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Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 1
@schemmentis threw out the idea of a reversal of LTN, so... here it is. I hope it delivers.
WC: ~3.3k
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When Melissa Schemmenti had said “for better or for worse, til death do us part,” she had wholeheartedly meant it and believed it. She had seen the way that her parents had fallen out of love and divorced, and she swore that she would learn from their mistakes and find a real and true love- that she would fight for her love and her life, and that she would never end up the bitter divorcée like her mother, cursing the father of her child in front of said child. 
But here she was doing everything she promised herself she wouldn’t and packing her bags along with her son’s after she caught Joe in bed with his babysitter. And then he had the audacity to tell her that they needed to divorce- that he was in love with Alyssa and couldn’t keep this charade going.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” Melissa grumbles as she hold her son on her hip. “Sleeping with the nanny… fuckin’ babysitter fucker.”
“Momma.”
“I’m sorry Joey,” the redhead mumbles as she presses a kiss to the little boy’s head. She curses the day she let her idiot of a husband convince her to name their son after him. “I’m sorry… Momma’s just… mad.”
“Really mad?” the newly four year old asks.
Melissa just nods once before continuing to pack their bags.
“Momma?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re getting out of here,” the teacher sighs. “Daddy decided that we aren’t good enough for him anymore, and you know what? We’re better than him… so we’re leaving, and we’re goin’ to be real happy.”
The last thing that she packs before they leave for the night is the divorce papers. She shows up at Kristen Marie’s doorstep praying that her sister will be kind enough to let the two Schemmenti’s stay on her couch.
“Melissa? Joey?”
“Please don’t say his name,” Melissa groans as she rubs at her temple with the hand not holding her four year old. “I- I can’t right now without wanting to take my bat to that rat bastard’s car.”
“Rat bastard?” Joey echoes through a yawn. He reaches over for his aunt.
“Don’t repeat what Momma just said,” the blonde Schemmenti sister sighs as she takes the little boy into her arms. “What happened, Mel?”
“Asshole slept with the nanny, and then even after I forgave him for the sake of our son handed me divorce papers at dinner,” the redhead huffs. “Can we crash here on the couch for the night? If I have to look at him one more time tonight…”
“Stay as long as you need,” Kristen tells her sister as she roams further into her townhouse. “And you damn well know I ain’t letting you sleep on the couch when I have a perfectly good guest room.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Melissa sighs softly. “Thank you.”
That was three months ago. In those three months, Joe had promised to give Melissa absolute hell when it came to the divorce and settling everything, claiming that Joe Jr. needed to be with his father. The redhead was adamant that their son, who she now called strictly “JJ”, would be staying with her. This divorce was getting intense and messy, and everything that the second grade teacher had hoped it wouldn’t be- but when there’s a small child involved, of course it would get messy.
In those three months though, the Schemmenti sisters had used their powers of knowing many different guys who were able to help throw together a decently sized apartment for cheap, and she was able to get a steal in terms of rent.
The two had just finished setting up JJ’s bedroom when Kristen Marie finally called it a day. And that leaves Melissa and her son. Her son who is absolutely starving and exhausted and not yet used to this new place that he was supposed to call home.
“Love,” the redhead sighs as she tries to soothe his wailing. The second grade teacher is positive that this place had thin walls, and her neighbors are going to hate her if he continued to cry like this.
“I want to go home!” JJ cries into his mother’s shoulder.
Melissa lets out a shaky breath. “This is home now.”
“No!” his little balled up fist collides with his mother’s shoulder blade. It takes everything in the redhead to not groan out in pain.
“JJ,” Melissa warns. “We do not hit Momma.”
“I don’t care!” he shouts as he does it again.
“Joseph Alexander,” the mother says sternly. She hates that her son shares a first name with his father, even more so now that they’re in the midst of a dirvorce.
The redhead closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Maybe we need to go on a walk. What do you think? I think that sounds like a great idea,” she thinks aloud. The woman knows that walking around with him while humming softly is almost a sure fire way to get him to fall asleep and stay asleep for at least thirty minutes while she makes dinner, and it has been the perfect way to lull him to sleep since he was born.
She steps out into the hallway and begins to bounce him gently as she walks up and down the hallway, mindlessly singing her favorite tunes softly. When she starts to sing “You Are My Sunshine” though, something else takes over in her body, and she can’t help the tears that form in her eyes. They fall down her cheeks so delicately, and with her son in her arms, she is unable wipe them away. There’s something different about the song now that her marriage had turned into a failed one, and Joe is truly trying to take her little boy, her sunshine, away.
And that’s when you just so happen to be making your way out of your own apartment from down the hall. You immediately hear the soft and sad tune that you’ve had memorized since you were little, and your gaze follows the voice. Your eyes land on a stunning redhead that you’ve never seen before who is holding a now sleeping little boy- and then you see that her eyes are sparkling with tears. Deciding not to overstep and say anything when it looks like this woman is clearly in distress, you simply wave at her gently with an encouraging smile before heading for the elevator.
Once Melissa is sure that JJ is out for at least a little bit, she heads back into the apartment and sets him on the couch. The mother drapes a blanket over her dozing son before pressing a soft kiss to his chubby little cheek and making her way into the kitchen.
It’s much later when you return back from the gym and freshen up in the shower. As you go to sit on the couch with a glass of wine to unwind for the night, you frown. Maybe you should check on that neighbor of yours. You’re familiar with everyone else who lives on your floor, so you know which door to knock on in order to find that beautiful emerald-eyed woman from earlier in the evening with a second glass of wine in hand to offer to the woman that you don’t know the name of.
Inside the apartment, Melissa is sitting on her new couch with a bowl of popcorn and a rather heavy pour of red wine as she watches her reality television show that she hasn’t had time to watch in the midst of the move. 
Your knock startles her. It’s loud enough to get her attention, and she grabs the bat that sits next to her for protection. She approaches the door with her bat in hand.
“Who is it?” the redhead yells just loud enough for you to hear, but not loud enough to wake the little boy in the other room.
“You the woman that just moved in?” you call back.
“What’s it to you?!” she asks, and her grip on the bat just gets tighter, although she knows it’s probably nothing worth worrying about. Your voice was light and sweet, even at the volume you were using.
“Saw you had a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You looked real stressed.”
At that, she opens the door just a crack, and she recognizes you as the woman she saw a few hours earlier. Her bat lowers, and she opens it a bit more.
“The help would’ve been nice while I was moving in,” she retorts.
“Trust me, if I were around this last week, I would’ve offered to help,” you sigh softly. “Away for work… but it’s nice to meet you now.” You offer her the glass of rosé wine that you had brought from down the hall.
“I’m already ahead of you there,” she sighs with a bitter chuckle. “Thank you though.”
“Yeah,” you laugh softly as you tuck a hair behind your ear. Now that you can see her up close and personal, you see that she really is stunning- beautiful red hair, sparkling jade colored eyes, straight teeth, and you would be lying if you hadn’t stolen a glance at her figure. “I thought it might be a nice way to introduce myself and welcome you to the second floor. If I- If I had anything for your little boy, I would’ve brought it over too, but I wasn’t aware that the new neighbor had a little boy.”
She purses her lips. “You don’t gotta act like you care about the new neighbors.”
“I don’t,” you give her that. “But I always go out of my way to try to make the newbies feel welcome- especially when I see that the new neighbor is upset in the hallway with her little boy on my way to the gym.”
That gets Melissa’s false bravado to break just slightly. “Sorry if that disturbed you. It’s the only way I can get him to go down for a nap when he’s like this- all riled up from the move.” 
You just raise a hand and shake your head gently. “No need to apologize. Your singing is a lot less disturbing than the sex I can hear my other neighbors having.”
The redhead can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous comment you just made. “I more meant his crying.”
“Little kids cry- my sister’s kid cries all the time. I’m used to it,” you chuckle softly. “Now seriously, do you need anything? How can I help?”
“I think I’m okay,” she tells you. “But I do appreciate the check in… Sorry I approached the door with a bat.”
You wave a hand in dismissal. “I get it. Being in West Philly by yourself as a woman can be scary- I have to admit I would’ve done the same thing.”
She just smirks at you.
“Well,” you sigh. “Have a good rest of your night, neighbor. Welcome to the second floor.”
You turn on your heel and start to head back down to your own apartment when her voice stops you. “Wait!” You turn back to face her. “I- I never got your name.”
“Y/N,” you smile at her.
“M- Melissa,” is all the redhead can stammer out as she takes a moment to memorize the name to the face. “And my son is JJ.”
“Well, it was really nice to meet you, Melissa. If you need me, I’m just two doors down at 208. Don’t be a stranger,” you wink at her before heading back into your own apartment.
The redhead stands there for a second, not quite knowing how to feel about you. You’re odd- the only Philadelphian who has given her the time of day, and then you wink at her? It’s different, and entirely the opposite of how most Philadelphians are, and somehow, she’s intrigued by you.
It’s the next day when you’re heading back from work that you stop at the Target on your way home to pick up groceries. When you pass the children’s section, you pause before turning your cart down that way. You throw a thing of Play-doh in before continuing down. If you run into Melissa today, you’ll give it to her for her son.
You do end up running into her as she’s trying to unlock her door. She has her son on her hip again, but she’s on the phone this time. She’s shouting into the phone as you pass her with the bags you’ve brought up. You dig through your bags before you hand her the little container filled with the clay for JJ, and she gives you an odd look. You just nod and smile before making your way into your apartment and unloading your groceries. 
When there’s a knock on your door, you jump just slightly as you pull the handmade pizza out of the oven. You set the dinner on the stove before making your way over to the front door. You glance out of your peephole, and there is Melissa with JJ on her hip and giggling with glee as he plays with the Playdoh you bought for him.
“Hey,” you open the door with a smile.
“We thought we would just stop by and say thank you,” the woman bounces the little boy on her hip gently. He giggles, but his eyes don’t leave his hands. “JJ, say thank you to Miss Y/N.”
“Thank you!” he grins as his eyes finally leave the dough in his hands.
Your smile only gets softer as you see how adorable the little guy is. “You’re so welcome. I’m glad you like it!”
“Like it?! I love it!” JJ squeals and kicks his legs with glee. “It’s my favorite color too! How did you know I loved blue?!”
“Thank you,” Melissa tells you gently. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t have to,” you shrug. “But I wanted to.”
The emerald-eyed woman doesn’t quite know what else to say, so there’s a bit of an awkward silence that washes over the two of you.
“Would you two like to come in for dinner? I made homemade pizza,” you offer, hoping to cut the tension and perhaps get to spend a bit of time with your new neighbors from down the hall.
“Pizza?!” JJ’s eyes light up at the word.
Melissa looks down at her son. “Baby, I thought you wanted pasta.”
“But Momma, pizza!” he shouts with enthusiasm.
Green eyes meet yours, as if she’s trying to find whatever game your playing. But you look genuine with your invite. “Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding?”
“Positive,” you tell her softly. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”
Dinner is nice. Melissa is guarded at first, but her walls slowly come down as she truly sees that you have no malicious intention inviting her and her son in. JJ adores you immediately, telling his mother that he’s never had such good pizza. She has to admit too, your pizza is one of the best she’s had. She doesn’t know that your cousin owns a shop down the street, and you’ve tweaked his recipe to be better than the pies he sells.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” you chuckle softly as you start to clean up the meal. Then you glance to his mother. “Care for another glass of wine?”
“As much as I would love to,” she sighs. “I’ve gotta get my little man to get bed.”
“Ah, yes,” you smile. “I totally understand. Well, thanks for coming over.”
“Thank you for having us,” the redhead says genuinely as she wipes the four year old’s face clean of the sauce that’s spread all over. She wipes his hands, and then holds out her own for him to take.
He doesn’t take her hand though, and he instead runs over to you and hugs your leg. Your hand immediately goes to his back and pats it gently with the softest smile on your face.
“Thank you, Miss Y/N.” JJ looks up with you, and his eyes sparkle the way his mother’s do.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you tell him gently, voice warm and smooth like butter. You crouch down to his height and hug him properly.
Melissa watches the two of you with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. She’s in awe of how well you handle him. You’re definitely younger than her, but you have such a way with JJ- maybe it’s because you have a niece or a nephew, she remembers.
You give him one last gentle squeeze before letting him go. “I think your momma’s waitin’ for you, hun.”
He giggles before running over to the redhead and lifting his arms up with a soft request for, “Uppy.” Of course, the mother settles him on her hip with ease, and she tosses a thank you over her shoulder as she makes her way towards your front door. Something stops her though, and she turns back around into the kitchen where you’re washing dishes.
“If you want, you can pop over any time after 7:30 for a glass of wine,” she tells you. “JJ will be down for the night by then.”
“I’ll see you at eight,” you tell her softly, and you wink at her again. 
As Melissa tucks her son in for the night, she can’t help but wonder if you’ll show. There’s a big part of her that hopes that you’ll make your way down the hall, although she can’t quite place why she’s taken such an interest in you. She indeed has taken up an interest in you- you’re meek and mild, a sweet lady who has nothing but the best intentions from what she can see (and that’s quite hard for her to not be pessimistic about you, but you’ve managed to make her believe that you might just be good at the root of it all). You’re completely the opposite of her ex-husband and entirely not her type.
And at eight o’clock sharp, you show up at her door, a bottle of wine in hand.
“Hey,” you sigh softly when she opens the door for you. “I brought wine.”
“Wine’s on me, hun,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “You make dinner on a night where I really didn’t want to cook, so I provide the drinks after. What do you like?”
You shrug. “I’ll drink whatever.”
She pours a glass of red- and while you aren’t necessarily a fan of any type of red blend, you take it and sip on it. It tastes much better when it comes from someone as beautiful as her. 
“So,” you start as you settle on her couch. “Do you wanna talk about that rather heated phone call I caught you in the middle of earlier today?”
She closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath.
“Hey,” you say gently, and you reach a hand out to lay over hers. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t gotta.”
“Shit soon-to-be ex-husband,” is all she says, and you immediately understand. The frown that washes over your face is one that you can’t hide.
“I’m sorry,” you tell her immediately.
She shrugs. “Caught him fucking the babysitter. He handed me the divorce papers three months ago, and now I’m in a damn custody battle over my son… like hell is he going to get JJ.”
“Custody battle?”
“Yeah,” the redhead groans. “And my lawyer is taking his sweet ol’ time, so right now, I’m shit out of luck.”
“I- I may be able to help you with that one,” you tell her. Her brows raise, and that’s when you reveal what you do for a profession. “I’m a lawyer… specifically in family court.”
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