#I promise I will draw them old again. LATER

[abyssalzones]

it's fine it's not like these things get worse with age or anything

[thecloudsaremyhome]

✧Pity party✧

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

TW: thoughts of suicide and depression

When have I ever been enough for them? When have they ever been their for me? When…when!

It’s like a constant void is inside of me tearing me from the inside and out slowly consuming my body and mind.

It all started when you lost your mother. She was never the best person figuratively but she was the best to you. She loved you so much and that’s all that mattered to you. Well at the time it did but you can't take anymore of the lonely nights alone you cant take the missed birthdays and missed events only to be forgotten later you cant take it anymore and the sad part is…. You only blame yourself every false promise, every forgotten birthday, every holiday spent alone you blame yourself. Why is that? Well you won't ever be good enough you'll never be good enough to be considered part of their family to have dinners in the dining room instead of up in your old room alone. To have movie nights together, to cuddle with dick and be on the receiving end of his affection to paint and draw with damian as we banter, to go shopping with Cassandra and stephanie, to at least hang out with barbara or to at least sit in silence with jason. You'll never be good enough ever and its hard to admit that fact but you had to have the universe have it out for you to make you suffer and it did its job well. It hurts it hurt so fucking bad that it just wants to make you scream to bang your head into the wall until it bleeds to cut yourself over and over again until the pain stops until the void is filled. Because in reality it will never be filled, the void in your heart and soul can never be filled. It will grow stronger and stronger until it bursts until you make the final decision to grab a knife and slowly slit your throat. Because when your mother died your soul died with her. But the only thing stopping your from achieving your plan was Alfred, he was your only solace and no matter how bad it hurt seeing him prioritize them over you he was still their at least. But it was never enough you will never be enough thats what you constantly reminded yourself throughout the fourteen years you've lived in the manor that you will never be good enough for anyone and you've accepted that fact over and over again with dicks false promises, damian's harsh words stephanie's pitying stare cassandera’s ignorance to your presence tims calculating gaze looking at you as if your an object and your fathers ignorant look to your absolute existence. It hurt it hurt so fucking bad seeing them bond seemlessy togther but then excluding you like your nothing more than trash maybe you are? Maybe you really are just a piece of garbage to them a fly in a room of butterflies you'll never shine like they do you'll sit in the background hoping and waiting for the chance to be loved the chance to feel affection for the first time, and sense well you don't know. All you can understand is you'll never be enough and thats fine youll just sit in the background as they shine you'll always be heard but never seen. You’ll wait and wait until its finally time to mae your exit and leave to go beyond the land of butterflies and explore a new and brighter land but be carefully little fly butterflies may be pretty but they are just as dangerous as well.

Authors note: hello everyone welcome to a series called pity party! This is a prologue! But you can all send in asks!

[lipglossanon]

Until the End

Real son!Leon S. Kennedy x real mom!reader (one shot)

Warnings: incest, dead dove, mom/son, simp Leon, cnc (reader’s “not” into it at first 😉), kissing, dirty talk, teasing, oral (f receiving), just the tip 😩, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink to the extreme

not proofread ✍️ it’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything so hopefully this doesn’t suck lmao the ending is just kinda meh

shoutout to the discord; I posted some of this WIP and they gave me the inspo to finish 🤭

title from the Breaking Benjamin song

It’s a quiet affair when you sign the divorce papers. Your husband—of twenty four years—deciding that he’d rather live overseas with his secretary instead of sticking it out; it’s not something you would have foreseen, but as they say hindsight’s always 20/20. It upset you at first but once the indignation died down, you realize you feel more relief than anything. Things have been strained for years and then in the last five, he’s barely been home long enough to chat about your days. 

The one who took it the hardest out of anyone is Leon. Your husband offered him a place to stay, but he chose to live with you (being a mama’s boy through and through). After his father left, Leon angrily refused to speak with him anymore and instead focused on his work and trying to pick up any slack around the house. Not that you hadn’t already been doing that for years, but it’s sweet of him to want to take care of you. 

He dotes on you now, making sure you’re eating and drinking and taking care of yourself. His friends tease him about it or rib him about having a milf (which you had the unfortunate chance to overhear as you walked into the living room). Meeting Leon’s mortified gaze, you smile tightly and walk through to the kitchen. He kicks them out and apologizes profusely to you, face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he murmurs how sorry he is and promises it won’t happen again. 

Things go back to normal for a while. The absence of your husband is something you don’t even notice anymore. Leon is more than capable of moving out and living on his own, but he says it’s closer to work and easier to keep an eye on you if he lives at home. Besides, he told you with a serious face, he doesn’t have a girlfriend to make things awkward so for now you just need to chill out and let him take care of things. 

He gets a promotion at work, no longer relegated to being just a traffic cop, and you couldn’t be more proud! Your offer to take him out to a nice dinner gets turned down; in its place is an evening of take out and drinking. Since it’s the weekend, neither of you are worried about being hungover the next day, so you both end up drinking more than you usually would. 

Later, Leon walks with you from the dining room to the living room, each of you laughing at some silly joke that you can’t even remember. 

Settling together on the couch, he tucks into your side, face nuzzling against your neck like he used to do as a little boy. You giggle and run your hand through his hair. 

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you murmur, “but aren’t you a little too old to be cuddling your mom?”

“Uh uh,” he whines, making you laugh harder, “always need you, mama.”

“Okay, okay,” you pat his head, slumping further into the couch, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, “my little boy’s all grown up.”

Feeling maudlin now at remembering that the passage of time waits for no one, you sniffle and it draws Leon’s attention.  

“What’s a’matter?” He mumbles, hazy blue eyes sharpening to see your tears, “mom?”

You smile and cup his cheek. Neither of you have shied away from physical affection; however, you remember on more than one occasion you thought Leon went overboard with cuddling and snuggling with you. Now that seems like a silly thought, he just missed you during his long hours on duty. 

“Nothing, just so proud of you,” you smile, dropping your hand to rub his shoulder. 

He kisses your cheek and you coo softly. Moving closer, he lands another soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Blaming it on the alcohol, a warm thrum of heat sings through your stomach. 

“Mama,” he whimpers, lips clumsily landing on yours. 

You freeze, body heavy and thoughts slow. Leon presses his mouth more firmly against yours and you gasp, lips parting under his and he eagerly kisses you harder. Whining, you try to tug your head away but he follows you, kisses becoming rougher while pressing you deeper against the couch. 

Your hands come up and tangle in his hair, but instead of pulling him back they scrape against his scalp, making him groan deliciously. He shifts, pulling away to tilt his head at a better angle before pressing another hot kiss against your lips. You sink into it, clit pulsing in arousal, mouth tingling from each sloppy kiss from your son.

Finally, you twist away, panting heavily while Leon rests his forehead against your jaw. 

“Mama, why’d you stop?” He presses a soft kiss under your ear, making you shiver.

“Leon, this—this isn’t right,” you plead, eyelashes fluttering as he nips and sucks your neck.

“Just this once,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin and sending chills down your body. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you, mommy.”

His words and actions are muddling your mind… and you’ve been lonely for so long. Swallowing, you breath out a shaky breath, mind made up.

“O-okay,” your body feels hot, muttering that out loud.

Moaning, he bites your jaw then kisses your cheek. “Thank you.”

He shows his appreciation by kissing the breath from your lungs; your son’s excitement ramps up your own, cunt pulsing with need as slick fills your panties. Wet, drugging kisses pass between you until you completely lose yourself to the feeling, making out with Leon until your lips are swollen. 

You jump, feeling his fingers trail along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and brushing against your panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Wanna bury my face in your pussy.”

You moan, and he teases your cunt through the soppy fabric.

“You can’t,” your hips grind down into his hand.

“Okay, promise I’ll behave,” he chuckles.

Without another word, he flips your skirt up and slips your panties down your legs to bunch at your ankles.

“Oh mommy,” he moans, fingers tracing your slit up and down before circling your clit, “your pussy’s so soft. Fuck me.”

Your hips buck and he bites his bottom lip, fingers rubbing up and down your pussy lips. 

“So, so soft,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his fingers are touching, “my stubble’s gonna feel so rough when I kiss her, mama.”

You whine high and reedy but shake your head, “No, no, this is all I’m allowing, Leon. You promised.”

“Just a kiss or two,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “she needs it, look how soft and sweet she is, just begging for my mouth. C’mon, mama, just let me have a couple of kisses.”

Your resolve cracks at his pleading. 

“Just a couple, then we stop,” you try to sound firm but your voice comes out breathier than you’d like. 

“Mmhmm, thank you, mama,” he kisses the side of your cheek then the corner of your lips.

You feel a little disappointed that he stops to kneel between your legs. He brings his hands up to spread apart your cunt, slick dripping from your hole as his mouth hovers over your mound. 

“Oh fuck, mom,” Leon whines, tongue lapping at your clit, “so fucking wet. Am I making you this wet? God, your pussy’s so fucking sexy.”

Another groan and he’s fluttering his tongue across your pudgy bud before sucking it gently into his mouth. He pulls back and kisses the hood of your clit. You moan softly and cant your hips up. 

“W-we shouldn’t, baby,” you plead, fingers tangling in his hair again, but not pushing him away. 

“Been wanting to do this forever, dreaming about how I wanna lick your pretty pussy til you cream all over my face,” he pants, dilated eyes watching your face, “gonna make you cum over and over tonight.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy, walls clamping around the slippery muscle, “Leon! 

He hums and grinds his nose against your clit as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, spit dripping down your ass onto the couch cushions. Your eyes flutter as your orgasm winds tight in your abdomen. 

“Need to eat you out everyday, mama,” he pulls back, slick shining across his lips and chin, “treat this pussy like she deserves. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

He sucks your clit back into his mouth, hot tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. It only takes a few more teasing licks before your climax breaks over your body like a tidal wave. Toes curling, your hands tug on his hair making him moan, tonguing at your fluttering cunt until he finally pulls away with one last sucking kiss. 

He crowds you on the couch, thick forearms hooking under your knees to keep you spread open. He nods down to his jeans; your eyes flit from his face to the bulge pressing obscenely against his zipper. 

“Pull it out,” he murmurs, blue eyes nearly black. “Take my cock out so I can stuff your cunt, mommy.”

Shaking your head, your voice cracks, “No, baby. That’s going too far.”

He whines, “But it hurts, mama. You’re being so mean. At least jerk me off.”

Biting your lip, his pouty mouth has you reaching forward, undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs. You gently ease his dick from his briefs, uncut head sticky with precum. You both moan when you grip his stiff cock, the blood hot skin against your palm turning you on more than you ever thought. Thumb pressing against the slit, you smear the pearlescent sheen across his tip until he’s whimpering. 

“Mommy,” his hips thrust forward, “it’s sensitive.” 

He sags forward, and your legs slide up his arms until your calves press against his biceps. This new position has his dick grinding against your swollen cunt, the head grazing across your pudgy clit. Your fingers loosely circle the base of his cock, the backs of your knuckles brushing against his balls. 

“So good, fuck,” he chokes out, humping your pussy. “Just let me cum like this, let me mark you up, mama. Yeah, just coat this sexy fucking pussy with my cum.”

Keening, you let go of his cock to feather your fingers against his heavy balls. “You can, you can cum all over me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he watches his cock slip between your pussy lips to rub against your hole. “Mommy, just let me put the tip in, please? Promise it’ll just be the tip. Please.”

You know you should say no, but then again you should’ve put a stop to this before it even started. Just the tip wouldn’t be so bad, you think, eyes greedily taking in his fat, drippy tip. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try it out.

“Just the tip, Leon,” you murmur, flicking up to meet his blown out gaze. “But only this once.”

“Thank you,” he groans, “love you so much, mama.”

Moving one hand from his hold on your leg, he grips his cock and guides the head to your clenching hole. His thumb presses down on the head as he rocks forward, slipping the tip into your wet cunt. You suck in a deep breath at the same time he grunts. The other hand gripping your thigh tightens, fingertips tightly digging into the soft skin. 

Leon blows out a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You feel so good.”

He ruts the head of his cock in and out of your pussy, the wet schlick loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Your hands move over your head to drape over the back of the couch, fingers grasping at the cushions. 

“Can I—,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. “Can I go a little deeper, mommy?”

Your slick hole clenches down on him and he whimpers. 

“H-how much deeper?” You hear yourself say, mouth running away from you. 

“Just an inch or two,” he gasps, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of your cunt. “Pretty please, mommy.”

You nod, eyes unable to look away from where he’s splitting you open, dick driving deeper and deeper—going so much farther than a few inches—into your pussy until he’s completely buried in your pulsing walls. 

“Leon!” You cry out, head falling back as your cunt stretches around the fat girth of his cock.

“Sorry, mama,” he practically slurs, pussy drunk already. “Didn’t mean to, it just slipped.”

You whimper at the pleasure pain of his tip kissing your cervix as he grinds himself against your cunt. Clit rubbing against his pelvis makes you squeeze and clench around his dick, in turn making him groan from deep in his chest. He barely pulls out before fucking back into your sopping wet hole. 

“So perfect,” his face pinches in pleasure. “God, mom, your pussy—gonna make me cum so fast.”

You dig your hands into the couch and roll your hips down into his thrusts, “You need to pull out, baby. It’s bad to cum inside. You’ve gotta pull out of mommy’s cunt.”

He makes a broken sound from the back of his throat and drives his cock into you with harsh, pounding thrusts. 

“No, I’m gonna cum in you, make you nice and full,” he bites out, sweat dripping from the straight line of his nose onto you. “Stuff you so full, mama.”

You can’t hide how his words make your pussy clamp down on his cock, his own hips stuttering as your cunt tries to milk his cock. 

“Yeah, mommy, squeezing me so good, so fucking good,” he pants. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

He reaches down, hot palm a brand across your mound as his thumb teases your clit. You thrash against him, but it’s no use as he strums your swollen bud in rough little circles that makes your thighs tremble. 

“Leon,” you moan, a second orgasm quickly building in your core. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop the frantic pumping of his hips, fucking his cock into your squelching heat while he rubs your clit—his blue eyes jumping between your face and your pussy. Mouth dropping open, he groans, mumbling praises and promises under his breath. Pinching your clit between the knuckles of his first and middle finger, he gives pulsing squeezes to the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re cumming loudly. 

Your back bows, fireworks going off in your brain, dimly realizing that Leon’s gripping your hips as he wildly fucks your cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, mom,” he chokes on the word, burying himself balls deep in your soft, wet walls and spilling his thick cum as deep as possible. 

You whimper, squeezing down on him as the hot splash of his spend fills your cunt. He eventually stills, hips still snugly pressed against you as close as possible. Slick and jizz begin to slowly leak out from around his softening cock. He hisses when he pulls out, then immediately whimpers, fingers playing with his cum dripping from your hole.

“Leon, stop, it’s sensitive,” you gasp, eyes slipping closed when his fingers slide up to rub across your fat clit. 

“Sorry, mama,” he pulls back only to drop to his knees, eyes dark, mouth hovering tantalizingly close to your sloppy cunt. “Let me kiss it better.”

[noirscript]

lavender snow

pairing/s: yandere husband x f!reader description: You find the old tape by accident, tucked where no one should’ve known to look—yet somehow, Luca did. As her voice spills softly through the static, you realize you’re not listening to a memory… you’re remembering something you were never meant to forget. warning/s: yandere | hints of memory lost | implied past abuse note/s: I accidentally found out that my mic's fried af and got this idea. I might add this kind of content on my ko-fi for monthly subs? It'll come with complimentary fic of course. Also, I'll add the banner later. p.s. it's unedited audio so it's scuffed as hell.

Masterlist | Dark Roast | Sovereign's Reign Pre-Order | Commission | Tip Jar

You don’t remember the tape.

Not where it came from, not how it ended up inside a box of out-of-season clothes, or why your name is written on the spine in your own handwriting—faint and fading, like it tried to disappear. The box had been buried deep in the attic, hidden beneath moth-eaten sweaters and the sagging ribs of a broken umbrella. You hadn’t even meant to find it. But now it sits in your lap like it’s been waiting for you to come back.

The cassette is warm in your hands. No label, no markings, just a faint impression where something had once been stuck to it. Your stomach tightens. You’re not sure why, but you dig out the old player from the back of a cupboard and feed the tape into its slot. The machine shudders to life with a soft whirr, then static, and then—your voice.

“Hi, sweetheart. If you’re remembering this... I guess that means he’s kept it safe. Just like he promised.”

Your breath catches. The words settle heavily in the space around you, too tender, too familiar. It’s your voice, no doubt about it, but there's something off in the cadence—like someone rehearsing affection through clenched teeth.

You sit still, your eyes fixed on the aging plastic player as your voice continues.

“I thought maybe one day, when the world feels quieter... you’d want to remember this. Us. The way the light used to fall through the window at 4PM. How the air smelled like sun-warmed sheets and cinnamon. He always made sure everything was just perfect, didn’t he?”

A strange pressure blooms in your chest. You don’t remember making this recording. You don’t remember any of it—the window light, the scent of cinnamon, or whoever he is.

You sound so… happy.

Too happy.

The you on the tape laughs lightly, but even that sounds rehearsed. It’s too round, too smooth, like a laugh meant to soothe someone else. Not you.

“I don’t even know how long it’s been now,” your voice says. “Days feel a little soft around the edges. But every one of them is filled with love. He tells me that all the time. That I’m loved. That I’m safe.”

That last word—safe—wraps around your spine and squeezes. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the way you say it. Quietly. Soft as a secret. The kind of word you only whisper when the truth is something you’re not allowed to say.

A prickle crawls over the back of your neck.

“Sometimes I dream about the park. That little bench under the jacaranda tree? You remember. I said something silly about the petals looking like lavender snow. You laughed.”

You swallow. Your throat is dry.

“That was before I knew how loud the world could be when you don’t belong to it anymore.”

The air in the room turns cold. You don’t remember that bench. You don’t remember that moment. But your body responds to the sound of it—like it’s chasing something long buried. Your shoulders draw in. Your fingertips twitch. A faint headache blooms at your temples.

“But it’s okay now,” the voice continues. “He says I don’t have to worry about any of that. Not anymore. Not with him.”

The machine clicks faintly as the tape continues to roll. You hear the rustle of fabric in the background. Wood creaking. A low breath, not yours. You pause the tape.

The room is silent.

You press play again, hesitating just long enough to question whether you should.

“I should go. He doesn’t like it when I record too long without him.”

There’s a pause. Barely a second. But it’s there. You can hear your voice hover just a little too long over that sentence, like you're waiting to see if the walls will punish you for saying it aloud.

“But I hope, when you hear this… you smile. Just a little. Just enough to remember me the way he wants me to be remembered.”

Another pause. Your voice drops lower, almost reverent.

“Perfect. Quiet. Home.”

Then: a click. End of tape.

You sit frozen on the floor. The stillness around you is thick and wrong. You want to dismiss it as a prank. Maybe an old performance, an acting exercise, something you’d recorded and forgotten about. But something in your gut rebels at the thought. This wasn't a character. That was you.

You stand, rubbing your arms, suddenly cold despite the sunlight slanting through the blinds. Your feet move without you telling them to, carrying you to the kitchen where you run cold water over your hands. But when you glance down, something catches your eye.

Your left palm.

Faint black ink, faded by time and skin, clings to the lines of your hand like a warning:

don’t trust him

You blink, heart stuttering. The writing is old. Worn. You scrub at it, but it doesn’t fade. You don't remember writing it, don’t even remember seeing it before today. But it’s your handwriting. And the fear in your chest tells you you wrote it for a reason.

You rush back to the box in the attic, tearing through what’s left. Beneath the collapsed lid of a hollowed-out book, you find a crumpled scrap of paper. Another note, also written by you.

“If you find the tape, go to the basement. There’s more.”

The words don’t make sense. You’ve lived in this house for two years. There is no basement.

But your body moves before your thoughts catch up. Your steps lead you to the hallway where a locked door waits. One you’ve always assumed was just a closet. You’ve never had a key.

Today, it’s open.

The stairs beyond descend into shadow.

You hesitate, every part of you screaming to stop, to turn around. But your hand grips the railing and you descend slowly, your heartbeat loud in your ears. The air grows colder with every step. The smell down here is old. Musty. Earthy.

And faintly metallic.

The overhead light flickers to life when you tug the chain, bathing the room in weak, yellow glow. There’s a table against the far wall. And on it—a cassette deck. Surrounding it is a neat stack of tapes. Dozens of them. All unlabeled. All pristine.

You approach slowly, dread sinking like lead into your bones. The deck is already loaded. You press play.

The familiar whir clicks to life. Then:

“Hi, sweetheart. If you’re remembering this...”

Your knees nearly give. It’s the same recording. Or no—not the same. A different take. You’re talking about a different day. Different sunlight. Different cinnamon. Different bruises, maybe.

You grab the next tape. And the next. One by one, you feed them into the machine and listen.

Each time, your voice greets someone with warmth. Each time, you sound a little more distant. A little more tired. A little more robotic. In one, you sound as if you’re crying through a smile. In another, you start to say something else—“If anyone finds th—” before the tape cuts off with a harsh click.

You begin to shake.

And then you hear something you hadn’t before.

In the background, beneath your voice, there’s breathing.

Yours. But not just yours.

Heavier. Male.

Closer.

Footsteps.

Not on the tape. Behind you.

You turn sharply.

Someone is coming down the stairs.

Your stomach turns. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The light above you flickers. A shadow moves across the wall.

Then a voice. Low. Warm. Familiar.

“You always forget, don’t you?”

You can’t breathe.

“That’s why I made the tapes. So you’d remember. So you’d always come back to me.”

He steps into the light. His expression is soft, fond. Too fond.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

The light buzzes overhead, then sputters out.

In the dark, the tape keeps playing.

And from it—your voice whispers one last thing:

“Perfect. Quiet. Home.”

tbc.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl @nomi-candies @jsprien213 @kaii-nana33 @saturnalya @yandereaficionado @pinksaiyans @ivantillenthusiast @missybabes

[yvesssssssss]

could i request nagumo, shin, and natsuki turning into kids again for a day or something (if you’ve heard of that trope!! sorry if you havent LOL) and reader taking care of them because what else are you gonna do when your boyfriend turns back to 5

Sakamoto days men turning into a childe

Nagumo yoichi

You open the door to your apartment, expecting a package.

Instead, there's a tiny child on your welcome mat with messy black hair, mismatched socks, a plastic sword strapped to his back with tape, and a smug little smirk way too confident for someone who can barely reach the doorknob.

“Yo,” he says, hands on his hips. “It’s me. Nagumo. I’m five. Don't freak out.”

You stare at him. “What.”

“Someone thought it'd be funny to hit me with some age-reversal serum,” he says, shrugging like this happens all the time. “Long story. I’m adorable now. You got juice?”

“…You’re my boyfriend.”

“Not for the next twelve hours, babe,” he chirps, walking into your apartment like he owns it. “Unless you’re into daycare romance. Not judging.”

You're still frozen in the doorway, processing the fact that your lethal, flirty assassin boyfriend is now about three feet tall and currently attempting to climb onto your kitchen counter.

“I’m making eggs!” he yells.

“No, you're not—get down!”

He leaps off the stool with a cackle, lands like a cat, and runs into the living room. You follow, only to find he’s already fashioned a pillow fort and is demanding “the headband with the frog on it” to “complete his vibe.”

The next several hours are a blur of:

Nagumo trying to duel your neighbor's cat with a plastic spoon.

Drawing a very detailed crayon map of how he plans to rob a candy store.

Asking you 47 times if he can have coffee ("just a sip, c’mon")

Falling asleep halfway through bragging about how cool his future self is.

When he finally passes out, curled up on your chest with one hand still gripping your sleeve, you hesitate before whispering:

“…You are adorable.”

Tiny Nagumo shifts in his sleep and mumbles, “Knew it…”

Shin asakura

You opened your door expecting to start your day peacefully, but instead, a very small, five-year-old version of Shin was standing on your doorstep, looking incredibly serious despite his pint-sized form.

“Y/N,” he greeted you, arms crossed, his expression exactly the same as it always is, though now it was framed by an adorable mop of brown hair. “I don’t know how this happened. I’m five years old now. Help.”

You blinked in confusion. “Shin?”

He sighed in frustration. “I know. I’m just as upset as you are. But we don’t have time to waste, alright? The candy’s cursed, I ate it, and now—this.” He gestured vaguely at himself, clearly annoyed by his new body. "Do you have any juice?"

“Are you serious?” you asked, completely bewildered, but already stepping aside to let him into your apartment. “You’re five now. I don't know how to take care of a child!”

“I’m not a child,” Shin muttered. “I’m an adult in a five-year-old’s body. There’s a difference.” He scowled up at you, clearly unamused by your confusion. "I need to solve this before lunch."

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “Alright, I’ll get you some juice. And a snack… for now. But we’re taking a nap after.”

“I don’t nap,” Shin replied flatly, still looking too serious for a child his size. “I’m too busy thinking about how I’ll fix this.”

You handed him a glass of juice and leaned against the counter. “You’ve got an hour. Then you’re going down for a nap.”

Shin rolled his eyes and sipped at the juice, but the moment he finished, you made good on your promise. He protested, but there was no winning against your resolve. He was five, after all.

Later that afternoon, after he’d settled down with a stuffed animal and a cartoon on the TV (though he grumbled at the unnecessary amount of cuteness), he finally looked over at you, his face softening just a little. “I… don’t like this. I feel useless like this.”

You smiled and brushed a strand of his hair out of his face. “You’re still Shin. You don’t have to be anything else.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, crawling onto your lap as he tucked himself in. “For being… difficult.”

You chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “Shin, you’re never difficult. Just a little… extra.”

He smiled lightly, resting his head against you. “Yeah, well… if Nagumo tries to make fun of me like this, I’m punching him when I grow up.”

You smiled down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I’ll remind him of that.”

Natsuki seba

You weren't prepared for the tiny person that knocked on your door.

You opened it to see a miniature Natsuki Seba standing there, holding a candy wrapper in one hand and looking entirely too smug for someone who was probably not even three feet tall. His usual dwrk hair was a bit messier, and his face had an almost too serious look.

“I ate the candy,” he announced, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “It said not to. I ate it anyway. Now I’m five.”

You blinked, looking him over in disbelief. “Natsuki?”

“Yep,” he replied, nodding, and then pushed past you into the apartment. “I figured if I didn’t eat it, you’d scold me for being a coward.”

You didn’t even know where to start. “You’re a child now. You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, not… this.”

“I am your boyfriend,” he said seriously, looking up at you like the fact should have been obvious. “But now, I’m small. And small people need juice and snacks. So I’m going to need some of that before we fix this.”

You rubbed your temples. “You're seriously just... fine with this?”

He shrugged and started rifling through your fridge. “I mean, what can I do? Now, I’m small and cute, but still superior.”

You found yourself smiling, unable to resist his confidence, despite the overwhelming ridiculousness of the situation. “I’m going to make you some lunch. No more candy for you.”

You managed to put together a sandwich, but Natsuki was on the move. “No way,” he insisted, already climbing up the kitchen counter to inspect your cabinet. “I don’t like that bread. Where’s the good stuff?”

You laughed despite yourself. "You’re five! You shouldn’t be so picky!"

“I’m five,” he repeated, “but I’m still Natsuki Seba.” He grabbed a snack bar and took a bite, satisfied. “Better.”

When you finally convinced him to take a break and sit down for a while, he crawled into your lap, eyes half-lidded in a mix of exhaustion and contentment. “You still like me, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said softly, stroking his hair.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because when I’m grown up again, I’m going to marry you.”

You smiled, a little choked up by the sweetness of it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

As he slowly drifted off in your arms, you marveled at the fact that even as a tiny child, Natsuki Seba still had the same intense presence. You might have been taking care of him today, but tomorrow, you knew, it’d be him taking care of you.

[obrashir]

the lotr trilogy are the best movies on earth but one thing i’ll never forgive them is the complete lack of aragorn and éomer friendship. i know i already made a post abt it but i honestly cannot believe these two talked One time in the movies while in the books they became literal besties. what do you mean they promised they’ll fight together, draw swords together, upon literally their first meeting, then repeated the same promise later again and again. what do you mean “Since the day when you rose before me out of the green grass of the downs I have loved you, and that love shall not fail.” what do you mean “And wherever King Elessar went with war King Éomer went with him; and beyond the Sea of Rhûn and on the far fields of the South the thunder of the cavalry of the Mark was heard, and the White Horse upon Green flew in many winds until Éomer grew old.” LIKE HELLO?????

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick odair steps through the door after a long day of fishing, and he’s welcomed by the sight of you curled up on the loveseat, reading calmly as you were clearly waiting for him to return. 

you look up the moment he enters, your eyes lighting up. “finn,” you call out excitedly, abandoning your book on the old coffee table to go straight to his arms. 

as soon as you reach your lover, he engulfs you in his arms and squeezes you tightly without hesitation. his warm, sweaty body relaxes under your touch with a quiet sigh, and his chin comes to rest comfortably on top of your head. 

“i missed you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled as he turns to press a  tender kiss to your hair. “wish you’d come with me to the port. everything feels brighter when you’re near.”

you suppress a small groan. you have never enjoyed spending hours under the scorching sun, just waiting for some fish to finally take finnick’s bait. still, a flutter of excitement always stirs in your chest at the thought of spending an entire day with him. just picturing the gentle way he patiently would explain to you how to use the bait, the playful teasing, and the almost childlike competition you'd inevitably have over who catches the bigger fish, is enough to make you look forward to it.

life is short and fragile, especially alongside finnick. you never know when some tribute might push too far, giving president snow the perfect excuse to retaliate against all the victors, including your finnick. the two of you share an unspoken understanding. that snow was probably just waiting for the right moment to get rid of him without sparking a riot in his name. if anything ever happened to him, what you'd remember about that day would be the way finnick smiled enormously with pride after catching a big fish, not the mosquito bites or the sunburnt skin.

“i’ll join you next time, i promise,” you say softly, with no traces of dishonesty. you can’t help but cup his cheeks, gently admiring his adorable, sun-kissed face. his cheeks squishing in your hands are pink from hours spent outside. he probably skipped sunscreen again. later, he'll no doubt ask you to soothe his skin with ointment. his nose, just as pink as his cheeks, looks like it's silently asking to be kissed by you. his freckles adorning his face make you want to forget everything else and spend the rest of your days pressing soft kisses on every single one of them.

but it is his eyes that draw you in more than anything else. he has trained himself to maintain a facade, hiding any true feelings, because even the slightest flicker of disgust in the capitol could land him in serious trouble. but here, at home, not just in district four, but in your arms, is where he feels safe enough to let his emotions show openly. so when you look straight into his eyes, you see the pure adoration and deep devotion he holds for you. the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and his pupils dilate makes you feel giddy, leaving you to wonder if you look just as enamored as he does right now. 

finally, you press a soft kiss to finnick’s lips for the first time since he walked through the door, and he melts in your hands. you don’t care about the strong smell of the fish he brought home, nor are you bothered by the sweatiness of his body. all you notice is the way his entire body relaxes, how his hands travel to your hips and pull you impossibly closer. his lips taste like comfort, like the peace you find in the ever-moving sea waves. his hand travels up and caresses your back soothingly, and it feels better than any sweet treat the capitol could ever offer. and his breath on your face leaves you dizzy in the best way.

when he finally pulls away, he lets out a quiet chuckle at the lovesick look on your face, teasing you playfully even though his own expression mirrors yours. “i love you,” he murmurs, his voice low. he then picks up the cooler he brought in and heads toward the kitchen, but not before you say it back. 

in the kitchen, you take charge of seasoning the fish while finnick gets the grill going. the conversation is endless, drifting from his complaints about being the tastiest meal for mosquitoes at the port to lighthearted bickering over what'd you name your imaginary family restaurant. that's when mags shows up for dinner like she always does, and finnick immediately ropes her into settling the debate. with a giggly smile, she disapproves of both names before pointing to the grill, where the fish are starting to burn. as the three of you sit down to devour the ones that didn't get burnt, you hum in satisfaction, savoring the precious moment as you quietly bury the unease growing in your chest about the approaching third quarter quell announcement.

[ladykailitha]

Shut Up and Drive Part 2

The response and love of the first chapter made me very happy.

In this chapter Eddie is just really going through it. I do love to torture our metalhead so.

Part 1

~

Monday came around again and Eddie looked to the winners again, seeing which kids were happy and which ones looked like they had lost a street race. It wasn’t foolproof he knew. Some of them were the best actors and he couldn’t get a read on them.

The one person who stuck out every time Eddie tried to spot his best customers on the weekend.

Steve Harrington.

He was always cheerful come Monday morning but as near as Eddie could tell, he didn’t participate in the races and he certainly didn’t know that his two former best friends were street racers who were lovers except those scant few hours a week when they were rivals.

Steve Harrington who had thrown off the shackles of popularity to haul middle schoolers around in that stupid maroon BMW of his. Whose driving made little old ladies look like reckless drivers in comparison.

But come Monday morning was the smuggest bastard on the planet. Like he won all the races, had sex with all the girls, and had done all the drugs with a shit ton of booze to chase it all down.

It drove Eddie absolutely feral.

He felt a smack on the back of his head and he turned to glare at the junior who had been his band’s rhythm guitarist since their middle school days. Jeff Lawrence. “Oi! What was that for?”

“Stop staring at Harrington,” Jeff growled. “People will start to think you’re crushing on him.”

“As if!” Eddie said with sneer. “I would never deign to lower myself to crushing on a jock.”

Jeff shoulder checked him and then turned around to get into his locker. “I didn’t say you were. I just said that’s what it’s going to look like to them. So unless you like paying for new tires or to set broken bones, keep your eyes to yourself, man.”

Eddie glowered at him, but conceded that his best friend had a point. He would have to figure out the enigma that was Steve Harrington at a later date. “I have a meeting with the school counselor today.”

Jeff turned to him and sighed. “Nooooo. You were doing so well. And it’s even earlier than last year, too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, opening his own locker and shoving books and papers into his bag indiscriminately.

“What are you going to tell Wayne?” Jeff asked, turning back to his locker.

“That his nephew is the biggest fuck up next to his own jail bird brother,” Eddie said ruefully, “and that I should just drop out.” He slammed his locker so hard it bounced back. He slammed it again and this time it took.

“Maybe they’ll let you try again,” Jeff said putting his hands Eddie’s shoulders. “Maybe it was meant to be that we’d graduate together. Okay?”

Eddie sighed and then looked over his shoulder at Steve. He turned back to Jeff. “Yeah, I won’t have certain distractions then, too.”

Jeff snorted and let go of him. “That’s one way to look at it, that’s for sure.” He patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Come on, we need to grab our table. Yesterday the cowboys were eyeing it for their growing numbers.”

“They’re like an invasive species or some shit,” Eddie groused. “There hasn’t been a decent western in years. I know, because Wayne keeps complaining.”

~

Eddie was walking through the halls, trying to at least not draw attention to himself. Ever since word spread he was repeating his senior year. Again. People had been mocking him, normally he get back into their faces with it, but the more credits he had at the end of the year, the less he would have to retake come September.

That, and he promised Wayne he wouldn’t get into anymore fights.

He kept his head down and a tight grip on his backpack, expecting the attack to come from behind. So he was a little surprised when someone ran straight into him.

“Oh shit!” the person cried. “I’m sorry!”

Eddie looked up into the warmest hazel eyes he’d ever seen and he stared dumbly at him for a moment.

“It’s my fault,” he murmured, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

And then he got the full picture of who he bumped into and moaned inwardly. Steve Harrington. He took back his thought about them being the warmest eyes ever.

“Still,” Steve said, cocking his head to side. “I should have been watching where I was going too. Are you okay? I hit you pretty hard.”

Eddie shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Steve laughed. “Well that wasn’t confusing as hell. Shaking your head and saying that you’re fine. I’m not the brightest bulb in the house but even I know it’s one or the other.”

“Shed,” Eddie bit out. “It’s brightest bulb in the shed.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “But I don’t have a shed. I have a house.”

Eddie bit back his frustration and shook his head. “Right well, things to see and people to do.” He shouldered past the deposed king and went his merry way. But as he walked away he could feeling Harrington’s eyes follow him down the hall.

~

Eddie needed to find that math worksheet that he was sure he had finished for Mr. Lee’s class. He knew it was somewhere in the cavernous maw that was his backpack. So there he was carefully laying out every piece of paper from his bag onto the lunch room table in semi-neat piles.

Then he came across a paper in handwriting that wasn’t his own.

He opened it slowly and read it. It was a date and time and an address.

He knew what it was of course. It was instructions on where he was supposed to be to sell drugs to the rich assholes. But was it a party or a race, he wasn’t sure.

It felt too soon for another race, though. They liked to try to not do them often enough that cops could figure out a pattern. Something ruffled a few feathers when newcomers joined one of the dragster teams. They thought they were above the law and that Joe Law could suck their dick or whatever.

They learned quickly that money meant little when their parents weren’t supposed to know they were racing.

The other more pressing burning question: how the hell did it end up in his backpack?

He shook his head and shoved it in his back pocket before someone saw him looking at it and took it from him.

“Eureka!” he cried, holding up the offending worksheet. Then his face fell. It was only half done. “Shit.”

He quickly shoved the rest of his papers back in his bag and pulled out a pencil, praying to Satan that he would at least be able to hand in something.

Brian sat down next to him and eyed his furious writing. “Please tell that’s not homework for your next class.”

“Of course not!” Eddie cried, affronted. “This is last period’s homework.”

“Eddie...” Brian said with a heavy sigh. “You keep doing that and you’ll end up staying club president for another year and Jeff was really looking forward to taking over for you next year.”

Eddie snorted and went back to scribbling his answered on his worksheet. The rest of the Hellfire Club filtered through and gathered around the table. They had a few newcomers this year, but Eddie didn’t think they’d stay the whole year and ended up surprising him.

Whether or not they chose to come back next year, probably depended on whether or not he graduated. And he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He just didn’t have the heart to tell them yet.

But he was trying.

“Hey,” Janice said, “what’s everyone’s plans for the weekend?”

Janice was a senior who had already been excepted at several colleges state wide and even a couple out of state. She had her pick of places and was taking her time deciding.

“My grandparents are visiting for Easter,” Gareth groused. “I’m not allowed to even look longingly at the front door all weekend.”

“I’ve got a date,” Jeff said proudly. “Leslie Edwards from second period.”

The table whooped and cheered him, slapping his back in congratulations.

“Yeah, well,” Brian said with a sneer, “with the holiday this weekend I’m betting a lot of us have parents that would pitch a fit if we even hinted doing something other spending it with family.”

Janice shrugged. “I’m Jewish, so I guess it’s Passing Over my house...” she winked. “Eh, eh...” The whole table remained silent. “Come on, guys that was funny. You guys just are no fun.”

Eddie just shook his head. “I’ll probably go cruising for a party or two. The water bill is higher this month due to that leak a couple weeks ago.”

The table grimaced. Not everyone knew he dealt drugs but they knew he sold cigarettes and booze to kids dumb enough to buy them to help his Uncle Wayne keep the lights on.

“Good luck, man,” one of the other kids said, “at least you don’t have your dad trying to blow every cent on booze and cards.”

Eddie pursed his lips and wisely said nothing. Because yeah, his dad was exactly like that. His dad just also happened to be in jail so that he was stymied at the moment.

Then the bell rang and he sighed. He looked at the almost finished page and shook his head. It was better than a zero, but he doubted it was much better.

He could tell you all about the stats of demogorgon verses a mind flayer and whether or not Cthulu could be considered one or not.

Decidedly not. Ancient horrors were far scarier than some basic mind flayer.

But he couldn’t tell an integer from a cosign and that was what these teachers wanted him to learn. But he just couldn’t get into his thick skull and some days it even made him want to cry. Today was certainly one of them.

He packed up his stuff and shuffled of to his next class, that note burning a hole in his back pocket.

~

Eddie walked through the door of his trailer and didn’t even bother calling out that he was home. It wouldn’t have done any good. Wayne’s truck hadn’t been out front and there were only the two of them.

He shed his clothes as he made his way to his room, so that by the time he had gotten to his room he was only wearing his jeans. He flopped face first onto his bed.

He wasn’t even sure why he kept trying. They were making him repeat his senior year. Again. So why put any effort into his classes anyway?

He rolled over on his back and sighed. Because of Wayne of course. He knew that if got enough passing grades it would be easier to graduate next year. So for Uncle Wayne he kept trying to get it right.

Eddie frown and wiggled a moment. Was there something in his pocket? He reached back and pulled out his handkerchief and out with fluttered a single white paper.

Oh, yeah!

The party invite. He had long decided it wasn’t a race when he over heard Nicole and Tina talking about some big party one or the other was giving that weekend and considering that Tina was a Pink Lady, he was pretty sure she would have been whining about be ‘busy’.

So who had put the note in his backpack?

“Sonofbitch!” Eddie shrieked as he suddenly jackknifed off the bed in rage. “Harrington!”

That cute little ‘I should have been watching where I was going, too’ had been a bold-faced lie! He had deliberately bumped into Eddie to make sure he knew about the party that weekend.

Halfway through a very impassioned rant about rich assholes, he stopped short and blinked for a moment.

Wait, how did Harrington know? They didn’t run in the same circles anymore.

Because there was no doubt Harrington had given him the address but why?

His brain was tripping over that question over and over. Why would Harrington know or care enough to let him know that there was a party this weekend to sell his favors?

Curiouser and curiouser.

Steve Harrington was riddle that Eddie was getting farther and farther away from solving.

~

Part 3 Part 4

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @oopsallgender @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @1tsra1n1ngbutterfl1es @a-couchpotato @ollieolive @micheledawn1975

[woso-story]

Sleepover

Alexia Putellas x Mila x Esmee Brugts x Kika Nazareth

Mila sat on the couch, legs swinging as she hugged her plush lion close. Her big green eyes sparkled with excitement as her mothers finished getting ready for their long-awaited date night.

"You'll have so much fun at Alexia's, carino," Mapi assured, crouching to tuck a stray curl behind Mila’s ear.

Mila pouted. "I wanted to go to Tia Caroline," she mumbled, her arms crossing dramatically.

Ingrid chuckled, ruffling her daughter's hair. "Tia Caroline is busy tonight, but you get to have a sleepover with Esmee and Kika too."

At that, Mila’s face lit up. "Really?!"

"Yes," Mapi smirked, exchanging a look with Ingrid. "But you have to behave."

Mila nodded vigorously. Well, as much as a four-year-old could promise such a thing.

---

A short drive later, they arrived at Alexia’s house. Mapi rang the doorbell, and they barely had time to register the noises coming from inside before the door flung open.

"KIKA!" A blur of excitement rushed toward them as Kika greeted them, practically bouncing in place. Behind her, Esmee grinned before both of them swooped down and grabbed Mila.

"Hi, hi, hi!" Mila giggled as her two ‘aunties’ lifted her and ran inside.

"Mila, behave!" Ingrid called after her, but the moment had already passed.

Mapi chuckled, watching Alexia step into the doorway, already looking overwhelmed. "Good luck," she teased.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Alexia deadpanned before shaking her head. "I love having Mila over, though she’s probably better behaved than the other two."

As if on cue, a loud crash echoed from inside.

"Everything is fine!" Esmee called, her voice suspiciously cheerful.

Alexia groaned, rubbing her temples. "You two should go before they destroy my house."

Ingrid stifled a laugh, thanking Alexia once more before she and Mapi left for their dinner, while Alexia braced herself for a very long night.

---

It didn’t take long before things got out of control.

Alexia walked into the kitchen only to find Mila sitting on the counter, happily munching on snacks that were meant for later.

"Mila…" Alexia sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Those were for movie night."

Mila pouted, her lower lip jutting out.

"Don't give me that look," Alexia said, already losing the battle. "Fine, just… go play in the living room. But no running!"

Esmee grabbed Mila’s hand. "Come on, let’s go!"

The three girls disappeared, leaving Alexia exhaling deeply. "Why did I agree to this?"

She ordered pizza and went to check on them, only to find… nothing. No sign of them.

"Girls?" she called out. Silence.

She checked the bathroom. Empty.

Then, a rustling noise.

She turned toward the closet. Slowly opening the door, she found Mila sitting inside, eyes wide.

Alexia sighed. "Mila, what are you—"

"I found her!" Kika suddenly shrieked behind her.

Mila huffed. "You ruined my hiding spot, Ale!"

Before Alexia could respond, Mila tagged Esmee and bolted, the game instantly turning into a high-energy chase around the house. They leaped over the couch, dodged furniture, and at one point, Esmee stumbled into the bookshelf, sending books crashing to the floor.

Alexia massaged her temples. "I’m never babysitting again."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Finally. Pizza.

She barely got the food to the kitchen before the girls swarmed in, each loudly debating their pizza choices. Once everyone settled with their slices, they finally calmed down, curling up on the couch for a Disney movie.

Alexia sighed in relief. "Finally, peace."

Little did she know, the night was far from over.

---

One movie turned into two, and at some point, Alexia dozed off. Big mistake.

Mila, eyes twinkling with mischief, reached into her bag and pulled out colorful pens. She turned to Esmee and Kika. "Help me!"

Snickering, they joined in, drawing on Alexia’s face as she slept. Swirls, hearts, mustaches—Mila giggled as she proudly admired their masterpiece.

Satisfied, she turned to Esmee and Kika, both dozing off too. Mila smirked. Time for more fun.

She crept upstairs, looking for something exciting. In Alexia’s bedroom, she found a walk-in closet—boring. Then, she spotted the bedside table.

At home, she wasn’t allowed to open drawers in her parents' room. But Alexia never told her not to.

Opening the first one, she frowned. Weird-looking things she didn’t understand. Not interesting.

The second drawer, however… handcuffs!

Her eyes sparkled. She had seen these in movies—bad people got them! A perfect prank formed in her little head.

Giggling, she tiptoed back downstairs and carefully clasped one cuff around Esmee’s wrist and the other around Kika’s. She giggled again. This was the best idea ever!

After brushing her teeth (because her mama always told her to), she snuggled into the guest bed with her plush lion, falling asleep almost immediately.

---

Alexia woke up groggy, blinking at the ceiling. Something felt… off. She sat up, rubbing her face—then froze.

Why did her hand feel… painted?

Then, groans from the couch.

Esmee and Kika stirred, glancing at each other. Confusion turned to shock.

"Why are we—WHAT?!" Kika yanked her wrist, realizing she was handcuffed to Esmee.

"What the hell?!" Esmee tugged back.

Alexia groaned. "No way…"

Just then, Mila trotted down the stairs, all smiles. "Good morning!" she chirped sweetly, completely innocent.

Alexia pointed at her. "You. What did you do?!"

Mila just giggled. "I pranked you!"

Esmee and Kika groaned, still struggling with the handcuffs, while Alexia dragged a hand down her face, realizing she needed to hide certain items better.

---

Later that day, Alexia brought Mila home.

Ingrid opened the door, and before she could even say anything, Mila burst inside. "Mama! I had the best night ever!"

Mapi, hearing this, came over. "Did you now?"

Mila nodded excitedly, running to tell Mapi everything.

Meanwhile, Ingrid took one look at Alexia’s exhausted face and raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Alexia sighed, stepping inside. "Your daughter handcuffed Esmee and Kika together."

Mapi burst out laughing. "That's my girl!"

Alexia groaned. "Yeah, well, no more sleepovers with all three of them together." Then she added, “And I’m putting certain things out of reach from now on.”

Ingrid chuckled, patting Alexia’s back. "At least you survived."

"Barely," Alexia muttered.

But as chaotic as it was, she couldn’t be mad. After all, she adored Mila. Even if she was an absolute menace.

[notartisticdraw]

wait, if ur not blodthegreatrouge, how come u do pjs daycare stuff when it also had a lot of the controversy on it?

A few reasons, but I can promise you, I am 100% not rouge lmao. I think she's in her early 30s, where I'm currently 19. If you trace my blog through my archive, you can see when I joined years after her initial popularity and how godawful my art was in attempting to replicate her style (since I was even heavily influenced as a child). It's also uncomfortable seeing how much of a pro-rouge advocate I was, but I was 12/13 when I joined Tumblr and began drawing Undertale fanart. This was also far before everyone started calling her out in 2021, when I had mostly forgotten about what happened in her AUs

As a child, I was obsessed with the AU and the characters. They made up an important part of my preteen years, as did several other major Undertale comics (Geno's Christmas Party, Handplates, Aftertale, etc.) despite all of the weird/uncomfortable plots rouge shoved into it. I just knew the majority of it made me happy, y'know?

Anyway, my continuation AU of PJ's Daycare (PJ's Daycare 10 Years Later) does not promote the original material but rather tweaks and continues the story in a way I presume most original fans want it depicted---meaning back to its roots of what it is: a Daycare attended by several of the most popular Sanses as children, and popular shipchildren raising them

I wanted to bring back the old whimsical feeling into it and mold the original material into something better and newer. This includes shifting several parts of the original story like, idk, not having kinder!Fresh's love interest be an actual adult, reworking (or entirely removing) the awful Geno suicide depiction, booting proships out of the AU, reworking the love triangle between Palette, Goth, and Cray since they're all 12 - 13, and a lot of interactions made me really uncomfortable (almost sexual undertones AND THEY'RE CHILDREN), etc.

I get many comments on posts describing it as the fandom reclaiming the media from a bad person and fixing it up, and honestly, this is the only AU I could attempt to fix from Rouge. All her other AUs are far too gone, whereas PJ's Daycare had mistakes but was nowhere near as insane as her other stuff (NaJ, for instance)

Again, my content does not promote Rouge or anything she's done. She's awful and shouldn't be allowed online after the mess she's caused and doesn't care cleaning up. I'm just fixing a childhood favorite comic for myself and the community

urgggg sorry for rambling. its like 7:30 am and I sorta didn't sleep at all so my cranium ain't working 100%. hope this sorta explains things tho

[kalied0skull]

Fuck, Winston, why do you gotta be so poisonous to be around?

now playing : Sink To The Bottom — Fountains of Wayne ♪

★ ramble under the cut !

"where have you been all week arcade? you've barely been posting anything other than rambles!"

that's a good question, i say to the little sock puppet asking me the question. to which i reply:

"being brainrotted by these two fucks."

YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING? this drawing. and then rambling. and then writing. WRITING. I'VE BEEN WRITING. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW RARE IT IS TO GET THAT OUT OF ME?

yeah, these two make me insane. do i see anything in jally in canon? no, not whatsoever, not really. those guys are homies not lovers. THE AU JALLY THOUGH? sigh. SIGGHHHHH. ☹️

there's a lot of symbolism notes you can make to this drawing honestly, from the way dallas is merely a silhouette and doesn't get personified, to the way he speaks in whisps of smoke, to the way johnny refuses to acknowledge him, to the fact dallas overlaps johnny despite being more of a shadow than a sticker. he's the one who should be behind johnny, right? but johnny follows his own shadow.

i could go on and on and ON about how i interpret my own piece, but honestly it's not as entertaining to you the reader as it is to me I'm sure 😭

it is SO fun to get back into using old color palettes though! back in 2023, i was a way big neon-color fanatic and it is PROMINENT in my old art so heavily. so going back to using an old color palette was SO much fun to experiment with (although it was ... troublesome, admittedly. but it always is tbh. kinda why i stopped using it LMAO)

my hand is in so much pain rn after working on this for 2 hours straight BUT !!! I'll probably add onto this later, who knows. maybe I'm content with a short ramble. either way though, this piece completely stole my attention to literally anything else and i PROMISE I'll start existing again now that I'm done with it hehehe :3c

OH YEAH, THIS QUOTE? i stole it off of pinterest. do NOT hold me as the owner of it, because i DO NOT KNOW who wrote it first but it perfectly fit dallas so hard i made a whole drawing for it, so... giggling.

STARS, i love them so bad. they're so terrible for each other.

[writingwisterias]

pls do leon's reactions to his partner aknowledging about Sherry, since i saw you already done with Ada, like what if someday he get question of "Babe, who is Sherry Birkin..?" and would he introduce them tgt ??😳

Hii! This is so cute because I always liked the idea of the two of them staying somewhat close. Or at least him keeping tabs on her throughout his time working for the government. Whenever they knew it or not

Warnings: Drinking, Light jealousy

Gn!Reader

RE2:

If we do it with post Re2, I'm thinking like after the 2 years of training they subject him to it would be interesting

I like to think Sherry would have sent him letters, so I imagine he would have kept them

You stumble across the box when decluttering the wardrobe, with his return from training you need a bit more room in there for his stuff

You can tell by the handwriting that it's a child but as far you know Leon doesn't have a kid

When you ask him about Sherry he would be slightly touchy after all the deal he made with government that's now made him into a hardened soldier is still dominate in his mind.

He'll explain it to you, he's already spoken about the events of raccoon City just not what happened afterwards

You'll offer her a place here if that's something you wanted. Maybe hoping that the shared trauma could be good for him and her

Allowing them both to have a sense of normalcy in their lives

But even you aren't that naive to know that can't happen

RE4R:

I think at this stage he would want to forget about raccoon City

It's only after Spain that all of the feelings sort of resurface

He sort of closes himself away and you find him looking at the old rpd badge he managed to keep and a simple drawing of him and two women

You know his past is complicated which is why you don't bring it up

It surprises you that he does.

He explains the situation and night he went through. Finding peace in having an outlet he can trust to air out everything

You aren't jealous of her existence, in fact its sort of sweet seeing this really delicate side of him

Infinite Darkness:

It's sort of the same really with RE4R

You wouldn't know about her existence unless he wanted you too

I imagine it would be one of those late night chats where he sort of tells you more about his past in the comfort of the darkness and embrace you shared

The way he talks about her makes you happy, that even in the darkness of his life there was at least something good to come out of it

Again maybe in the morning he would share the letters he received from her

And with your help he might write back finally

Damnation:

He's pissed off

I imagine this is where he heard about her becoming an agent

So you find out about her and what she meant to him through a drunken rant about how he was basically used

And despite their promise of her protection they steered her into the job he didn't want her to do

He had no say in her upbringing and that's what irritated him most

It's sweet seeing his passion for her life and the regrets of not trying harder to be there for her

It would fuel his downward spiral towards hating what he's doing

After all the reason he agreed to work for them was to protect her

RE6:

You and Leon were both still trying to function after the crash, checking over your bodies to ensure neither of you were severely injured.

His head shot up with the call of his name, his body automatically moving to stand in front of you.

That should have been your first sign that there was nothing to be jealous about but no, your tired and stressed out brain instead focused on his relaxed tone

it was almost caring...of course it was

It wasn't until after the fight that you brought it up, wanting to know the history

Guilt settled in fast after his explanation, instead steering your thoughts to the mission

A few weeks later you actually set up a plan for him and her to meet, finally catching up after all those years.

Seeing him smile just a little bit was enough for you

Vendetta:

He was already fragile as it is, you didn't mean to make him spiral more

It wasn't your fault that he kept that side of his life away from you.

You appreciate the support group that actually existed around him whenever he chose to acknowledge it or not

It was large enough for him, but there was always a text from one name you weren't familiar with

You knew you shouldn't have bought it up but you did

He wasn't shouting or pissed at you...almost...sad

The name linked back to the one night he'll never recover from. A little girl now groan

The same one trying to help him instead of him helping her

It was guilt. You could understand why but it still made your heart hurt anyway

Death Island:

He mentioned her a few times, it was never anything that you should be concerned about

In fact when you met her; he smiled at how fast you both hit it off

Finally creating something that he thought felt similar to a family.

She would begin to come around a lot more to see you both, staying in the spare room in your house.

It was sweet them finally building a bond and heal each other with the love they deserved

With Claire being present in his life again it almost felt like a fated family that he's grown to truly love and will himself to protect

With you and Sherry at the centre of it.

[shattered-matrix]

Prologue

Soulmate Pirate AU | Hongjoong x Reader

Themes: soulmate marks, cursed ships, ocean magic, emotional tension, old gods, yearning, pirate crew shenanigans, mapmaker heroine who does not swoon on command

1.1k words

Taglist: open

You were four the first time you slipped past your nanny’s watchful gaze.

You didn’t leave the estate—not really. Just clambered down the steep embankment to the beach, hands and knees scratched and scuffed, dress torn on bramble and rock. You ran for the sea, wild and unsteady. The sand ate at your steps, soft and slow and sucking at your ankles.

You hardly cared.

The water stretched wide before you—open, endless, promising something far better than stuffy shoes and itchy stockings.

You made it into the surf, laughing as the cold froth soaked through fabric and leather. It felt good, like a splash of freedom on a too-hot summer day.

And you could’ve sworn… you heard a voice in the waves.

“Come, come, come, come.”

Then your nanny’s shriek cut through the wind, and strong arms pulled you back from the tide. You struggled as she scolded you, her words unheard as she dragged you from the beach. The voices faded with the sound of the lapping waves.

The cage followed soon after, high walls and locked doors meant to keep small wandering feet from straying too far. The windows, too, were kept sealed after an attempt to scurry down the creeping vines lining the manor’s walls. When they tried to shutter them, you screamed and wailed until they left them open, just to appease you. You could no longer hear the sea, but you could see it.

It wasn’t enough.

You were seven the first time they made you wear corset stays.

The tailor pricked you six times and clucked every time you flinched. The fabric was brocade—gilded, itchy, stiff enough to stand on its own. You were told it was proper. You were told it would train your posture, your discipline, your beauty.

All you could think was that it made breathing feel like drowning on dry land. And when the maid pulled the ties and enclosed it around you, you were reminded of the death cages you had seen during your last visit to the city.

Later that day, you stole a pair of trousers from the stable boy, climbed a tree by the cliffs, and refused to come down until nightfall. Your minders and the manor guards circled the tree for hours, trying and failing to fetch you down. Time and again they were foiled, unable to reach the heights your smaller form had retreated to.

When your father demanded an apology, you gave him silence.

It wasn’t the first time he hit you—a slap that left a fleeting mark. It wouldn’t be the last.

When you were eleven, your family hosted a visiting scholar. She was there a week—just a week. Her face was wrinkled like old leather and her hands seemed as though they should creak when they moved. She wore a fine dress—without a corset, you noted. She smelled like old books and oranges and showed you how to draw maps by the stars.

You took to it instantly.

The sea had always spoken to you. Now, you were learning to answer back.

You were so often kept from the beach, but not when she insisted she take you to show you the stars over the sea. They catered to her, and she used that favor to give you a bit of freedom.

At night, as she would map the heavens, you’d press your palm into the wet sand and whisper, “Where should I go?”

The tide would rise around your fingers.

You never told anyone.

You were fifteen when they took you to court for the first time—a debutant, they called you.

You were beautiful. Of course you were. They made sure of it.

Your gown shimmered like sunlit foam. Your hair was a masterpiece of curls and lacquer. You smiled just right. You danced just enough. You said nothing of worth. That was the point. You still felt the sting of your father’s hand, fresh enough to serve as a reminder.

One lord asked if you played music. Another if you could embroider. A third asked if your mother had chosen a dowry yet.

Not one asked what you wanted. Nor what you enjoyed. A pretty, delicate flower—admired, but not seen.

You excused yourself during the fifth dance and slipped onto a balcony where the wind smelled of salt. The ocean was miles away, but you could feel it watching.

You whispered, “I hate this.”

And something in the dark whispered back, “Then leave.”

You were eighteen when you heeded that whisper. Three years spent honing your star-reading. They dismissed it as a hobby not quite uncouth enough to garner ire. At least it kept you out of the trees. They didn’t know how the stars whispered of direction. Nor did they know you had learned how to listen to their voices.

You left in the middle of the night.

Not with a dramatic farewell or a tearful letter.

You packed what you could carry, stole a coin pouch from your father’s study, and left through the servant’s gate in a cloak too big for your shoulders.

They would say you were kidnapped. Or disgraced. Or bewitched.

Let them.

You had the stars overhead, salt in your lungs, and sand beneath your boots by dawn. You didn’t know where you were going yet. Only that the sea had called you.

And this time, you answered.

It’s been more than a year since you put your family’s manor behind you with no intention ofreturning. Months since you came to a place called Stormwind, where the sea is a source of life and fear and respect. You live in a room above a cartographer’s shop on the edge of the docks.

The bed is hard. The ceiling leaks when it rains. But the window looks out on the sea, and theair smells like salt and possibility.

You’ve spent the last year learning the shape of wind across canvas sails, the names of passing ships, the way dockhands speak when they’re lying. You chart maps in exchange for coin—some drawn by request, others sold quietly to captains who seek new routes to forgotten places, and some even drawn on cured sealskins from the north and slipped into the hands of creatures with fins rather than legs, who pay you in lost and secrets.

Your hands are calloused from work. Your clothes are plain. Not a thread of embroidery to befound.

And you are free.

Not as the bards sing it—not wild and endless and weightless—but grounded in a life that is earned and real.

No one stops you from listening to the way the sea calls. No one stops you from replying. The wise ones only warn you of its capricious fury.

It’s dark when you finally snuff your lantern, your hands stained with ink and a new chart left drying on the worktable. The quiet is strange, disarming. And it’s only as you settle beneath your blanket that you realize—

The sea does not whisper tonight.

It holds its breath, waiting.

For what, you do not know.

[dessertpanda]

A Happy Family

Warning: Death, graphic, spoiler, sad ( part of my OC) Mention of Sex as well, language, slight yander, children, mention of suisisde... Just really sad

Master List pt2

Ace x Thick Fem reader…

Y/N sat on the edge of the boat slowly drifting in and out of reality…

"Ace I love you," Y/N giggled happily, holding her boyfriend's hand tightly as they walked around the dark deck of the Mobey dick.

" Y/N, I love you too but Pops would kill me if he knew we were dating," Ace said looking down. [ Y/N Newgate Blood daughter of Edward Newgate - Whitebeard, Y/N has a devil fruit inspired by Xibalba and La Mureta. She uses dead bodies as Puppets… often as La Mureta to show her appreciation for them allowing her strength… Xibalba.. was a far darker force. She also might be one of the physically strongest on the ship, she is 19 years old and is a little thicker than most girls both in muscle and chub. She loves to fight and eat]

" When are you going to tell him," she whined turning towards Ace, pinning him to the railing. With a soft gasp, her sudden boldness caught him by surprise.

" L-later, I promise," he said blushing from the closeness as he slowly leaned into the girl, glancing at her lips before successfully capturing them. Lost in their own little world, they failed to notice the blue phoenix that flew through the air on watch.

Marco POV " and then they kissed," Marco said as the other commanders looked at him, following along with his heavily detailed story about what he had just witnessed the night before. Sitting around the table enjoying their breakfast

" No way, Pops is gonna kill him," Thatch said laughing.

" No kidding," Izo said also joining in.

" Do you think they did it?" Vista asked with a big smile.

" Did what?" Jozu asked taking a bite of bread.

" You mean the Nasty?!!" Marco gasped at the idea. Not particularly fawn at thinking about his adopted brother and sister in such a light. 'surly Ace was not that stupid'

" I did see Y/N walking funny earlier," Izo said with a wide smile. The others cackled at his implication.

"Let's go see," Thatch said standing up and walking towards Y/N's room.

" I don't know," Marco said hesitantly. What if they were doing it? What if Pops found out they were peaking on his daughter?

" Ace stop" A small whine was heard through the door, followed by the softest moan.

"Aww come on you know you love it" Ace's voice was deep and Husky. You could practically hear the sex off it.

" ARE THEY ACTUALLY" Izo whispered\yelled. Marco and Vista quickly smacked him upside the head to shut him up.

" Ace's noooo your hands are c-cold" They could hear the springs of the mattress shifting. "ah Ace yes~"

" That's it I'm leaving," Marco whispered as he started to walk away with the other commander not far behind him.

(Normal)

Ace ran his hands up Y/N's bare legs towards her stomach and to her chest. "See? I warmed them up for you, " he chuckled mischievously, lowering his head to lay gentle kisses up her bare neck. "Mmm. Princess," He gently inhaled, taking in her soft smell. As he shifted, pulling her closer again… both jumped at the booming voice of Whitebeard.

" Y/N Sweetie, come and have a drink with me"

" Shit" Ace whispered as he quickly moved to dress the two. Reaching for his shorts, throwing her shirt and jeans at her, to top it off he gently set his hat upon her lamp with her headband tied around it.

" Ah Ace, you're in here too perfect," WhiteBeard said as he opened the door, smiling at the sight of the two people he had been hunting for in the same spot.

" Papa! Sorry, Ace was asking about a battle formation," Y/N said pulling a paper with multiple drawings of stick figures all over it. " See," she said handing him the paper. Now each of them sat on different sides of the bed, acting as if it was a table. The large man smirked and glanced between the two.

" GAHHAHA" He laughed. Holding up the paper with a proud look on his face " This is why you are our stagiest," He said as he ducked under the door and strolled out " COME OUT WHEN YOU'RE DONE," Ace was flabbergasted as to where exactly she had pulled that out of…

" Where the hell did you pull that out of!?" Ace asked slowly getting up off the bed, gently picking up his hat, and handing the headband to her.

" I'm always prepared," Sticking her tongue out before running out of the room in her black jeans, sleeveless turtle-neck, and her signature headband securely tied around her head. Ace could only chuckle, watching as she dashed out leaving him to gather himself complete. He sat for a moment, staring at the floor… contemplating when the best time to confess to pops about what he's been doing.

" So Acey Boys fucking the princess?" Ace's head shot up only to meet with the eyes of a phoenix. His eyes widened ever so slightly, realizing he was so lost in thought he failed to hear the footsteps of Marco.

" Marco, w-what do you mean"

" We heard last night, all of it" This time it was Izo. Ace shifted his gaze to the new man.

"I-I"

" Remember boy you're just a guard and she'll be the queen," Vista said leaning against the door.

" I don't know what-" Ace started to protest but was cut off.

" Ace, Remember Not all stories end happily," Thatch said putting a hand on his shoulder.

" W-what are you talking about" Fed up with their constant interruptions, he clenched his fist, trying to understand why they were there.

" POPS IS GONNA KILL YOU" They all busted out laughing. Ace took a gulp of air and began to sweat. Realizing exactly why… he had been figured out… and he was so fucked…

Time Skip- 2 months

As the months moved, Y/n had been noticing soft changes in her body. She had gained weight, not nearly as much energy… and a strange sensation. So… she found Ace… and Marco… and an hour later… she found a positive pregnancy test.

(3 months later)

"Y/N my dear, why aren't you drinking?" Her father asked handing her a mug. She had been able to hide the facts so easily, having just come off a long mission not too long ago… but her bump was quite prominent, and coming up with excuses to not drink… was becoming harder.

" Sorry, Papa I'm not in the mood," she said gently setting her hand on her stomach. Subconsciously rubbing it in gentle circles to comfort herself. Now Newgate was a smart man so he knew something was off. He's had a feeling for a while now.

"Y/N, is there something you're not telling me? You love to drink" He asked looking down at the girl who was wearing a much baggier sweater than usual and hunched slightly over her midsection.

" Yes papa," she whispered. Growing tired of hiding… especially from her father.

" Would you like to talk about it?" He asked as he picked her up and set her on the arm of his chair. Removing the mug he had handed her, setting it off to the side and out of the way.

" I-I'm pregnant" She whispered. Not having the complete confidence to tell him… still unsure of his reaction.

" W-what was that?" He asked, he had heard her the first time… but just to allow the news to completely settle in.

" I'm Pregnant," she said louder, eyes closed tightly, lifting her shirt to reveal the small bump that had begun to show. It was barely noticeable through her natural chub… but if you knew Y/n… you could tell. Oh, and he could certainly tell. Staring at her for a moment. Eyes wide and mouth slightly a jar.

" Y-Y/n, I'M gonna be a GRANDPA?" he questioned a bright smile overtaking his face. Throwing his head back and cackling in laughter, practically shaking the ship. Staring up at the sky for a moment before refocusing on her, now a much softer and loving smile present.

" Yes Papa," she said smiling up at her father. He was so excited, I mean… a baby on a pirate ship… talk about unheard of.

" W-Wait before I get ahead of myself, who's is it?" She stiffened slightly. Knowing Ace had yet to tell him…Her silence concerned him… fearful that the child's real father would be absent… " Princess please tell me it's not some random man?" she quickly shook her head, slightly offended by his assumption.

" NO! No of course not Papa, It's one of the commanders," she said covering her face. Knowing she had just redirected the responsibility onto Ace… as well as the others who knew of her pregnancy.

" COMMANDERS" his voice boomed throughout the whole ship. Catching the attention of all, even Thatch who was tucked away in the kitchen… with a gut feeling telling him to hide.

" Yes Pops," they asked as they were all suddenly lined up in front of him. Some are sweating, others smirking… Ace in particular was sweating… Now don't question it. He was so excited… to think… someone like him could have so much… be given a girlfriend… now a child. No matter what happened right now… he was going to take full responsibility for her… his gift… his baby.

" My sweet daughter here has just informed me that she is holding one of your offspring.. so which one is it?" They all looked at each other. Studying their reactions and movements… trying to catch the culprit before he came out himself.

" IT'S ACE'S" "IT'S MINE" Slightly taken back by the number of voices, the others looked at each other. The answer having been lost in the shouts. "MINE! IT'S MINE" Ace quickly spoke again, raising his hand high, a proud smile on his face. He was so happy to finally say that out loud… even though Pops offered him a death glare in return. "I… We've been dating for a year now…" He smiled softly, turning his down to the ground to avoid the stare.

" Is he the farther Y/N?" He asked looking back to his daughter.

" Yes Papa," she said smiling. Glad to know that Ace was so proud of them… their relationship

" GAHAAGAGAHAGAHA" Pops laughed. " THEN WE SHOULD CELEBRATE" he yelled. " Ace my boy," he said looking down at him and lifting his drink in a toasting matter " Take care of her, She has some dangerous blood running through her and that child as well," he said handing Ace a Drink. "hehe now adding you into the bunch," Ace only nodded softly, a silent promise that he had already made long ago.

"Right"

Time Skip to Alabasta. (about a year later… maybe more)

Ace POV " This is my brother Ace." Luffy was parading Ace around like a trophy. "He's so strong, but I can beat him," he said with a large smile. Slinging his arm over Ace's shoulder, dragging him closer.

"As if." Shoving his head down. " I would like to apologize for causing any trouble", Ace bowed and apologized for anything that his brother had done while adventuring.

" Are you two really related" Nami asked, glancing between the two, seeing the resemblance but not quite convinced.

" Yep, well kinda," Tired from the journey Ace really didn't feel like explaining the whole Sake tradition. "You see-" he was quickly interrupted by the swordsman, his voice carrying from the crow's nest of the small ship.

" HEADS UP THERE'S A BOAT COMING THIS WAY!" Running over to the side to see who it was, Ace smiled at the sight. There riding in the Striker was his beautiful wife carrying his tinny 1-year-old son.

" It's ok I know her," She carefully pulled up close to the Going Marry, waving softly at Ace and the others. Quickly jumping from the boat Ace swiftly moved to help her. " Hi babe and baby," He said kissing the tops of both their heads.

" Dada!" Sabo giggled making grabby hands. He was quite good at speaking… Pops claimed it was because he technically had a bit of giant in him, much like Y/n did. Saying something like they develop faster or something.

" Hello, little man!" Ace smiled, gently taking him from Y/N's arms. "here let me," Picking her up as well before jumping back onto his brother's ship.

" You know I can fly right?" She asked with a raised brow but wrapped her arms around his neck regardless.

" I know but I still love carrying you" Landing back on the ship, the others stared to crowd the small family. Luffy specifically was infatuated with the woman and the little boy.

" Ace, Who is she?" Luffy asked running up to her, lapping around her. A slightly confused look on her face.

" Hello, I'm Portgas D Y/n!" She said holding her hand out. Smiling softly, Ace's description matched the boy perfectly.

" ACE YOU HAVE A SISTER!?" Luffy yelled. Not quite understanding the situation, causing Y/n and the others to chuckle.

" No, No, Luffy this is my Wife," Ace slightly facepalmed, but chuckled nonetheless.

" So she's like my sister now?" He asked looking her up and down lingering in places his eyes shouldn't, subconsciously of course! He had never seen a woman… be thick… yet so pretty. Alvida was ugly…until she turned skinny… Nami was skinny… Vivi… but she had a charm to her… a soft charm. One that even had Zoro doing a double take.

" Yep! And keep your grimy eyes off," Ace growled softly, shoving the younger boy's head sideways, tearing his gaze from Y/n.

" So you must be Luffy?" Ace watched as Y/N walked toward him. " It's nice to finally meet you" Pulling him into a huge hug which he gladly returned. " It's nice to meet all of you" Letting go and bowing to the others, Y/n couldn't hide the smile that graced her lips.

" Hello!" they all said, bowing back.

" I thought WhiteBeard had no females on his crew?" Zoro questioned, skeptically looking her up and down. He recognized her from her wanted poster… but always believed it was a typo.

" Yep! But I'm an exception," With a proud smile she pointed to her chest "See I'm his blood daughter!" The others, taken slightly aback by the news… Ussop and Chopper shaking softly at the news.

" Glade they're on our side," Ussop said under his breath. Hugging Chopper who also sighed in relief.

" And who's this little guy?" Nami asked while bending down to the small boy's level, a gentle smile on her lips.

" Ah! Sabo say hello," Y/N said pushing him forward. He was shy… always had been, but he was still brave in a strange aspect.

" H-hii" He stuttered before quickly waddling behind Y/N's legs to hide.

" Is he yours?" Sanji asked, chuckling softly at the boy's actions.

" Yep all mine," Ace smiled… enjoying his family all together for the first time. I watched as Y/N picked Sabo up and walked towards Luffy.

" This is your Uncle," She shifted Sabo allowing him to look at Luffy directly.

" Uncle!" Sabo giggled, reaching for the rubber man… "Love… you!" He hesitated, making sure he had the right words.

" Sabo huh?" Luffy allowed a sad smile to form… looking closely you could see the small tears forming. "I love ya too kid…" He chuckled, removing his straw hat before gently placing it on the boy's head. A near silent promise… that no matter what… he would protect him.

Another time Skip to War of Best.

Ace's POV (Don't usually do character perspective…. but for this just seemed necessary)

"So you really have a kid?" Jinbe asked. Adjusting his chains to what seemed a more comfortable position.

" Yeah and a beautiful wife, and so much more" I couldn't help but tear up. Thinking about her… Sabo… the life we could've had… If only I could have controlled myself. Listened to them, Pops, Maroc… Y/n… every damn second I can hear her pleading voice 'Ace… please… I know… I know but We need you! I need you! SABO NEEDS YOU' She sobbed that night… not even able to look me in the eyes as I dropped her off on that Island. I couldn't help it, I couldn't put her in that kind of danger… not her… not him. But yet, here I was in prison and I was about to leave my Wife all alone with my son permanently… And the last thing I told her was 'You don't understand'… Talk about an idiot. " I'm just happy she's ok," I said tears now streaming down my face.

I sat there softly crying, Jinbe only offering comforting words and a figurative shoulder to cry on… but then I heard footsteps… Heavy footsteps… assertive ones. Looking up… there he stood…Grandpa.

" Ace, I tried to help you," He spoke taking a seat. Glancing up at me and scoffing at my tears " M-man up and quit your crying," He said. The softest break in his voice caused him to stutter.

" Shut up old man, I-I" I couldn't finish my sentence, I took a breath, figuring it was useless to argue… settling on putting in my last request now. "Hey old man," I said softly, meeting his bloodshot eyes.

" What Brat?"

"There's a beautiful Woman out there who's most likely going to show up at some point please keep her safe," I said looking at him with pleading eyes. Watching as he sighed, moving his hand to rub his eyes.

" Is she a pirate?"

" Yes, but she's the mother to my child," God that hurt to say… to talk as if I'd never see her again. I couldn't stop them so I simply let the tears slide down my face. I wasn't scared to die no not at all… in fact ever since I was little… I believed I deserved it but… now I was scared to leave her and scared of what would happen to her. Then there's my son… god the minute they find him he would be killed… Slaughted on the spot for merely existing. " Old Man, My Son," I said laughing softly… practically begging at this point. " Please don't let them take him, or get near him" I took a soft breath " She will give her life for him but I'm afraid they will do anything for him, sigh with my blood and hers," He simply looked at me…

" Who's blood does she carry?" He asked as he started to stand, turning his back to me… looking at the exit.

" WhiteBeard's Himself," I said letting out a chuckle.

" Boy, you are asking a lot…" I could hear his lip quivering… and a soft sigh leaving his lips… "Why… Why did you have to go and get caught," A soft drip sounded as his tears landed on the floor. "DAMIT BOY WHY" He screamed… punching the floor and causing it to crack… "I will… I promise boy," He spoke, moving one foot in front of the other… walking towards the exit. "I… I promise… I won't let this government take anything else from you…Your life is more than enough,"

"Thank you," I smiled softly at his words… knowing at the very least… they would be fine. "For everything old man," I bowed as he disappeared from sight.

Time Skip Right before Ace's death

Y/N POV

I ducked, covering Luffy as we ran through the insanity of the war. I felt the earth shake… and watched with horror as the large cannon began to separate me from my dad.

" POPS" Marco and Vista yelled, stopping in their tracks to watch the man before them.

" WHY? PLEASE NO!" I was screaming as he separated us, forcing us to leave him " PAPA PLEASE… DON'T LEAVE US… DON'T LEAVE ME!" God, there was so much going on… we had Ace… we won… why couldn't we just leave… why couldn't I just have my happy ending…

"POPS NO!" Ace stood beside me trying to hold me back as I attempted to rush back to him. We could only watch, his body bloodied and broken… his white hair stained red… but yet… a proud smile on his face. Turning to look at his children… us… me.

" My children Before I go, tell me. Was I a good Farther?" he asked as a single tear ran down his face.

" YES PAPA! YOU WHERE THE BEST, DON'T EVER QUESTION IT" I yelled out to him. Knowing that… this would be the last time I'd hear him… his voice, his laugh… his smile… all of it was for the last time. I watched as his face contorted… his smile dropping… and his eyes… going blank… "PAPA!!!" I screamed, making a move to run but two strong arms stopped him. "Y/n… Y/n… you have a son to return to… please!" It was Marco… he held me tightly to my chest, trying to reason with me, "Sabo… needs you… so let's go… while we still can," I didn't want to… no, not my dad… my old man… leaving him here… it didn't feel right… but yet… I knew I had to.

"Right…"

"Tsk… what a pathetic excuse of a man," I halted at the comment… a harsh, deep, ridged voice spoke. Akainu stood, staring us down from a close distance… far too close for comfort. "To die… a Pirate… How hell bound is he…" Oh, he irked me… so much… but the thought of Sabo, being left with Rayleigh … not knowing why his mother never came back to him, sobered me up.

" SHUT UP YOU KNOW NOTHING OF HIM!" Ace roared at him, his voice booming with rage… fuck. I didn't have time to react. Not a word was said, nor was there a movement as Ace leaped, aiming right at Akainu. I watched in frozen horror, glancing around the battlefield in search of Luffy… find him… protect him… you promised him… was the only thing going through my head. Finding him a decent distance, I refocused on Ace going blow for blow with the Admiral. Blood flew, spit, punch after punch… Lava… Fire… it fused together oh so beautifully yet so terrifying all at the same time.

" ACE STOP!" I screamed trying to gain his attention… pull him away… anything. But… he continued on, landing a decent blow to Akainus's face, causing the man to stumble back slightly… allowing both a moment to refocus. I could see it… the way his eyes wandered to the weakest link on the front line… "LUFFY!" too late… too late… too late… I was… too late to notice, to react, to move, to… to stop him.

" FINE, I'LL JUST GO FOR YOU!" Akainu yelled as he made his way toward Luffy.

"NO!" Me and Ace yelled at the same time. Too late… too late… too late… far too late… I watched… in pure horror as Ace took the blow… not just any blow… no… a fatal one.

"A-ACEE" Luffy's voice was ear piercing… his scream… his horror…his sorrow… I ran… as fast as I could… watching… from what felt like a mile away.

"a-ACE" I screamed as he fell to the floor, " NO NO NO" I screamed running toward him. Finally, finally, I was making up ground… sliding to my keens next to Luffy, allowing the boy to fall onto my shoulder…

" Ace" Luffy whispered, his eyes rolling back, a scream etched onto his face while he passed out… sliding down my shoulder… into the bloodied ground…

"L-luf!" Before I could move to help… the gurgling of Ace… called for me.

" He-hey babe," He said softly coughing up blood. A stupid smile on his face… his eyes already droopy and face pailing fast. With gentle hands, I brought him to rest on my lap… watching as my tears dripped onto his face.

" A-Ace… No, please tell me you're ok," I said cleaning the blood from his lip. I knew he wasn't… but god did I wish he was… wish the blood was another stupid joke… wish this damn pool of blood was actually spilled juice… but unfortunately… it wasn't. There was no sweet scent to it… only bitter and iron… and the sounds weren't the crew laughing… no it was gunshots, screams… death. I glanced next to me Luffy was passed, his eyes white and mouth wide. " L-look what you did to him," I said chucking softly trying to lighten the mood. "scared him for life…"

"Y/N I -I'm sorry"

"For what? You have nothing to apologize for," I said letting the tears run free.

" I put a target on Sabo's back, with my blood," He said tears running as well. His goofy smile was replaced with a deep frown… taking a moment he coughed up more blood.

" Ace, love… any child I or you had was gonna be wanted from birth" I sighed as his breathing started too slow. I watched as the light became a little more dime in his eyes… Oh, what a time… to be in his final moments… and all he can think about is our son… God what a man. " I'm just happy that you're the father of my child" I lowered my head pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Tasting the iron from his blood… and salt from his sweat. Gently pulling away… just gazing down at his basically white face.

"Please Y/N, keep him safe," Ace said as the breath left his lips " And please follow Luffy… keep him safe" He gave a soft smile, lifting his head to kiss me, "mm and Find someone else to love… someone to hold you… care for you… love… you," his breath shuttered… lifting himself again to meet my lips… one… last… time. I smiled at the last kiss we would ever share, with my husband… with my soulmate… " Ace the love of my life I promise I will keep everyone safe but… I can't promise to find another," I couldn't bring myself to promise something like that… "I never said till death do us part…" I held his lips centimeters away from mine… "Because I refuse to separate after death… stuck with me for eternity"

"Thank… you… for loving me…" He coughed… blood spitting up… spilling onto my hair, face, clothes… everything… "Thank you… for… my greatest.." He huffed… trying to continue… fighting the darkness threatening to take him… "Gift… I-I… will find you again… I promise…promis…" I watched… as his eyes went dark… his stupid smile still resting on his face… his breathing stopping completely… My Ace… oh my Ace… was gone… but yet… I could only smile… knowing that in those seven seconds of his life flashing before his eyes… I was in there… and Sabo… Luffy, Pops… Garp… Thatch… Marco… and I'm sure… even Teach.

Narrators POV

"ACE" the crew screamed as he went limp. They watched… tearful… scared… making no movements as Y/n sat there… smiling but motionless with Ace still resting on her lap.

" Y/N!!" Marco yelled, deciding he couldn't leave his sister there alone any longer… Rushing over… he gently grabbed Luffy, quickly handing him over to Jinbe before turning back to her. "Y/n?" He softly spoke… tearing up at the sight in front of him… 'Ace…' His heart hurt… oh so badly… Thatch… Pops… now Ace… all ripped from his fingers. He was dragged out of his thoughts when the ground suddenly shook… stumbling away from her, the sheer Haki that was radiating off her was… terrifying.

"АНННННННН!" а scream of agony ripped from Her throat as if she had just been stabbed through the heart. It was ear-shattering and heartbreaking… no matter what side you were fighting for. " AAAACCCCEEEEE!" she cried out. Violently sobbing, simply staring down at his body… "AGHHH ACE!!"

" Y/N CALM DOWN" The crew was trying to get her to calm down, they knew her devil fruit… heavily intertwined with her anger and sorrow… Losing control now… means doubling the size of the casualties.

" No no no no NOOOO!" She screamed… her hair floating as she allowed her energy to flow freely… shaking the ground. " I'm done with this!" She rasped… voice hoarse and ragged. "I'll kill you," she muttered softly… before tearing her eyes from Ace and staring at Akainu "I'll KILL YOU!" she screamed as she gently removed the now lifeless body from her lap. Taking caution to lay his head on the ground softly… taking his hat into her hands and staring at it for a moment before setting it safely upon her head. "DEADLY PUPPET!"

Everyone froze as the dead bodies all around her started to move again ( Minus Ace). Mangeld and broken… bodies of Marines and Pirates moved… Standing at a still position… like mer puppets. Marco gasped softly… staring at her face… seeing the ice-cold stare she held, no remorse for those she was using as she would usually have… No emotion about the fact that her own brothers were being used… She was no longer Y/n in this moment… nor was she La Muerte no love… health… celebration… no she was Xibalba… dark… frighting… forgetting those she was using.

" Kill every Marine In site" She demanded. Her voice was dark, laced in venom… eyes a neon green, and hair a now spikey form. Everyone watched in horror as the number of dead bodies doubled as well as the number of her army.

" Y/N STOP THIS MADNESS" The crew called back while at the same time trying to get Luffy to safety. Jinbe was horrified… Ace spoke as if this woman was a saint… but what he saw now was straight out of hell.

"Love… that's what she's acting on," Vista spoke quickly… catching the terrified look on Jinbe's face. "The unhealthy kind"

"Y/n PLEASE!" Marco screamed

" NO THEY KILLED MY HUSBAND AND MY FARTHER, NO MARINE WILL LEAVE HERE ALIVE" She screamed, moving to search for the bastard that did it… that killed him. Locking eyes on him… she only smiled, dark and menacing. " AND YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF" she pointed at Akainu and started to walk towards him.

" Bring it on 'Princess'" He said getting ready for a fight. Using air quotes to taunt her… trying to get her mentally over the edge. It was working.

" AKAINU I'LL KILL YOU THEN I'M GOING AFTER THAT FATASS UP THERE," she said pointing toward Teach. Who gasped at her words… not realizing he was gonna get dragged in so soon.

As another body hit the floor, the two were going at it. Lava was flying with each connection of kicks and punches. Blood, sweat, and tears were flying everywhere. Some are attacks missing and others are not.

" YOUR SON WILL DIE THE SAME WAY HIS FARTHER DID" Akainu yelled, ' I can break her' he thought. He was not expecting such a vigorous fight… especially from a woman. 'never believed that a broken-hearted woman… was far more dangerous than a greedy man…' She was proving his belief wrong now.

" AKAINU THAT'S ENOUGH" Garp yelled. ' I made a promise' he thought struggling under Son Goku. He needed to get to her… at the very least… be ready for if they moved to hunt for son… His great-grandson… 'Like hell they'll take her… or him!'

" Garp are you trading sides," He asked pushing Garp further into the ground.

" No but that Woman is my family and so is her child," he said finally getting out. Rushing to the battlefield… not getting involved but staying close just in case.

" YOU TOUCH MY SON I'LL BURN YOU IN HELL!" She screamed… sending a fist into Akainu, Haki covered and blood-lust-ridden. Hitting him so hard that he went flying… sailing into the canon that her father had made… Breathing heavily "Fuck… You!" Shifting her sight… Moving on from Akainu… hunting for the bitch bastard that started all this… "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TEA-AKK!" She gurgled when a sword impaled her chest… near deadly strick. "I- Who?" Y/n gasped… glancing behind her to see Marco… tear tear-ridden face and guilt-bound.

"I'm sorry little Sis… I promise I'll fix you up… but I can only allow so many siblings to die this day…" He whispered, pulling the sword from her chest… watching as she coughed up blood… before falling backward into the ground… landing right next to Ace. Turning her head… she gazed at his body… his face pale and eyes blank… but still his stupid… not his beautiful smile… edged onto his face forever. Reaching out softly… grasping his hand, she smiled.

"Unfortunately… Marco won't let me meet you yet…" She spoke softly… knowing full well that Marco would be back any second to heal her… "But… I'm glad… because I promise… I'll raise a perfect boy… a man… just like you," She smiled softly, allowing the darkness to take her. "Bye… bye my Ace."

"MAMA UNCLE LUFFY WANTS YOU!"

'Right!' Y/N was dragged out of her memories, reliving the past and the pleasure of her husband. It's been nearly 3 years since then, and now little Sabo stood smiling happily at the Age of 4. He looks exactly like him… his freckled-ridden face, dark eyes, hair, smile… not even an aspect of her in him. Only… Ace… and she wouldn't have it any other way.

" Think bout Papa again?" he asked sitting next to her, carefully grabbing her hand. Gently rubbing his thumb over her hand… a faint memory of his father doing so… was it his own?… or just one of when his mama would tell him of his dad?

" Yes sweetie, sorry," she said trying to wipe the little tears that were escaping.

" It's ok to cry Mama, I miss Papa too," he said now hugging his mother's arm. He did… so much… so young yet he knew he loved Ace… no His dad… he missed him… remembered him… needed him… loved him.

" Anyways, Where's Uncle Luffy?" She said getting off of Sunny's head. Picking Sabo up on the way.

" He's inside with Uncle Zoro," Sabo said pointing toward the kitchen door.

" Come on then! Let's see," she said slowly walking, Sabo went ahead and ran in front. Giggling as he threw the door open.

" I love you" Y/N was quick to turn around, looking for who said that. She sighed at the sight of her husband… a move… a technique she'd been practicing for years… now perfected.

" Thank you," she said smiling toward him. " For everything and I love you too" She took a step toward him and hugged the ghost, a familiar scent and touch made her smile…

" I'll be back don't worry," He said holding her face.

" I know, next week? Same time? " she asked.

"Same time," he said smiling back. She gently kissed him as he slowly faded away. God was she blessed to be a Devil fruit owner… especially of the Land of the Dead… both the forgotten and remembered… She got his spirit back to this world… not to complete her second part of this mission… completing his body… to be used as a successful vessel.

"Soon Mi amor… I'll have you back… and so will Luffy, Marco… Sabo…" She smirked… pulling out her notebook to make the final touches to her sketch… "Just need a compatible heart…"

"MAMA HURRY!!!"

"COMING LOVE!!" She giggled, tucking it safely into her pocket, before running to the Kitchen.

(okay so.... I sobbed writting this... Like being so for real... sobbed... I love Ace, he's my husband and his birthday was 4 days ago.... AGHHH... miss his greasy ass.... okay love you all! and also this took for ever so I promis PT2 for her healed heart will be out soon!

HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT,DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL

[leighsartworks216]

Red String of Fate

Sylus x gn!Reader

Spent like an hour talking to my roommate in the middle of posting this. Not proofread (even tho I really should) Takes place in the Raven universe

Warnings: red string of fate, birthday, past trauma, past character death, fluff, kissing, crying, presents

Word Count: 3,082

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“You ask-”

“No, you-”

You snap your fingers. The loud click shuts up the twins in an instant and draws them from the shadows of the doorway into the room. They look decidedly anxious, midway between shoving each other forward. You raise a brow at them.

They look at each other. With a shared nod, they stand side by side in front of you. “When’s your birthday?” they both ask at once.

… Really? All that fuss just to ask when you were born? You give them an unimpressed stare. Interrupting your alone time was really worth this?

“It’s just that we-”

“Were wondering since Boss’s birthday is in April-”

“And if yours is before-”

“Or after-”

“His then we can start preparing right now!”

You tap your finger against the armrest. Your persistent silence unnerves them, even after you’ve been here for almost a year at this point. It’s nice, especially now that they’ve had time to adjust to it. It took a lot of confidence to ask you such a stupid question, after all. Too bad you don’t have any interest in answering.

You turn back to your book, signaling the end of the conversation. The twins look at each other, shrug, and leave. Once they’re safely past the open doorway and down the hall, you set your book down.

A birthday growing up sounded like some magical, wondrous event. Candy, games, cake, presents. How many nights had you dreamed of them? How many times had you seen a group of kids in cone hats in the park, parents trying to round them all up so they could blow out candles and dig into the carefully decorated cakes, with cursive writing on top wishing the special one a happy birthday?

The best you managed to scrounge up was when you were maybe 10 years old, give or take a few years. A new soup kitchen opened up. You lined up on the block with the other homeless, starving people of the city. The promise of hot food was always worth the pitying glances and disgusted glares.

When it was your turn in line, after waiting all morning until your legs were just about ready to give out, the person working there had dug through a crinkled brown paper bag to give you a squished brownie wrapped in cling film. That night, an older man you’d known well, had you blow out his lighter to make a wish. You’d split the brownie with him.

When he died less than a week later, something in you died with him. You hadn’t had a brownie since, or much else in the way of sweets, for that matter. As soon as the Devil picked you up into his business, they were off the table completely. The only real thing that improved was how frequent your meals were, without the anxiety of never eating again. But not the quantity; you had to stay thin for the stage.

You don’t even remember what day that soup kitchen opened. Well, there’s no reason to look into it now. Enough bad memories have been dredged up today.

Your phone buzzes with a message.

The twins are asking me when your birthday is. I assume they already tried asking you?

They left just a few minutes ago.

There’s no response for a minute, as if he knows he’s stepping on a thin line between things you do talk about and things you’ll never talk about.

Do you want to celebrate it?

You have to take a moment to think, to consider what he’s offering here.

You have no idea when your birthday is, and he probably gleaned as much. That’s not what he’s asking, though. If you could stare at a calendar, at every single day of the year all perfectly laid out, when would you pick to celebrate your life? It wouldn’t be a celebration of your birth, but it could be so much more. You’re not even sure what adults do for their birthdays, so separated from the concept that you stopped paying attention entirely. But you could choose to do anything - everything.

Your thumb hovers uncertainly over the digital keyboard, before finally typing out a message.

I think I would.

Just say when, sweetheart.

-

The second the twins are told your “birthday” is just a month away, on the day you agreed to work alongside Sylus, it’s all they seem to care about. Huddling together to excitedly whisper about it during missions, probing questions into what you like (mostly to Sylus, but sometimes they get so excited they ask you before realizing you won’t answer), hiding packages delivered to the mansion, and so on.

Sylus is much better about containing his excitement, if he is excited at all to celebrate your special day. He asks first if there’s anything special you’d like to do - dinner, shopping, traveling - you name it and he’s on it. When you admit that you have no idea what people do on their birthdays, he’s all too happy to list out things, without judgement. If he’s honest, he doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday either.

You think about the parties you watched as a kid. Piece by piece, you break it down into things you think you’d like.

First and foremost, you wouldn’t mind a cake or some other dessert. Sylus is right on it, suggesting that you both visit a cake shop to figure out what your preferences are before the twins go overboard with a flavor you don’t like. The owners think you’re planning for your wedding. Neither of you correct them.

Second, the games. Whether it’s Kitty Cards or Texas Hold ‘Em, you think it would be fun to play a game or two with Sylus and the twins. Gambling may or may not be involved.

Third, you remember one kid in your youth who was all dressed up in a suit by his parents, all to visit some cheap arcade. You would like to dress up. Sylus chuckles at this one, not because he thinks it’s silly, but because he’s always prepared to have a custom wardrobe built for you. He promises to have a tailor discuss your ideas with you.

As far as birthdays go, it’s nothing crazy outlandish like some of the things Sylus told you people do. At the end of the day, all you really want is to dress up, go to dinner with him (alone), come back to play games with the twins, and have cake. You don’t want the world in the palm of your hands, because you don’t need it. You’ve never wanted it.

Once your desires are laid out, Luke and Kieran calm down a bit. They’re no longer trying to plan this whole big bash, but scheming up ways to win the games against you and Boss, the notorious cheaters that they are. (They’ll never win, but they’re not going down without a fight.)

Mephisto spends the entire time leading up to the day gathering trinkets and withholding them from you. Usually, if he sees something shiny, he brings it straight to you for wordless praise and chin scratches. You know right away what he’s up to. You pretend not to notice for his sake.

Your outfit is ready in less than a week, the cake is baked with all the flavors you enjoyed at the shop, and you couldn’t be happier.

Sylus can’t tear his eyes off of you when you finally reveal your custom attire. Throughout the night, he can’t stop telling you how amazing you look, encouraging you to have more outfits made for future events. The restaurant he chose has a balcony that you two sit on, staring out over a stretch of beach. The ocean breeze carries the bite of salt, refreshing you for the rest of the night ahead.

You tell Luke and Kieran you’ll be home before midnight, but you drag Sylus out to the beach and get sidetracked. He can’t stop smiling as he holds your shoes and watches you run out into the shallow waves. The moon shines on the soft waves behind you, bathing you in an ethereal glow. By the time you do get back to the mansion, your hair is windswept and you have sand everywhere, but you don’t mind at all.

The games are so fun. Luke says you’re cheating by sitting in Sylus’s lap during Kitty Cards, but you gesture for him to sit on Kieran’s lap while he plays. Sylus doesn’t assist you in the game at all; Kieran points out moves and subtly switches the cards in Luke’s hand for the ones hidden up his sleeve. They don’t win a single game.

The cake is beautiful, decorated to perfection and topped with a few candles. You stare at the cursive on top for a moment. When they sing you the song (even Sylus), he notices the distance in your eyes. He kisses the top of your head when the song is over to snap you out of it. You don’t actually make a wish when you blow out the little, flickering flames. There’s nothing you want, and lingering too long trying to figure a wish out only draws the memories of the old man closer to the forefront of your mind.

You cut the first slice. Sylus cuts the rest. He’s not big on sweet things, but he finishes his thin slice anyway. You savor every bite. It’s paradise in your mouth. He has to cut off the twins from having any more, lest they make themselves sick.

Each of them has a present for you. Well, Mephisto has several. He flies to and fro for a while, bringing you little trinkets and shiny things that all pile up on the table. You take the time to look at and admire each one, even sorting them into different groups based on what they are. You wind up with a humorous amount of bottle caps.

Luke gets you a new pair of handguns. Kieran gets you a harness with holsters to hold them in on missions. Sylus gives you a photo album, full of photos from the year you’ve spent together. You sit pressed into his side on the couch and flip through it, page by page. You can see yourself relaxing with each picture. Just a few days after you start working with Sylus, you offer the camera a mischievous smile that doesn’t reflect in your eyes. In the last photo, from a few days ago, you look like a different person; you smile without fear, your guard is let down. The person you were at the gala a year ago has finally found someone to trust.

As the night comes to a close, the twins wish you happy birthday once more before heading off to bed. The mess is left for someone else to deal with. Your presents sit on the table and wait to be put away as Sylus leads you up to what’s become your shared bedroom.

You’re positively glowing. It’s all Sylus can think as you both lay perpendicular over the blankets. Your head rests on his stomach, his fingers trail slowly through your hair, and in just a few hours, the sun will be rising. Yet here you are, too happy to sleep just yet. You want to bask in this feeling a little longer.

You understand now why Luke and Kieran were so enthusiastic, why all those kids from your childhood couldn’t bear the thought of waiting another year for their next birthday, why adults continue to celebrate. You can’t remember the last time you felt a joy like this. It feels all bubbly in your chest, almost surreal, as memories of things that happened just hours ago draw out dopey smiles and lingering giggles. Sylus’s eyes are impossibly soft as he takes you in.

You’re still in the outfit you wore to dinner. He’s still in his suit, sans his jacket. Two pairs of shoes are kicked off carelessly beside the bed. Nothing else matters except right here, right now, soaking in the final vestiges of the night.

He brushes his thumb along your cheek, drawing your eyes to look up at him, that sweet grin still dancing on your face. His fingertips trail featherlight along your jaw, tracing your chin and brushing at your lips. You reach up to hold his hand in place as you kiss his fingers, eyes closing in bliss as you leave pecks down each one, only to leave a lingering kiss to his palm. You look back up at him. He smiles.

“I have one last gift for you,” he says quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter every window and mirror throughout the entire mansion.

You tilt your head, curiosity drawing your brows together in a silent question. Your smile stays the same. He shifts, helping you sit up so you’re side by side, just facing opposite directions. You watch as his Evol reaches out to the nightstand drawer, pulling out a box and placing it in his awaiting hand. He offers it to you with purpose.

It’s simple, but beautiful nonetheless. Carefully carved wood, rich in color, with a domed lid and rounded edges. It’s about the length of your palm, and no wider than three fingers. A red silk ribbon in a bow ties it together, preventing the hinged lid from being opened. You glance back up at him. He nods toward it.

The silk slips softly through your fingers as you tug on one end of the bow. The knot falls apart, and the ribbon slides onto your lap. You lift the lid and-

You look up at Sylus, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. He smiles broadly at your reaction. You look back at the present, emotion bubbling up in your chest once more. It feels even more powerful than earlier. Your eyes burn, but you fight back the tears.

Two rings perch side by side within the velvet-lined box. Red jewels decorate golden bands, shimmering in the dim lighting of his bedroom. A matching set. This is far more than just a pair of earrings or cufflinks, this is…

The first tear falls. You hold the box to your chest as you lean toward Sylus. He meets you halfway, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His broad chest shields you from the rest of the world, hiding the emotions you only allow him to see. Which is wonderful, because you feel so silly, crying over a present like this. He’s given you so much in your time together. Anything you could ever dream of and more - always more. Always trying to make sure you’re happy and comfortable. This is like him giving you the world. You can’t ask for anything greater than that.

“Read the engraving,” he whispers, gently pulling the box from your chest. He holds it while your shaky fingers, usually so steady and sure, pull the smaller ring from the cushion. It takes a minute to see, having to wipe your eyes several times to get rid of the steady flow of tears.

You are my new destiny.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, muffling the sounds that try to escape. It’s usually so easy to be quiet, even under the worst torture. It seems impossible to shut up now.

Sylus pulls your hand away from your mouth, abandoning the box on the bed next to you, and cupping your cheek to wipe away the tears. He kisses your forehead. “May I put it on you?”

You nod immediately. He takes the ring from your trembling fingers and holds your left hand. You watch, entranced, as he slips it onto your pinky. It fits perfectly. The red jewel glimmers, mirror Sylus’s eyes when you look up at him. He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss over the ring.

You giggle, a soft and wet sound. You can feel his smile against your fingers. You’ve never felt so light before.

You turn to the box, using your free hand to carefully take out the larger ring. The band is a bit wider than yours, but the design holding the jewel in place is almost identical. You don’t need to ask or even gesture for him to give you his left hand; he offers it right away, still holding your left hand as he does. You slip the golden ring onto his pinky. Overcome with rapturous emotion, you hold his hand in both of yours and bring it to your lips, kissing the ring just as he had as a quiet, happy sob breeches your lips.

He wraps his arm around you, drawing you to rest against him, your joined hands resting over his erratic heart. His head is ducked down to rest against yours, kisses pressing over the crown of your head. His heart aches in the best way to be granted the opportunity to see you like this.

Your fingers play affectionately with his, thumbing over his ring and massaging his palm. When he returns the favor, brushing over your ring or gathering both of your hands in his just to hold them, you let out airy little laughs that burrow their way into his heart, where they will stay for the rest of time.

You use your right hand to finally wipe the last of your tears away, unwilling to let go of the bond that ties you together. You pull back just enough to look up at his face with a big, beaming grin. He leans his forehead against yours, your noses brushing against each other.

“I love you,” you whisper. It comes out crackly and hoarse, but it sounds like music to his ears.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back. “In every lifetime, I will find you. For the rest of eternity. Always.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his lips. It starts slow, a mere vessel for the vow he made, a seal that forces this change in fate he is creating. It doesn’t take long for it to grow hungry and desperate for each other. Not long at all until he’s cradling your neck, cold metal pressing against your skin, as he lowers you back into the bed, leaning his body over yours and supporting himself so all his weight isn’t crushing you.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes into your mouth, “my beloved.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[vamp0rivm]

𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟸

summary: two years later, ellie’s back in jackson. from what you’ve heard, she’s not exactly been doing great either.

warnings: angst with no comfort yet (ITS COMING I PROMISE), you’re in another relationship (ellie gets kind of jealous…), vague ref. to drug abuse and addiction

an: sorry this took like five years, as always, love you guys, stay safe, never stop talking about palestine. do your clicks. :-)

chapter 1

TWO YEARS LATER

There should probably, definitely be a lot of things on Ellie’s mind right now but, truthfully, the exhaustion flooded them all out.

She’s been sitting next to Tommy in his shitty, busted, old truck in the densest silence she’s ever been in, hurtling her way back to the place she was damn sure she was never going to see again just a few months back, and all she can think about is how badly she wants to close her eyes and finally fucking sleep, but he keeps throwing out questions randomly, and Ellie feels obligated to answer them all given the fact that he just picked her scrawny ass up from rehab following almost a year of no contact.

She takes in a sharp breath of air. It doesn’t rattle her lungs as much as it used to. Then, she swallows, forcing a gulp down the dry enclosure of her throat, and turns to look at Tommy.

“Hm?”

“Am I taking you to ours or yours?”

“What?”

“Jesus- Am I driving you down to Maria and I’s, or are you gonna go back to your old house?”

Ellie’s brain stutters.

The impending situation is suddenly becoming too real.

You were starring in the film in her mind ever since the one-way flight to LA, and every time you came up on screen, she felt her stomach wrench with longing, with guilt.

She was far from home, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people who’s faces were unfamiliar and, quite frankly, scary. She had no idea how the fuck she ended up where she did, but she knew that the thoughts she needed a distraction from required remedies more concentrated than whiskey.

The last few months were especially shit: stuck in that building with junkies who would be back in just as long as they stayed, with nothing to do but sit with every last one of those thoughts.

Joel’s death had beaten her to a pulp; she was only just beginning to be able to talk about him, to draw him, to remember him, without all the anger and all the all-consuming guilt. Only just beginning to do that after the absolute shit-show her life became for a long moment. Yes, Joel’s death beat the hell out of her, but she herself delivered the finishing blow.

There is a lot of guilt in Ellie’s life, towards Joel, towards Tommy, towards her friends, towards you – more than she can bear for this lifetime and maybe the next few too. So, like she promised herself, there’s no use in any of it. All she can do is just focus on each day and try to make things right where she can.

The question plagues her mind, the one she has absolutely no right to ask, of whether or not you’ll be there, whether or not you waited for her. She doesn’t know which would be worse.

“Mine.”

Tommy nods, glancing at her before shifting his line of view back to the road and Ellie lets out a small puff of air. She hopes things can go back to how they used to be between the two of them one day. Joel’s death also beat the hell out of Tommy. In fact, Ellie was slightly surprised to hear that Tommy’s place was “Maria and I’s” again, since they weren’t exactly on good terms when she left, divorced and all.

“Do… Do you know if… she’s still staying there?”

He goes quiet, dropping the coy exchange of practised words and turns to look at Ellie for longer than what’s considered road safe.

“… Honestly, I’m not sure. Haven’t seen her in a while. But, come to think of it, I must’ve heard someone mentionin’ some’ about her stayin’ with someone for a while... You, uh, you sure you’re gonna be okay goin’ back to yours?”

“Yeah… I mean… It’s gotta happen eventually.”

Tommy nods, breathing out,

“That it does,"

And Ellie reclines into the hardened cushion of the seat, pressing her cheek to it to rest, gazing out at the familiar sequence of buildings blurring by. She thinks she should probably drop by Dina’s tomorrow.

Ellie’s become mythical. 

“I just got a text from Jesse…”

You look up from your screen at Dina, who is sprawled out across from you on the couch. She sits up, all serious, and the look in her eyes tells you she knows you’re not going to like what you’re about to hear.

“He said Ellie’s coming back to Jackson.”

Sometimes you have these… dreams, if you can even call them that; nothing about them is hazy or dream-like, just… like your mind opens up a part of itself that you keep closed when you’re in control and forces you to look at it.

You’re lucid every time, of course, even your subconscious knows that it’s impossible for Ellie to be near you, to be smiling at you the way she used to.

No. She walked out and didn’t look back. And, in all honesty, you can't even blame her for that. Not when she was falling apart back here just the same. Not when she wasn't even herself anymore, when the thoughts got a hold of her.

When you open your eyes, you can’t bring yourself to look at your girlfriend laying next to you. She feels like a stranger who sleeps in your apartment sometimes.

Your mind strays, and you wonder if that’s how Ellie felt about you. Then, you close your eyes again and try to soothe the nausea that inevitably builds in your stomach - flex your fingers to remind yourself that you're a living, breathing person, who can’t just rot in sheets, clinging to morsels of sleep.

When Ellie left, there was a massive gaping hole in, not just your heart, but your entire life. You tried to stay put in the house but, God, it was painful. The dusty trinkets she left behind lining the desk alone were like totems of your one-man cult devoted to her.

You packed all your shit soon after, leaving Ellie’s exactly as it was.

At first, crashing at Dina’s place was a temporary fix, but it turned out you desperately needed the company and Dina loved having someone around to bother too. Things got better slowly, or at least they stopped hurting as much.

So, every day, you stumble out of bed and get ready for the shitty little job you got to make yourself feel human again, kissing the girl you’ve been fucking around with for way too long, and then waving goodbye to Dina as you go.

You’re rebuilt, no longer in pieces like you were when she left. In fact, your mind doesn’t look back on her much anymore, but there are traces of what she did to you in everything you do.

The way you put yourself back together, it’s a bit twisted up, not quite the same. 

Dina’s eyes never leave yours, gaze firm in its preemptive empathy, though there’s not much use. Your mind must have malfunctioned; there’s not a single emotion playing out in it right now but there absolutely, definitely should be. You’re just not sure which.

After a tense moment passes, you hum in feigned pensiveness.

She was playing bigger venues is what you heard – sold out shows, collaborating with artists she used to dream of meeting, getting into scandals and posting snapshots of her new, flashier life, or at least her manager was.

You knew Ellie, and you were well aware that she felt like a phony doing shit like that.

But, then again, you thought you knew she wouldn’t leave you for LA too.

A while back, it was radio silence. Her posts stopped, the new releases ceased abruptly, and it was as if she had vanished, dropped off the face of the planet.

Rehab is what the shitty gossip threads were saying. The things you began being told every now and then were hard to hear: she was foaming at the mouth, being seen in a random state thousands of miles away with little recollection of how she got there, drunk off her ass again at an awards show. Shards of glass, cutting through the fragile peace you'd built.

At the time, it still impacted you, of course. She was once your girl. But you were forced to look it in the eye: the fact that she was in the worst shape you’d seen her in when you came across images of her online, with sunken cheeks; yellowed, bloodshot eyes looking emptier than ever, and dry, chapped lips. Fuck, it made your stomach writhe with pain. She was still suffering, only scraps left of who she used to be.

Not that you expected anything other than deterioration.

Dina inhales sharply, nodding as she struggles through the wording of the question she’s about to pose,

“…How are you feeling?”

It doesn’t matter though. None of that matters, because you’ve moved forward. You live in a different neighborhood, with different hopes, a different job, and a different girlfriend.

“…I’m not exactly gonna welcome her with open arms, if that’s what you’re expecting. But, you know what? I’m okay.”

Different.

She nods again.

“I mean, it’s been a long time, D. I’ve moved on.”

Dina smiles at you reassuringly, and it pisses you off because why is she reassuring you? You said you’re fine, didn’t you?  What reason is there to be all empathetic?

“Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I mean, it’s completely normal to feel… upset, I guess, even if you’ve moved on. She was still super important to you for some time in your life, even if things didn’t exactly end well.”

“Yeah… Well, I don’t really wanna see her, but I hope she’s doing better.”

She doesn’t know what she expected, but she couldn’t stay in that house.

The first step in was cautious, casting hesitant glances into the darkness in the hope that she’d catch a glimpse of something that would tell her you’re home, before she took notice of the hollowness.

Everything was spotless and your things were gone.

The display case with your tea set was empty, the little trinkets on your bedside table were nowhere to be found, your side of the closet was barren, and every trace of the life you shared had disappeared. The house seemed to be cocooned in a layer of dust, preserving only the imprint of Ellie.

You’d left the duvet and a pillow tapped up for her on the bed you shared if she ever did come home, but that bed is too big for her alone now.

Ellie turned around and walked out, leaving it all behind again. She wasn’t sure where to go, though she was positive she needed to be alone, away from all the people she’d hurt. Away from all the damage she’d done.

So, she walks till her muscles ache out to a motel on the other side of town, praying the dark keeps her face hidden enough from anyone who might recognize her and makes a nest in the stained sheets and matted carpet floor, because she much prefers this discomfort to the one in that house. Alone with her thoughts and the mechanical whir of the AC, she doesn’t want to cry; she doesn’t have the right to, but when a tear escapes, the dam breaks. At least it helps her sleep better.

The night passes like a flash and daylight filters through the grimy motel windows, past Ellie’s tired eyelids. She stirs awake, rubbing a hand down her face groggily, and lays in the haze for a while.

She’s supposed to see Dina today. The only friend she really ever kept in contact with while on her long ass bender and throughout her stay at the facility was Jesse, because she couldn’t bring herself to face Dina, not when she was in that state.

She has absolutely no idea what will happen, and it’s terrifying. But she can’t deny that she feels a deep-seated anxiety that can only be satiated by asking Dina about you, though the questions themselves haven’t exactly been decided on yet. She thinks she’ll quickly tire of having no idea what will happen but she doesn’t have much of a choice, so she slinks out of bed and trudges over to the sink to freshen up before setting off.

After confusing the fuck out of a half-deaf old man at Dina’s old apartment and a text exchange with one of their mutual acquaintances, Ellie finally shows up at what she really hopes is the right door and delivers a series of three shy knocks.

When the door is opened, she is immediately overtaken by a wave of warmth and the scent of freshly made pancakes. She still has a hard time getting food down but, honestly, she’d start drifting through the air towards it if she were in a cartoon.

Then, she looks up and, for a moment, her face falls at the sight of another unfamiliar face, but her eyes catch a glimpse of someone else across the apartment and Ellie’s heart stills.

You stare down at the text Nathan just sent you with guilt-ridden relief. A family emergency means the café isn’t going to open today, so you don’t have to go to work.

Feeling happy that Nathan has a family emergency makes you feel a little ashamed too, because Nathan’s a standup guy, but you didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night, and getting up to go to work with the tiresome deadweight of your eyebags is the last thing you need right now.

In truth, all that has been on your mind since that godforsaken exchange with Dina on the couch yesterday is Ellie, and the night following was a restless one. You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling with a permanent furrow in your brow that was making your face ache, unable to quiet the torrent of memories and emotions in your mind, feeling like you were back in that house again, trying to sleep the night after she walked out.

You tossed and turned, grasping pathetically for comfort, but every position felt like suffocation. In your dark and still room, you felt like you were going to rupture with the pressure of the whirlwind inside you against the confines of your skull.

Each second dragged out longer than the last. Each second, you remembered what it felt like to be with her and then to watch her fade, and it was all so vivid, so inescapable. You’re not even sure if you can call it longing, because what settles in your stomach feels a lot more like anguish, distress, a desperate hope for her to be in a better place. You so badly want to believe you’ve moved on from her, but the truth is so glaringly obvious that you can’t even turn away from it, so you just close your eyes.

You don’t want to think about her today. You’ll do anything to not think about her today.

You guess it’s a good thing Dina set off early because even the sight of her would’ve reminded you of Ellie.

Instead, when you glance to your left at the rustle of bed sheets beside you and see Alexis rubbing the sleep from her puffy eyes, you smile softly and try to feel some semblance of warmth at the fact that you can just laze around with her for now.

Alexis smiles back, groggily stretching the arm tossed over your waist and running it gently along your side.

There is a sinking in the pit of your stomach, though, at the realization that things are getting very domestic for something that was supposed to be ‘casual.’ You know now more than ever that you cannot handle that.

When she leans in and works her lips on the crook of your neck, mumbling,

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” you take it as your queue to sit up, shifting away from her.

“Good morning, babe. I got the day off, so I think I’m gonna start on breakfast. You want anything?”

Normally, she’s the one who makes breakfast, but you try not to acknowledge that the guilt of your impending split pushes you to take the reins this time.

Alexis crosses her arms behind her head, watching intently as you tug on some pants and states,

“You know, I’m kinda in the mood for pancakes.”

While she clears up the scattering of wrappers discarded along the couch from the evening before, you set up at the stove, and for the first time in a long moment, the feeling is golden, laced with the gentle timbre of Sade’s voice spilling from your phone as you put on your playlist and keep an ear out for the hiss of the coffee machine.

Your love is king, crown you in my heart.

The wall buzzes from the beat of a knock at the front door, but Alexis is already up on her feet, clarifying that she’ll ‘get it.'

Your love is king, never need to part,

You lift your head to offer a greeting from behind the kitchen island to the visitor and the air is choked out of your windpipes instantly. Around you, the noise and color fades to grey so all you can hear is the echo of your own heartbeat and a shrill ringing pounding in your ears, the blood rush making it feel like your whole body is palpitating.

Your kisses ring round and round and round my head,

Across the room, the air between you becomes charged and strained with the weight of the years that part you, the memories that became dust, crumbling beneath the pressure of careful fingertips.

Touching the very part of me, it’s making my soul sing,

You’re suspended in the memorial waves like cicadas in amber, before Alexis breaks the spell, glancing between the two of you perplexedly,

“Uh... Hey?”

Tearing the very heart of me, I’m crying out for more.

You reach out and pause the song, your eyes meeting the text Dina sent just a few minutes prior.

𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢

𝚓𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚊��𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝

𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗

You take in a sharp breath of air, inflating your figure before you look back up at the wide-eyed girl standing in the doorway, whispering a weary,

“Ellie…”

Ellie doesn’t quite catch it, pushing out a softer than intended explanation in the face of people looking at her like she is an alien.

"I... I came to see Dina."

You nod, slowly, unsurely, fingers curling around the edge of the countertop. When you’ve finally mustered up the strength to speak, you respond,

"She’s gonna be out for a while. You can wait inside."

You’re surprised by the harshness in your tone.

Ellie presumably is too, lingering in the doorway for a moment, and the tension in the room is palpable, so Alexis, makes up an out.

"I gotta go… grab… something,”

The auburn-haired girl’s gaze follows her as she leaves, before she quietly moves into the room, clicking the door shut behind her with a tightened jaw. She thinks that maybe if she stands still enough, it’ll be like she’s not even there, like she doesn’t even exist, but when you bring Alexis’ mug of coffee to the table by the couch for her to drink, you pull the chair out wordlessly, eyes held fast to anything but Ellie’s, before going back the stove to turn it off.

"Who's she?" Ellie wants to ask. She’s not an idiot, so she doesn’t.

Instead, she sits down quietly, watching you with weary eyes.

Ellie doesn’t look so gaunt anymore. At a certain point, she couldn’t even recognise herself when she looked in the mirror. She’s still too skinny, hair dishevelled, eyes red, and her face is littered with small scars and the remnants of a black eye, but you can look at her without wanting to break down now, or at least not for the same reasons.

You say a silent thank you to whoever’s out there looking out for her and then turn around to face her.

“I… I’m sorry, I should’ve… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t kno-”

“It’s fine, Ellie.”

A beat passes before she looks up at you, eyes wide,

“How… How have you been?”

You try to take in air without it catching as you respond, keeping your eyes on the counter.

“I’m okay.”

“Good… That’s good.” Ellie picks at a loose thread on the hem of her sleeve, chewing at her bottom lip, “I’m sorry.”

It comes out a whisper, breathless, and you close your eyes before saying,

“You know what, Ellie? It was hard at first. Really hard. I got really lonely, and I missed you a lot. I tried to make it work in that place and it just didn’t. But its been 2 whole years. I’m… I’m not the same...”

“I really am sorry. I fucked up- I should never have gone to LA. I never should’ve-”

She takes a moment to breathe, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to work through the explosion of thoughts, wishing she’d just kept her mouth shut, wishing she’d had more time to think of what to say, wishing she’d just stayed in that fucking motel room.

“I should’ve tried harder to get better…  I-I know that… it might not be possible, but I checked myself into rehab, and… and I want to try to make things right… I just- I don’t want to live like that anymore, I don’t wanna be alone anymore-”

You let her speak, the lump in your throat growing painfully as you watch her fumble sadly through her words.

“I know we can’t go back to how things used to be- I just… want to make things right and I don’t know how or what that means but-”

Alexis walks back into the room, making her way over to Ellie with a tight-lipped smile before she can finish what she wants to say.

“Sorry, had to go do that thing. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Alexis, she must’ve told you already but I’m her girlfriend.”

Ellie looks up at her with wide eyes,

“Oh.”

She holds her hand out to shake and Ellie takes it before reclining into her seat silently, staring at the wooden table in front of her.

Suddenly, it has become very apparent to Ellie that she lost her place in your life a long time ago, as a friend and as a partner, and she feels like an alien again.

She clenches her jaw.

“It’s… Uhhh, it’s nice to meet you too but I should get going. Dina won’t be back for a while so there’s… no point in sticking around.”

You think of stopping her, of telling her to sit back down, but you know this is for the best as you watch her scramble to her feet, looking like a kicked puppy, and walking back out the door.

Things will never be the same. You can’t go back to how things were, and your head knows you shouldn’t trust Ellie’s words.

But, when she sat in front of you at that table, telling you she didn’t want to be alone anymore, you thought you saw something you haven’t seen in a long time, a sliver of your Ellie. Of her old self, of her resilience, of her will, of her love and hopes.

And you so badly want to believe you’re over her, but the truth is looking you right in the eye, and some supermassive weight has lifted off your shoulders.

“Dude, was that literally Ellie fucking Williams?!”