#and since i've continued to be sick all week (end me. i've caught just about every illness i possibly could)

[benevolenterrancy]

sometimes those hills just jump at your out of nowhere

[monarchberrysblog]

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭

18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.

Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)

Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)

Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.

To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.

Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.

You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?

"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"

The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.

"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.

Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.

As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.

/

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.

The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.

The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.

A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.

"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.

You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.

"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.

As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.

The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."

"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.

"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.

"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.

He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."

Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.

His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.

His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"

Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.

"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.

"I want it…"

"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.

"I want your cock… please."

After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.

Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"

"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"

You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.

"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."

It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"

He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.

"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.

/

The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.

Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"

The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."

It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.

His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.

“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”

“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”

The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.

The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”

With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.

“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…

“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.

“Pizza it is, then.”

[wosoamazing]

Promesa Part 2

Warnings: Mentions of Surgery, Mentions of the RFEF past abuse, being sick (very end section)

Notes: Could be crap, could be good, I've been sitting on this for a while now but I've decided to post it, I don't like it but idk if that is just me or not so yeah (It’s a bit bitsy just as a warning) 1.7k words

You entered the apartment and slowly crutched your way over to the couch, Ingrid following closely behind, before she helped you sit down and lift your leg onto the couch, and said she would be right back with some pillows and blankets. However the exhaustion started to take over, and you laid back against the couch cushion, Ingrid finding herself caught up in a conversation with Mapi, along with almost the whole Spanish team over the phone, all wondering how your surgery went and if you were okay or not..

When Ingrid came back with the pillows and the single doona that was purposely bought for ‘couch recovery’, she was greeted with a very similar image from when Mapi had done her meniscus. You were now resting your head against the arm of the couch as you slept, Ingrid decided just to place the couch throw under your leg to slightly elevate it, so she didn’t disturb you, knowing you were due for your pain meds in half an hour anyway, so she would make sure to properly elevate your leg then. She took a quick photo before going back into the kitchen showing Mapi.

You sat on the physio bed nervously, Ingrid and Mapi sat either side of you on stools.

“We’ve looked at what the surgeon sent over, and have had many in depth discussions as a team and although it might not be what you want to hear, we think our best option is to be looking at a 9-12 month recovery.” You nodded wordlessly

“So week 1 & 2 we are looking at almost complete immobilisation. So completely reliant on crutches for movement, non-weight bearing. Mapi and Ingrid have said they are staying with you these next two weeks so we have no concern about that,” again you nodded wordlessly, as the thoughts in your head started to overwhelm you, mixing in with and blocking out his words.

That's the whole season. They’ve cancelled their holiday for me. Two weeks, of nothing.

“Game ready for icing”

Can’t do anything for the next two weeks

“Compex”

No olympics. No Spanish team caps. No medal

“Can you stop for a moment please,” you vaguely heard your sister say. Mapi had noticed you were spacing out and assumed it was because you were overwhelmed, she placed her hand gently on your thigh, to ‘bring you back’ before continuing to talk, “I’m sorry, I know this meeting was for us to talk through the recovery process and everything however I think we need to do this differently, do you maybe have a print out version of everything you were going to tell us today and we could all read through that at our own pace, maybe if needed we could book another appointment for next week, to talk more and answer any questions,” this time it was the physio’s turn to nod wordlessly, before he left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out before tears started to roll down your cheeks.

“Hey, no. There is no reason to say sorry. We shouldn’t have just assumed what works for us would work for you,” your sister told you as she stood up before wrapping her arm around your shoulders, “we’ll go home, you can read through it, either by yourself or with us and then we can talk. We’ll get through this together. Promesa.”

It had been 4 weeks since your surgery, and you were still using crutches. In three days Mapi and Ingrid were leaving for the USA meaning you would be left home alone, so you needed to start trying to be more independent, which started with you carrying your own breakfast bowl to the couch.

“I can take it, don't worry about it, it’s nothing,” Ingrid insisted.

“No, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you snapped back, and although Ingrid could see this going badly maybe this would be the breakthrough you needed, and with just you and her home it might be good, Mapi was good and all however she didn’t make you talk, Ingrid did, which although you never wanted to do when you were upset, you were always grateful for it later, talking prevented the build up of emotions. Two steps later there was a loud smash followed by a crash, your breakfast bowl ending up on the floor, smashing, yoghourt and muesli going everywhere, soon followed by your crutches which you dropped, before you let out a small yelp, having tensed your Quad too much, causing a pain to shoot through your leg.

-

“What’s all this about?” Ingrid asked as she sat on the couch next to you and you just shrugged at her, she had given you time to stew after placing an icepack on your knee, as she didn’t want to leave the mix of yoghourt and ceramic on the floor, “I’m not Mapi, I’m going to keep pushing, you know that, you need to talk, it’s all well and good to let the tears out but you also need to get your feelings out with words too”

“I’m useless, I can’t do anything, and you and Mapi and everyone on the team is going to the US soon and I’m going to be alone, I need to figure out how to take care of myself, do simple everyday tasks,”

“You’re not staying here, you’re coming with us, why’d you assume we’d leave you alone?”

“Because I’m a burden, I’ll be a distraction, I can’t even carry anything myself,” Ingrid looked at you a little shell shocked, “the team doesn’t want me there, I wouldn’t be any help anyway, it’s not like I can play,”

“Yes we do, we all care about you, I can promise you every single person on the team loves you, they want you there, I want you there, Mapi wants you there,” Ingrid told you.

“Can I sit with Alexia on the plane? You and Mapi deserve a break, you’ve done so much over these past few weeks,”

“I don’t know if Mapi will let that happen,”

“She will, because I want to, she likes to make me happy,” you told Ingrid before letting it sink in, “she’s been seeing the team psychologist because of me hasn’t she.”

“Not exactly, she feels guilty, she was already annoyed with herself that she had let you go without her, after everything that happened, she felt like she should’ve been there with you, to protect you, she was angry with herself at the fact that she let you go but she still wouldn’t go herself, and then you got injured and she wasn’t there, she was worried, she was upset and angry with herself,” Ingrid said almost holding back tears.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you lent into Ingrid.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, you’ve done nothing wrong,”

It had been 10 months, and you were still yet to make your return, you’d made your return to the bench but not the pitch, you were frustrated to say the least, you were back to training properly, you were doing excellently, you’d been performing better in training than you had before your injury, and yet you still couldn’t get any minutes. 

“Okay Nena, that’s it, let it out, estic aquí (I’m here),” Alexia said as she rubbed your back, whilst you hunched over the bin in the gym, most definitely having overworked yourself in your extra gym session.

You slid down the wall to the ground, trying to catch your breath after just emptying your entire stomach contents into the bin. Alexia had left, you knew she’d be back, you were just hoping it wasn’t with Mapi or Ingrid.

-

“You went too hard today, sí?” Alexia sat down next to you, handing you your water bottle with cold water in it.

“Sí, I just want to get back on the pitch, but apparently I’m not okay mentally,” you replied.

“Mental health is important though, no?”

“Yes, but what do they expect, of course I’m not okay mentally, I’ve worked the hardest I ever have for the past 10 months so I can get back onto that pitch and they won’t let me on it, I’m never going to get on the pitch, I may as well just quit now, what more do they want from me?” you harshly said as hot tears streamed down your cheeks, Alexia hummed in response.

“Go shower, I’m going to talk to Pere,” Alexia said and before you had time to object she was up and gone.

-

“Nena is coming home with me,” Alexia told your sister, as her and Ingrid walked into the locker room.

“Por qué (why?)”

“Because when she walks out of that shower, you’re going to tell her the reason she hasn’t played again yet, and when you do she isn’t going to be happy,” and almost as if on cue you walked out of the showers, “go ahead, tell your Nena,”

“I’m the reason you’re not playing yet, I told them you weren’t ready yet, that your head wasn’t in the right place, I promised to protect you and that’s what I’m doing,”

“You’re not protecting me by saying I wasn’t ready to return to the pitch, you’re hurting me, all this time I thought it was me, I thought I was doing something wrong, but it was you, you’re the reason I just trained so hard I threw up, you’re the reason I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night, you’re-” “Nena,” Mapi cut you off.

“No, I don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped before walking out of the locker room, Alexia scrambling to get your stuff.

Leaving Mapi and Ingrid standing in the middle of the locker room, Mapi wondering where she went wrong and Ingrid wondering how she was meant to handle this situation. Meanwhile you were sobbing into Alexia’s shoulder as she stood with her arms tightly wrapped around you in the middle of the car park.

[deadlyashesart]

Alastor's disappearance (Part 3)

I'm so sorry I was late to post this, I went through writers block and couldn't write anything for hours LOL. I hope you like this part, even if Alastor is a bit of an ass. The comfort comes soon, I swear. I didn't have enough time to look this over, so if there are any mistakes I do apologize.

Part 2

-----

7 years. It had been 7 years since she last saw him. What was she to say now that he was back? Rosie spent hours, days, weeks, worrying herself to sickness, and now he just sat next to her like he hadn't been gone at all. When did he return? Why didn't he come to her? Why didn't he talk to her before he left all those years ago?

Rosie turned her head to him, hoping he’d look back at her when her gaze was caught by a cute little egg boy on the ground. Out of habit, she smiled widely at him, and the egg scurried off in fear. Rosie had always been known for having a friendly and inviting smile, so this took her by surprise.

When she looked back up from the ground, her eyes locked with Alastor’s, who was smiling brightly at her. Rosie didn't know how to feel. She was beyond overjoyed that Alastor had returned safe and alive, but she couldn't help but feel anger and resentment towards him for leaving without so much as a goodbye.

Rosie smiled back anyway, although incredibly strained— at least to Rosie standards. Alastor seemed to take notice of this, as his permanent smile faltered ever so slightly. This isn't how she wanted their reunion to go.

“...Alast—”

“Welcome, Hell’s sovereign overlords.” Carmilla Carmine walked up to the front of the table, elegant as always. “I’ve invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together, you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new Extermination schedule.” She pounded the table with her fist. “We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest.”

Rosie was glad to see the other overlords wanting to do something about the extermination as she'd hoped, but she would be lying if she said that was what she was focused on right now. Despite her better judgment, she could only stare at Alastor as her feelings continued to fester.

“Alastor?” Camilla called out in slight surprise.

“Yes, I know I've been absent for quite some time, I’m sure you've all been wondering!” Alastor replied. Rosie’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. Yeah, no kidding.

“Not really…” Camilla paused. “But welcome back in any case.”

-----

The meeting was ended abruptly by Carmilla, and the rest of the overlords began to leave. Rosie noticed Alastor fall behind, staying in the office for an extra moment to talk to the little egg boy she saw earlier. She waited for him by the elevators, and by the time he left, the rest of the overlords were gone.

“Rosie! What a pleasure to see you!” He exclaimed happily, making his way towards her with open arms. “It's been quite a while, hasn't it, old friend?”

Rosie crossed her arms. “Quite,” she mumbled coldly. What was she doing? She had rehearsed this a thousand times in her head; This isn't how she wanted it to go at all. Her emotions were too much to contain now that they were finally talking face to face.

Alastor looked taken aback, his eyes widening. That was not the greeting he had expected from her. “Is something the matter, my dear?”

Rosie struggled to find the words, she wasn't sure how to lay it down gently, so she didn't. “I- You… Where were you, Alastor..?” she asked, her breath quivering. “You were gone for so long! Where were you?”

Alastor chuckled dismissively, obviously not wanting to speak of this subject. “Ahh, well, I just took a well-deserved sabbatical! It's truly no big deal.”

Rosie uncrossed her arms, clenching her fists as her emotions became harder and harder to contain. “No big deal..? Y-you left without a word! Not to me, not to anyone! Alastor, I was worried sick!”

Rosie was usually a very calm, friendly, and patient person, she was rarely—if ever—upset. Seeing her lost in a sea of emotions was something unfamiliar to her, and to Alastor.

“My dear Rosie, I do not understand why you are so emotional. I’m here now! Isn't that what matters?” His cheery tone made Rosie want to rip that smile off his face, is that really all he had to say to her?

Rosie took a few breaths, fighting back tears as they threatened to spill. “How long have you been back?”

Alastor hummed in thought. “Well, I’ve been back for a few weeks now!” He smiled, trying to bring the mood up.

“A… A few weeks? How come I only see you now, then?! You disappear for years and you can't even be bothered to tell me you came back? I thought you were dead!” Rosie yelled, resting a hand on her chest.

“I’ve been preoccupied with something important, my dear,” he answered. Seeing Rosie in this state made him uncomfortable, he didn't know what to say to her. “I've been… Helping with a project.”

Her anger slowly faded, being replaced with an intense sadness. “You couldn't have visited at all..? Not even a letter..?”

Alastor’s ears flattened against his head. “It— It seemed to have slipped my mind.” Alastor took a step closer; Rosie took two steps back. “Don't be like that, my dear…”

Rosie took a deep, shaky breath, bringing herself back to a calm expression, but refusing to look at Alastor. “I should've expected this from you,” she mumbled. “You've never been remorseful for your actions, no matter who you hurt.” She paused, gently hugging herself in search of comfort.

“I just thought that maybe…” Rosie stopped herself from saying any more. “Have a good day.” She turned on her heel and entered the elevator. Alastor watched in a confused daze as she left.

The filter on his voice crackled as he felt the guilt start to set in. “Shit…”

-----

[callsign-bunnie]

Alright alright alright....

Alejandro finds out Rodolfo has been a hybrid this whole time but for some reason, was able to hide it.

Shoutout my wife for sending me this ask when I've been having a very shit January to cheer me up, even though she doesn't like ABO. Reminder that hybrids is ABO, so Rudy is an omega even if Alejandro is still human and not an alpha. Also yes I did write smut

--

Rodolfo had been born… weird. To him, it never had been odd. His entire family was like him, and he’d gotten to know plenty of others exactly like him, too. But, when he was born, he was born with rabbit ears and a tail, and a hell of a lot of rabbit instinct.

His family had told him, when he first started to go to school, that he would have to hide his features. Presenting as an omega had been even harder, because humans didn’t have that secondary sex. To them, he was just supposed to be a boy, nothing else. He had to hide his instinct, wear scent blockers, and pin his ears down so he could arrange his hair properly.

His tail could sort of just get squished down in his pants or shorts.

Thankfully, the other hybrids had an easier time finding each other. He’d met quite a bit over his school years that he hadn’t felt completely alone, but… then he met Alejandro when he was about 14.

Alejandro was human, he was normal. Unlike other humans, when that rabbit instinct slipped through, Alejandro had never seemed repulsed over it. He’d teased Rodolfo for having to be vegan a few times, but had decked someone else and cried “It’s a health issue” for doing the same. 

They’d met in gym class. Rodolfo was fairly active, having a lot of energy, and that had apparently caught Alejandro’s interest. Alejandro had ran with a bit more popular of a crowd, too, while Rodolfo had tried to just stick with the other hybrids, and was only friends with another hybrid omega named Chuy, though he was a mountain lion and not a rabbit. A friendship which his family did not like, since in their community, prey and predators were not usually friends.

They’d stopped complaining about it when they met Alejandro, for the record. A predator animal, that was… taboo. A human? Worse.

But, Rodolfo remembered that he and Chuy had been sitting together after class, having special paperwork that meant they got their own time to dress in a special locker room due to their status, talking about a hybrid event coming up, when they’d both been startled by Alejandro suddenly standing right in front of them.

He’d grinned at Rodolfo, told him that he was really impressive while running that day. Chuy had ended up revealing that his family and Alejandro’s families were intimately connected. Around that time Chuy became obsessed with another shifter and so Rodolfo pursued Alejandro for a friendship, curious about humans.

Hiding everything from Alejandro was harder than he could ever fully convey. Trying to explain why they couldn’t go to each other’s houses, why he never was willing to undress around him, what health issues could keep him from eating meat, and why he randomly disappeared for two weeks every four months was difficult.

When omega instinct kicked in and he fell head over heels when both were 17? Even harder.

And explaining to his parents why he was risking discovery, his safety, and his life to follow some human into the military? That was the hardest.

See, he wouldn’t have to lie to the military, if he was willing to be separated from Alejandro. Chuy’s unit, they were all hybrids. He’d followed that same hybrid into the military, an alpha female named Valeria Garza, and as he’d been willing to be open about it, they’d stuck them both in the hybrids unit. 

Rodolfo, however, didn’t want to be separate from Alejandro. So he’d lied. He’d continued to pin his ears down, made excuse after excuse to hide his ears, the extra things on his body, started to take heavy black market heat blockers that made him so absurdly sick, all so he could stay near Alejandro. 

For the first years, he’d just been glad to have Chuy and Valeria, who understood. But when Valeria betrayed them, angry against the humans for their continued treatment of the various non humans hiding amongst them, and Chuy running away to join a PMC, he’d been left feeling very alone and only more desperate to stay near Alejandro, following him all the way up the ranks until he sat where he was, now.

Becoming SIC was equally a blessing and a curse. He had private quarters, he was paid well, it was easier to hide. He transitioned from black market heat blockers to good ones from reputable sources, and which helped him not be so sick all of the time. He could gear up in his own quarters, he could unpin his ears for a bit, indulge in some omega instinct like nesting, but… he was still lonely.

Alejandro was busy, at first, as was expected becoming Colonel so young and at, objectively, one of the worst times. Rodolfo’s job was fairly easy, just in charge of scouting missions and he took over paperwork, as Alejandro struggled with those things. They were still close friends, but it was obvious the stakes were different. Rodolfo was Alejandro’s best friend, but Rodolfo was still so absurdly in love with him.

He’d almost told him a few times. When Valeria found out that Alejandro didn’t know, she had used that to her advantage, threatening Rodolfo with it. “He’s human, Rodolfo… You can’t think he’ll want you in any way when he finds out. The moment he finds out what you are, he’ll toss you aside like garbage.”

“Like you did with Chuy?”

“Watch it.”

Rodolfo didn’t give into any of her demands, but the fear was there. She was vindictive, she was cruel, and he knew that one day she was going to tell Alejandro. Reasonably, he knew he needed to tell him before she did, but he was so unbelievably terrified of Alejandro throwing him away that he just couldn’t manage.

Regardless, he’d found out.

Rodolfo had been so stupid. He’d been careless. Usually, he locked his door before changing, which had led Alejandro to knowing that if the door was unlocked, he could just walk in. 

They’d just been on a very long and exhausting mission. His body was sore, made worse by the fact that he was close to a heat, which was affecting his body regardless of the blockers. It would pass without happening, but he’d still be sore and achy, and he may have been distracted thinking about the Colonel, knowing his thoughts were only made worse by the nearing event.

So, he’d just stumbled into his room, shut the door, and peeled his gear off before taking a very long and hot shower, didn’t bother to dress save for some boxers (which he hated, for the record, human males had abysmal options for underwear, why did they torture themselves?), and just curled up on the small sofa he had, planning to eat an entire carton of strawberries and watch some of the hybrid media he’d literally had to smuggle into the base.

As such, he’d gotten into the mini fridge that he had in his quarters, got out the strawberries, and then curled up on the couch, wincing and whining at an ache in his legs. Being a good runner, and being fast, meant that he was often the one chasing those that ran, which had been what happened that day. To be fair, it was fun to watch these massive narcos get absolutely shocked when this much smaller person would tackle them and take them down with ease. The military had been a blessing in the way that no one usually questioned why a special forces officer could do things that humans could not.

He made an unhappy noise at the realization that some of the strawberries were too squishy for him to reasonably eat, not willing to torture himself, and so he got right back up and went to the sink, separating the bad ones and then rinsing the good ones. The itchiness of having to keep his waistband low under his tail only added to his irritation. None of this would be a big deal if he wasn’t already tired and unhappy, but he supposed that maybe he should cut some holes in a few pairs to just stick the tail through.

He smiled to himself as he heard the door knob jiggle, knowing that was Alejandro checking to see if he could come in. At some point, he’d knocked, but that was years ago. A few excuses he could make later ran through his head, though they were all drowned out by the sudden terror as he heard the door actually open and he realized he’d never locked it.

Immediately, his heart pounded as he quickly turned and watched Alejandro  come into the room with horror.

“Hey, Rudy, I-” Alejandro stopped and stared right at Rodolfo, and his eyes moved to the top and then down the sides of Rodolfo’s head. See, Rodolfo had been fortunate that he was a floppy eared rabbit hybrid, so keeping them pinned down hadn’t been nearly as difficult as it could be.

Rodolfo was frozen, only really able to process the sound of his heart beating far too fast, before finally his flight instinct kicked in and he dashed to the bathroom, slamming the door and sinking to the ground. How would he explain this away? How would he even lie about it?

A knock on the bathroom door only scared him more and he had to really fight not to climb into the cabinet under his bathroom sink, taking a deep breath and realizing he had to face this head on. No he couldn’t, who was he kidding? No, he climbed right under the sink, and a moment later the bathroom door opened as well.

Unsurprisingly, Alejandro opened the cabinet door a moment later. Rodolfo should have known better, he’d frequently done that when freaked out in school, so of course Alejandro would know to look in the nearest cabinet. Well… not that there was really anywhere else for Rodolfo to be in the bathroom.

Alejandro had crouched down, and he frowned as he again looked at Rodolfo. Rodolfo couldn’t hold his gaze, looking away and curling up tightly. “I thought she was full of shit…” Alejandro murmured, which startled Rodolfo. “She told me that you were different, but I thought it was all a joke…”

Rodolfo knew who she was, immediately, his mind moving to Valeria. Of course she told Alejandro… She didn’t make empty threats. “I’m sorry…”

“Please come out here.” Alejandro murmured, holding a hand out. Rodolfo looked at it, instinct telling him that he shouldn’t. He first cringed further back into the cabinet, but Alejandro’s face softened and his eyes turned pleading. “Please?”

Rodolfo instantly gave in, unable to really say no to Alejandro, and so he accepted his hand and let Alejandro gently tug him out from under the sink, instinctively going to push his ears back so they would push under his hair and hide, but he was stopped by Alejandro, his wrist being caught before he could. “I want to see them.” Alejandro murmured and Rodolfo tensed but nodded, looking away and lowering his hand when it was released.

It was scarily silent for a bit before Rodolfo was startled, again, flinching back when Alejandro touched his ears. Alejandro’s movement paused before his hand moved to gently start petting them, which had Rodolfo melting involuntarily. Slowly, Rodolfo turned his head to look at Alejandro, surprised to see a sort of awe in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Alejandro asked, furrowing his brows. 

“I was scared…” Rodolfo mumbled, looking down. “To you, I was just a human male. I thought you’d think it was weird, that I’m a freak…”

“Oh, Rudy… I could never think you’re a freak.” Alejandro murmured. “Valeria told me a few months after she left. I thought she was just… crazy. You know how she is, so I ignored it and forgot about it. But you acted so afraid of her… like she knew something that I didn’t.”

“Of course she told you…” Rodolfo’s shoulders dropped. “She threatened me with it.”

Alejandro shook his head and then he did an odd thing, moving and picking Rodolfo up, bridal style, before taking him back out to the main part of the room, setting him on the couch and then sitting beside him. Rodolfo found himself bright red, trying not to get too excited at the simple touch, and unable to completely fight instinct.

Alejandro, though, appeared to be in deep thought, putting his hands together and then resting his chin on them. Rodolfo’s anxiety only grew and he looked down at his hands, before jumping when Alejandro touched his arm. “I want to know more.”

Rodolfo hesitated and then nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“What… are you?”

“We call ourselves hybrids…” Rodolfo mumbled, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. “My family are all hybrids… We have secondary sexes that determine reproductive ability, unlike humans. I’m an omega…”

Alejandro nodded. “Valeria called you that. You can… get pregnant, right?” He didn’t look weirded out, actually he looked curious. He looked… interested.

Rodolfo bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah… I also have a heat cycle but I am on very heavy blockers, so those don’t show up.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows, but nodded a bit. “I see… and you’re a rabbit?”

Rodolfo blushed dark red, nodding again. “I don’t have a specific breed… Some take pride in being a purebred, kind of like racism, but… I’m not. My family has a lot of different breeds.”

Alejandro nodded, again, and then went quiet for a bit. “It’s… a lot.” He admitted and Rodolfo couldn’t help flinching and ducking his head. “You won’t have to hide, anymore, though. Not around me, not around Los Vaqueros.”

Rodolfo blinked and frowned, looking up at Alejandro who was watching him earnestly. “I… But what if they-”

“If they have any other reaction but positive neutrality, I will have them discharged.” Alejandro shrugged. “You’re SIC, no matter what you are. More specifically, you’re my SIC. They’ll respect that.”

Rodolfo couldn’t help blushing dark red at the very mild possessiveness, nodding a bit and looking away again before Alejandro touched his chin and made him look at him, again. Alejandro smiled at him and Rodolfo softened. “Is your dietary needs… because of you being a rabbit?”

Rodolfo nodded. “It is. I can’t eat meat or it makes me very sick. I have to be careful about a lot, actually.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows and nodded. “I’ll research what rabbits can eat and make sure you have food options.” To be fair, Alejandro had already made sure there was a vegan option, but some of it, Rodolfo still couldn’t eat. 

Alejandro’s eyes seemed to finally register the strawberries, because Rodolfo watched him get up and go grab the carton, bringing it back to Rodolfo and holding it out. Rodolfo couldn’t help blushing, again, and thanked him as he took them. “How do you hide your ears?”

Rodolfo flushed. “I pin them down… It’s easier, they’ve grown into the position now.”

Alejandro made a face. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s not…” Rodolfo admitted, looking down at the carton of strawberries. “It used to hurt, really bad. Back in school, when I had to pin them for hours at a time.”

“Is that why you and Chuy had special times in the locker room? So you could hide?” Alejandro tilted his head, ahhing when Rodolfo nodded. “Well… you don’t have to pin them anymore.”

“What about when I leave the base?” Rodolfo frowned, furrowing his brows.

“You won’t. On missions, you can wear a helmet, which I’ll have made special to fit your ears. And on base, just keep them out. I’ll start taking Alvarez or Rodrigez to meetings, and when I need to leave Las Almas.” Alejandro shook his head. “You don’t have to hide, anymore.”

Rodolfo couldn’t help just melting and he nodded a little, smiling. “Thank you… For not thinking I’m a freak.”

Alejandro shook his head. “I would never think you’re a freak. I would never because…” He took a deep breath and then pushed his hands down his legs. “I’m in love with you. And I’ve been in love with you for a very long time.”

Rodolfo’s heart stopped and he found himself freezing again, only able to just stare at Alejandro in shock. “I… I…”

“I had a crush on you in school.” Alejandro admitted, his face turning red. “It’s why I came and tried so hard to talk to you. However, any time I tried to approach the subject, you would turn away. I mean, I tried to bring up homosexuality and you acted like you didn’t even know what that word was.”

“That was a weird conversation.” Rodolfo agreed, remembering Alejandro stammering over his words. He’d asked his sister, but she had said it was a silly human concept and moved on. “I didn’t actually learn what it meant until a couple years ago… I just… I thought…” Well, reasonably he’d figured out that Alejandro was trying to come out. “I didn’t think I’d fit into that for… quite a few reasons.”

“You thanked me for being comfortable enough to tell you!” Alejandro laughed, softly, and Rodolfo groaned and covered his face, now dark red. “A lot more things make a lot more sense now. I had to explain so many basic human things…”

Rodolfo whined, darker and darker red. “I didn’t know what any of it meant…”

“I can see why, now.” Alejandro nodded and he smiled at Rodolfo, softening. “I didn’t understand a lot of the instinct I seemed to have around you. Like some part of me inherently knew…”

“That might have been my pheromones.” Rodolfo winced. “Omegas have special pheromones that bring out a kind of… instinct in alphas. It must have affected you, too.”

Alejandro nodded, furrowing his brows. “That makes sense.”

Rodolfo hesitated and then looked down again. “I… I’ve loved you for a long time, too… I was so scared, though…”

“I wish you hadn’t been.” Alejandro shook his head. “I wish I could have been there for you. I imagine this must have been hard to go through, alone.”

“Incredibly…” Rodolfo mumbled, dropping his shoulders. “I had Chuy, but when Valeria betrayed us, he ran off and then I had no one.”

“I remember you were devastated.” Alejandro furrowed his brows and nodded. “He asked you to leave with him, I remember I was very jealous and upset.”

Rodolfo hadn’t taken it as jealousy, the idea not even occurring to him. He’d just figured that Alejandro had been lashing out due to what had happened, as he remembered Alejandro and Valeria had become close friends. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. It was a cultural difference, I think.” Alejandro sighed and then smiled. “So is Chuy also an omega?” 

Rodolfo nodded a bit. “You never would have had to worry about him, I’m not attracted to omegas.”

Alejandro looked incredibly relieved, which Rodolfo couldn’t help melting at. He felt all fuzzy from the idea of the jealousy Alejandro must have experienced, and he hesitated before curling up to Alejandro, melting more when Alejandro responded by pulling him into his lap. 

Alejandro started to touch over his ears, again, and then Rodolfo yelped and blushed when his tail was grabbed. He scolded Alejandro, who apologized. “Can I look at it?”

Rodolfo hesitantly stood, putting his back to Alejandro and blushing even darker when he felt Alejandro touch his tail, though it was very respectful, keeping away from the skin around it. He did tug and Rodolfo quickly swatted his hand away, the skin sensitive. “You could pull it off.”

“I’m sorry…” Alejandro murmured and Rodolfo turned back around to face him. “Rabbits are so fragile… You could have been hurt so many times in the field.”

“Not even taking into account predator hybrids and shifters,” Rodolfo retorted before stopping himself, seeing Alejandro’s eyes almost appear to fill with horror. “I’ll be okay, though!” He quickly promised.

“I’m not putting you back into the field, ever.” Alejandro shook his head, his eyes hardening. “I didn’t even know that was a risk.”

“I’ll be fine…” Rodolfo reassured, sitting on the couch beside him again. “I’ve been trained for this, I’ve been fine this entire time.”

Alejandro did not look convinced. “We’ll discuss this later.” He said, and Rodolfo winced, since that usually meant Alejandro’s mind was made up and they would, in fact, not be discussing this later. Rodolfo, though, decided he’d just push his luck, later. 

Instead, he nodded and looked down at his hands, allowing himself to just enjoy Alejandro’s protectiveness. A moment later, his face was gently touched and then he was made to look at Alejandro before Alejandro pressed his lips to Rodolfo’s. 

Rodolfo immediately melted into the contact, amazed by finally experiencing what he’d only fantasized about. It was perfect, too. Alejandro was full of the heat that Rodolfo had imagined he would be, and he grasped Rodolfo with as much desire and possessiveness that Rodolfo had indulgently wanted there to be. When Alejandro pushed him to lay back, he didn’t disobey, instead moving to lay back while Alejandro moved with him.

However, it was when Alejandro’s hands touched the waistband of his boxers that he remembered the human anatomy crash course that Liliana, his sister, had given him when he was just figuring out his feelings for Alejandro and had asked her. She was also an omega, but female omegas were apparently fairly similar to human females. So, he quickly jerked back from Alejandro, since he knew omega males and human males were not. “I um… I um…” Rodolfo turned bright red, more so at Alejandro’s apparent confusion. “I’m… I’m different down there.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows before cringing. “You don’t have like… rabbit… genitals, right?”

“No, no.” Rodolfo shook his head. “No, I’m still human down there, just… um… I have… both.”

“...both?”

“I think the human term is hermaphroditic.” Rodolfo blushed. “Though I can’t impregnate, at all.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows and then he touched Rodolfo’s waistband, again, looking to Rodolfo for permission. Rodolfo hesitated before nodding, looking away and taking deep breaths to stay calm and not become anxious again. Rodolfo’s boxers were carefully tugged down and his breath hitched when Alejandro lifted one his legs to push them apart. “I see.” Alejandro said and Rodolfo cringed, feeling very exposed. He gasped and tensed when fingers touched at his hole, blushing dark dark red. “You’re wet…”

“Yeah…” Rodolfo pressed his eyes shut, taking deeper breaths. 

Alejandro chuckled, softly, and Rodolfo opened his eyes in surprise. “Makes things easier.” Alejandro shrugged and then the fingers pressed inside, which had Rodolfo gasping at the heat that came from the action. 

He moaned when they started to move, curling and twisting, which shot little jolts of pleasure up his spine. “Hermoso…” Alejandro purred and Rodolfo’s skin warmed. “So pretty… Look at you…”

Rodolfo whined and reached up for Alejandro, pulling him close and burying his face in Alejandro’s neck, lifting his legs to wrap them around Alejandro, who seemed to gladly take advantage of the new angle, shoving his fingers deep inside Rodolfo. His fingers were long enough that he could press them against Rodolfo’s back wall, a feat that Rodolfo hadn’t even managed yet, so the sudden and intense pleasure had his legs shaking, already. 

Alejandro was a fast learner, he’d always been and it was one of the things Rodolfo admired about him. He took the reaction and started to abuse the pleasure, finding every spot inside of Rodolfo that had him crying and trembling within barely minutes. Rodolfo was soaking wet, able to feel it, and Alejandro chuckled softly, “you’re soaked. Did I do that?”

Rodolfo just whined in response, nodding and keeping his face hidden in Alejandro’s neck. He moved to bite and kiss at the skin he could reach, pleased at the soft groans he earned. 

When Alejandro removed his fingers, Rodolfo couldn’t help crying and trying to stop him, but Alejandro soothed him by petting over his ears and moving to kiss over his face. “Shh… I’m not stopping, I just need to get my jeans down.”

Rodolfo blushed and relaxed, nodding and dropping his legs so Alejandro could back up and undress. He was quick with the process, soon covering Rodolfo’s body with his own. The skin to skin contact had Rodolfo’s body very hot with need and he was quick to wrap his legs back around Alejandro, looking up to meet his eyes. They were intense, filled with a dark desire, and Rodolfo blushed, quickly looking away.

Alejandro, however, moved and started to bite over his neck, rough but not harsh, and then he was pushing in and Rodolfo was crying his name, stretched to the brim and so very very full. It was an amazing feeling, relieving like cold water on a hot day. “Fuck, you’re tight…” Alejandro groaned, resting his actions for a moment. “Tighter than I’ve had and that is saying something, all points considered.”

Pride bloomed in Rodolfo’s chest and he made a pleased sound. “You’re the biggest.” He offered, since it was true, before whimpering and whining when Alejandro rocked his hips a bit. “Don’t tease me…” He begged. 

“I’m sorry, mi amor…” Alejandro murmured, kissing over Rodolfo’s face again. “You’re so pretty when you cry like that, though…”

Rodolfo moved to hide, gasping when he was stopped and made to look up at Alejandro, who cupped his face. “Don’t look away from me. I love your eyes and I can’t see them when you hide your face.” Alejandro shook his head.

Rodolfo blushed and nodded, biting back an instinctual apology. Finally, Alejandro adjusted and then started to move, slowly pulling all the way out before pushing back inside. The sensation had Rodolfo feeling unable to breathe, already overwhelmed by pleasure. 

Alejandro didn’t stop, though, picking up a consistent, fast pace that had him hitting deep inside Rodolfo’s body, making Rodolfo swear he could feel him in his stomach. “You fill me so much…” Rodolfo whimpered, crying out at a sharp thrust. “To the brim and more…”

“Good…” Alejandro growled, quickening his pace and then grabbing Rodolfo by the back of his head and forcing him to tilt it back before attacking his now exposed neck.

At first, the action startled and caused an instinctual fear in Rodolfo, before he was melting and crying from pleasure. Alejandro’s hands gripped his hips in a bruising manner and Rodolfo hoped they would, wanting a lasting mark of this moment, of him finally getting everything he ever wanted. 

“Can I get you pregnant?” The sudden question startled Rodolfo, but he nodded, honestly. “Fuck… that drives me crazy in ways it shouldn’t…” Alejandro’s eyes darkened. 

Rodolfo moaned at another sharp thrust, pleasure curling in his stomach from the statement. He would admit he very much liked the idea, rocking his hips to encourage Alejandro to breed him. Eventually, his cock was grabbed and pumped at the same speed, which had Rodolfo thrashing. His thighs trembled at an almost alarming rate and his entire body tensed before an orgasm crashed into his body, too fast for him to really even process.

But, it didn’t matter, because he was flipped onto his stomach as Alejandro’s pace became animalistic, his shoulder being harshly bit into, and the action keeping Rodolfo suspended in his orgasm, prolonging it until Alejandro was finally jerking his movements and hot thick cum filled Rodolfo’s insides. 

Finally, Alejandro collapsed onto his back, burying his face in Rodolfo’s shoulder and nuzzling him. “Fuck…”

Rodolfo agreed, panting as he tried to come down. “I’ve wanted this for so very long…”

“So have I.” Alejandro nodded before starting to gently and lazily kiss over Rodolfo’s skin. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you have everything to be healthy and happy. I may need some education, but I promise to try.”

Rodolfo just melted, very warm and fuzzy. “I am on heat blockers… Which block my heat cycle. So… officially, I can’t get pregnant right now.”

Alejandro nodded a bit. “We’ll talk about that one, later. If you wish to come off them, we could easily just go to the ranch during your cycle.”

Rodolfo again got all fuzzy and warm at the idea, happily wiggling his tail between him and Alejandro’s bodies, blushing when Alejandro was quick to sit up and pull out. “Do that again.” Alejandro commanded and Rodolfo shyly repeated the action. “Fuck, you’re adorable, too. I’ve always thought that, too. I felt bad, because I thought I was emasculating you.”

Uh oh. New term. “I don’t uh… I don’t know what that means.” Rodolfo blushed, laying his face on the arm of the couch. “Humans have such silly terms.”

“I’ll explain it later.” Alejandro chuckled and picked Rodolfo up, moving them to Rodolfo’s bed and practically wrestling Rodolfo into curling up against his chest. “What other things can you do?”

Rodolfo blushed and then perked his ears up, like he did when he was trying to hear better. “My human ears are purely aesthetic… Just a remnant of evolution, I guess.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows. “No wonder your hearing is so dogshit, then, with them kept to your head.”

“Yeah…” Rodolfo winced and dropped his ears, again, blushing when Alejandro watched them droop. “They’re actually pretty reactive. But, it is very hard to hear with them pinned. Liliana learned sign to get around it.”

Alejandro nodded a bit and smiled. “Well, now you don’t have to. You’re so beautiful…” He murmured, reaching up to again pet his ears, which had Rodolfo melting and curling up tighter to him. “So pretty.”

“Thank you…” Rodolfo looked up at him, smiling when he was kissed, softly. He then yawned, exhausted from every part of the day. 

“Sleep, Rudy…” Alejandro pulled the blanket up over them and continued to pet him. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“We do…”

--

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[amethystina]

A health update (and a general explanation of my long Covid)

So while I've been pretty open about living with long Covid, I realise I've never taken the time to explain what that actually means for me and my quality of living. It's a phrase I toss around but I can imagine it doesn't feel all that substantial to a lot of you.

So I figured that now that I'm feeling a bit better (more on that later) I should do so. Partly because I figure it will make it easier to understand why I sometimes have to disappear for weeks on end.

So, if you're interested, feel free to keep reading under the cut :)

But be warned: It's long and kind of whiny. But also ends on a high note! So there's that.

The first time I caught Covid was around Easter 2020, long before there were any vaccines, which meant that I was hit hard. But no matter how bad I felt during the illness itself, the aftermath has been ten times worse. I've been living with my long Covid symptoms ever since, so for four years now. They worsened for a couple of months when I caught Covid a second time in February 2021, but have otherwise held pretty steady during those four years.

A lot of people experience different symptoms with their long Covid and, sometimes, they'll change as the weeks and months go by. I actually had a very interesting couple of months during 2022 when my sense of smell just went completely whack and everything suddenly smelled differently than it should. Like, I could be smelling an apple but it did not smell like an apple. It was a weird time in my life.

Anyway. My most common symptoms are fatigue, fevers, joint pain, brain fog, memory issues, incoherent speech, and lowered blood circulation.

(The latter actually kickstarted the Raynaud's syndrome I have on my mother's side so now I struggle with fingers and feet that will occasionally go white, bloodless, and completely numb at random intervals. Fun times)

The fatigue and fevers are the worst by far. For the past four years, I have had exhaustion fevers between two to five times a week. Or every single day if I'm unlucky. It's very much tied to how much sleep I'm getting, how well I'm eating, and how many taxing things I do each day. I need eight hours of sleep to be functional and anything less than that will most likely mean I'll end up having a fever before the day is over.

Unfortunately, I've always had issues with my sleep so, on most nights, I don't get eight hours even if I try my absolute best. Sometimes it's because I wake up too early and can't fall back asleep and, sometimes — because my life sucks — it's because my fever is so high that I can't fall asleep. Cue the endless cycle of too little sleep and fevers.

Because one of the main issues with these exhaustion fevers — and what makes them so difficult to manage — is that there's no way to lower them. Medicine has no effect whatsoever. Once I have it, I just have to suffer through however many hours are left until I can sleep and hope that it'll be gone in the morning. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.

And every day my energy level gets just a little bit lower and the fever a little bit higher. Some days, all I can do when I get home from work is to lie on the couch and stare at the wall because I'm too tired and in too much pain to even watch something. And, again, no amount of medicine helps.

It continues on like this for a while and, every third or fourth month or so, the strain eventually becomes too much and I fall ill. My body simply shuts down from the continued stress and exhaustion, to the point where I can barely get out of bed. And, usually, I can feel it coming. On top of the fevers, I start coughing, then get a headache, and then my nose gets stuffy. And, by that time, I know I have about two to four days before I get sick. It's so accurate that my coworkers have learned that when I give the sign, they have to tell me whatever tasks they need to be finished within the near future since I'll probably be out of commission for one to two weeks.

But I eventually recover, go back to work, and so the cycle starts again. And again. And again. And again.

For four years.

All of this has, unsurprisingly, affected my quality of life to a pretty significant degree. I can barely work, let alone spend time doing any of my hobbies. I can't really travel anymore and, if I do, I'll get sick from the exhaustion. Even the 50-minute commute to the office (which I have to do three times a week) usually results in a fever before the day is over.

This inability to travel was how I ended up missing my maternal granddad's funeral. My shitty relatives didn't tell us the date for when he would be buried until there were only two days left and even if I could have put myself on an overnight train to get there, I knew I would be in no shape to actually be at the funeral if I did. So I couldn't go.

I did go to sit with my paternal grandmother as she was dying but, as expected, I got sick and couldn't return to work for a couple of days afterwards.

I also have to skip most birthday celebrations and any events happening on weekdays since I'm usually too feverish or won't manage the required trip to get there. My life has shrunk so much I barely recognise it anymore. I don't recognise myself. I used to be one of those people who could do a million things at the same time and somehow complete all of them. I was firm, organised, and efficient.

And now I'm not.

(... or, well, technically I am — at least compared to many others — but not compared to how I used to be xD)

Point being, a lot of things have changed and I don't like it. But, with that said, I'm also well aware that I'm lucky to be alive and I'm fortunate enough to have a stable job and a roof over my head. So, all things considered, I'm still doing pretty well.

But I also can't lie and say that this hasn't affected me in a deep and fundamental way. My life has changed and, right now, I don't know if it'll ever return to what I used to consider normal. And dealing with that knowledge — and the grief and fear that comes with it — hasn't been easy. I have cried ugly, self-pitying tears over this many, many times. It's frustrating to have no control over what my body does and to constantly have to be careful of what I do so I don't exhaust myself. I am furious that this happened to me.

But, after four years, there's also a certain amount of acceptance. And while I'm annoyed by my new limitations, I try my best not to feel too sorry for myself. Instead, I try to adapt as best I can, even if I might not always do it gracefully.

That does mean that I sometimes push myself more than I should, though. Because, if I didn't, I wouldn't never produce anything. As depressing as it is to admit, everything I've given you in the past four years has been while I was sick. I don't think a single chapter I've written or drawing I've made has been untouched by this. I've become an expert at writing, editing, and drawing even with a fever.

That doesn't mean I regret it, though — quite the opposite. I think that if I hadn't had a reason to write and draw, I would have felt even worse. A lof of the time, the excitement I feel when I'm able to post a chapter or show off a drawing I've made has been the highlight of my week. It's an accomplishment.

But, that said, it's still hard. Writing in particular. It requires a level of brainpower I can't reach when the fevers are too bad. And so, sometimes, I just can't. I literally just can't.

And, back in January, as I was trying to edit chapter 39 of Who Holds the Devil, I honestly pushed myself too hard. I was so determined to finish it that I didn't let myself see just how bad I was feeling — not at all helped by how emotionally draining the content of the chapter was.

It was only once I finished the chapter and posted it that I realised how absolutely wretched I felt. Not because of the chapter itself, but my lack of compassion for myself, I guess? Because the fevers were bad, I was barely sleeping, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted. And, what was worse, I realised that I was displaying depression symptoms I hadn't seen in over ten years.

All of a sudden, I got annoyed as soon as a minor inconvenience appeared. Everything people said to me was dissected into its tiniest component. I feared that people were secretly hating me. I couldn't meet people's eyes anymore when I was talking to them. I didn't realise I was just sitting there, staring at a wall, until several minutes had already passed.

And, as the final nail in the coffin, I stopped talking about how I was feeling.

And that, right there, is my last warning that I need to do something — always has been, ever since I was a teenager. When I clam up completely, refusing to admit to the people around me that I'm feeling bad, that's when I'm about to spiral.

So, the very next day, I went to my boss and told her that I'm getting burnt out and I need to do something NOW or this was going to turn ugly real soon. Thankfully, my boss is amazing and, after a doctor's visit, I was put on partial sick leave. Right now, I'm working six hours a day instead of eight and, let me tell you, I'm thriving.

Or, well, as much as I can while still having long Covid.

I'm almost angry at how much better I feel because, if I had known, I would have done this a lot sooner. I actually have energy now! I've only had a fever about four times in a little over a month! That's insane! It used to be four a week!

So yeah. I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. The downside is that the partial sick leave is still only temporary and there are no guarantees that I'll be able to keep it. Though, if need be, I'll just have to ask my boss to rewrite my contract and change the amount of hours I work because, man, I don't ever want to go back considering how much better and happier I feel. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I feel like I've gotten my life back. It's not quite the same as before, but close enough to it that I kind of want to cry again — but happy tears this time.

And so I've spent the past couple of weeks just... living? When, before that, it felt like I was merely existing. I've been drawing a lot since that helps with the depression symptoms (which are almost completely gone, thank god) but writing has been harder. Possibly because I forced myself to do it during a time when I felt really, really bad and now I'm instinctively trying to shy away from it. But, since I know that's just my mind playing tricks on me, I'm going to give it another try this weekend. I want to write and I miss the stories I'm working on. And, hopefully, since I'm feeling a bit better, I can maybe get back to a more structured uploading schedule. But we'll see. As always, I can't make any promises.

But that's about it, I guess? I'm feeling better and, since I am, I've been doing a lot of things that I wasn't able to before (like taking walks — I take a lot of walks). And I'm still trying to figure out my new routine now that I work less. And while I still get sick sometimes (I am right now, in fact, due to lack of sleep on Tuesday night) I always find my way back eventually.

So yeah. If you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience 💜 I admit that I don't really enjoy writing things like these since it feels like I'm whining — I was very much raised not to take up space or complain when things are difficult (an unfortunate side effect to being the middle child with two disabled, high-maintenance siblings) — but I also prefer honesty and transparency. And I feel a little guilty since there are times when I've given pretty harsh responses when people question why I'm sick all the time or why I don't upload chapters as often as I used to, but without actually explaining why. So I guess it's time to be honest?

And the truth is that I've been constantly sick for the past four years. Not only due to my long Covid, but also the emotional and psychological toll of all the loss, grief, and pain I've been through. These past four years have been rough.

But I'm not saying that to gain pity or make excuses. I actually think I've done pretty well considering just how hindered I've been. I've improved my drawings so much and have written... god knows how many words. I'm honestly kind of scared to check xD But it has to be over 600k by now, maybe closer to 700k.

I think my only regret is that I haven't been able to engage with you all to the extent I would want. I wish I could be a more active and enthusiastic participant in fandom — to seek you out, hold conversations, and give you all even a fraction of the attention you've given me. I feel like I don't offer you nearly enough.

But I also know that I have to accept my own limitations. So, for now, we'll have to settle for whatever I can give, even if it's less than I would want. But I will keep on creating, trust me on that, because I'm stubborn as fuck and even if my pace is slower, I'm still determined to finish what I start.

And that's the note I want to end this on. I have suffered, yes — more so than I may have expressed to you all — but I've still managed to create some beautiful things. And while I mourn who I used to be and the fact that some of you have never known me at my best, I don't think the me I am right now is all that terrible. Do I want things to change? Yes, definitely. But do I want to change the choices I've made and the things I've accomplished in the past four years? No, I can't say that I do. I'm proud of what I've done, especially considering my limitations.

And, if you're reading this, thank you so, so much for your kindness, compassion, and support. Some of you are old friends while others of you are new, but I am grateful to every single one of you. You have made these past four years more bearable. You have made it easier to keep fighting. You have made it worth it.

Thank you 💜

[nowoyas]

Edible Arrangements 38

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: no news from the front!

Summary: Izuku's nightmare scenario, and the silver lining. For just a moment, he catches a glimpse of you among the despondency.

Warnings: none as far as I'm aware!

Word Count: ~3500

"Dr. Midoriya, it's a pleasure to meet you! Thanks for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice." Ochako smiles bright, sticks out her hand to shake.

Izuku goes through the motions of it all. "N-no, thank you!" Dammit. Stop stuttering. "Please, have a seat, both of you.”

"Thank you!" Ochako sits, and then gestures kindly to the ghost in the room. "[name]?"

[name] looks up for the first time. Izuku's not sure what hurts more—the complete blankness on their face, or the total lack of recognition. They shuffle to the chair beside Ochako and plop down.

"S-sorry for the mess, by the way! It's been crazy, taking over for Dr. Hakamada while keeping up with my own classes, so I'm afraid I haven't really had the chance to settle in to the new office yet! But I promise, it really is nice to meet you both!"

Shit.

[name]'s hollow eyes snap up to look at him, and for the first time since they walked in, he sees a flicker of emotion. Wounded.

Fuck. He should know better than to lie in front of them.

Their eyes drop to their lap, and one hand reaches out to Ochako's sleeve. "Ochako," they whisper, just loudly enough to be heard. "I don't want to be here. He's lying."

Ochako's attention snaps to them immediately. "[name], honey, I'm sure he's just stressed out," she whispers back. "It's got nothing to do with you."

"Um, i-is everything okay?"

Ochako flashes a brilliant smile. "Yeah! [name]'s just a little over-worried about you possibly disliking her. But you're just stressed out, right?"

He nods. "Yeah. All of this has been... a lot. I'm sorry if I came across as unenthusiastic, or... or anything like that. I've gone from teaching three courses to six, but I shouldn't let that affect this, now. Truly, [name]." (Don't say it. Do not say it. If this pings their quirk—) "I'm really glad to see you here."

He said it.

They're watching him with raised hackles and the kind of look you see on a puppy caught in a rainstorm. When he says the thing he didn't want to say, he feels sick to see the way their shoulders relax, just the tiniest amount.

He wasn't lying.

He should have been.

They turn back to Ochako, whisper again. He’s not sure they know how to really be quiet. "I’ll stay."

She smiles at them, then turns her attention back to Izuku. "Alright. Thank you for that. Now, this meeting is mostly just to iron out [name]'s accommodation needs and boundaries for the semester going forward. We'd also like to set up meeting times, maybe once a week in the leadup to the summer session, to help iron out the things [name] should be reviewing in anticipation for the course and prepare them to return to school. After the session starts, my boss believes it'd also be helpful to continue these check-ins, either as tutoring sessions or to discuss anything in class that isn't working well for them. I understand that you have a lot going on, Dr. Midoriya, so we'll happily work around your schedule. Unless there's something you need to work around, [name]?"

[name] shakes their head.

"Okay, great! So, Dr. Midoriya, when works for you?"

"Fridays," he replies automatically. Give him the weekend to recover from seeing them.

Every week. He doesn't just have to make it through the lectures, he has to see them, one-on-two, once a week, every week.

This is a nightmare.

"I tend to make Fridays easier days for my students!" he explains, too quickly. "This also means it's an easier day for me, and I don't have office hours that day right now, so I can easily accommodate the two of you! I-I think it'd also be best, as a way to end the week and start your respective weekends! That way, you can have the weekend to go over anything refined in any tutoring sessions, and we can start each week off with a fresh mind! How does that sound?"

Ochako nods along. "That sounds like a good idea! [name], what do you think?"

All her cheer and efforts reward her with a shrug.

"If it doesn't work for you, you can always tell me later, okay?"

They nod, staring down at their lap. Izuku makes a show of checking his schedules starting in May, looking for the best time. "It looks like Fridays after lunch are generally good for me. Does that create any conflicts for either of you?"

Ochako shakes her head. "All good here! [name]?"

A tiny shake of the head, nearly missed.

"[n-name]...?" Izuku tries, cursing himself when it comes out a stammer. Cursing himself for saying your name at all. "Is there a better time for you?"

"No," you whisper into the room. "I don't really have much of a schedule, Dr. Midoriya, so it's up to you and Miss Ochako."

Ochako, for her part, looks stunned for a moment. "O-okay! Don't be afraid to speak up if something doesn't work for you, okay?"

"Okay."

He has the sense that this has been a stride for them. The fact that that, alone, was considered a stride in Ochako's eyes has his heart twisting even worse.

"Great! So, we'll meet up every Friday at one o'clock, unless something gets in the way. Now, [name], Mina told me you were worried about how having an aide would look to your classmates, right?”

"Mm."

"So, Dr. Midoriya, I wanted to ask that you not call attention to [name]'s situation at all. Right now, they're not really able to complete projects such as presentations in any capacity. I have faith that longer-form projects can be tackled effectively with the right mindset, but given their lack of wordiness at the time..."

"Right, of course! I had a presentation planned for the class, but I'll make the offer to all students to choose between presenting as a group or writing individual papers. That should also be good to not call attention to your role, r-right? I can hand out exams to you, too, Ochako, but there won't be the expectation of you completing them." He finds himself reaching for a notebook, writing even as he speaks. "And of course, I'd be happy to provide additional help during our weekly meetings, if you and [name] would like! I know it can be really hard sometimes, so anything I can do to help, I'd like to!"

She smiles. "That'd be great!"

The meeting continues on. Between him and Ochako, and [name]'s rare affirmative noises, it becomes productive indeed, and by the time the pair of them leave Izuku's office, he's feeling much better about the semester, even if he's not feeling better about them being here at all.

On their way out the door, Izuku finds himself speaking before he can stop himself.

"[name]?"

They pause and look back at him.

For just a moment, it's you. Curiosity in your eyes. A tilt to your head, subtle and questioning. In the next moment, you’re gone, and they're staring at him blankly.

"Um, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I really do want you to succeed, and I never should have let my own personal issues give you the impression that I didn't want you here or didn't want to be here."

"Okay. Thank you."

"My goal as your professor is to help you succeed, no matter what. So please, don't hesitate if you need any help at all, okay?"

"Okay," they repeat. "Thank you."

~

The smell of the household's dinner meets Ochako's grateful nose when she brings [name] back to their apartment. It really is a great location—a ten minute walk from campus. They didn't even have to take their car. [name] doesn't even need a parking pass unless they really want one.

"We're back!" Ochako calls into the room.

Mina's voice calls back from the kitchen: "Welcome back, you two! I've just started plating up dinner."

[name] walks further into the apartment, and Ochako follows, just in case there's any last things she needs to handle before she heads home.

"Thanks for helping [name], Ochako. Since you're here, want to stay for dinner?"

Ochako shakes her head. "No, that's okay! I appreciate the offer, though. I don't want to impose."

[name] gives a sharp look. "She's lying. She wants to stay."

Mina laughs. "We've got the expert on the case. I won't force you to stay, but you really are welcome." She flashes a sly grin [name]'s way. "You'd like it if Ochako stayed, right, [name]?"

They nod. "She's nice."

At that, Ochako melts a little. "I'll stay, but only because [name] wants me to."

"Liar."

"Guilty. Is there anything I can do to help set up?"

"Have a seat. [name], your physical therapist wanted you to practice things like setting the table and getting dishes down, right? Do you want to get down some plates for me and set the table?"

"Okay."

They move like a ghost: past Mina, to the cabinet where they've been storing dishes. When they disappear into the dining area with them, Mina turns to Ochako.

"I can't thank you enough for helping them. They're already doing way better just from getting out today."

"No, no need to thank me! Honestly, I should be thanking you and the rest of [name]'s friends. It's obvious that you care deeply for them, and are willing to put in the work to help them get better."

"It's just what friends are supposed to do, right?"

She sighs, rests her chin in one hand. "You would think, but a lot of the time, we get clients who have no one and live alone, or worse, live with family members who only have their own interests in mind. It's really hard to help someone when their environment is working against them. I do my best, of course! But in cases like this one, it's much easier knowing that they're coming home to people who want them to get better for their own sake."

Quiet footsteps at the entry to the kitchen.

"Drinks?" [name] asks.

"Ochako, do you want anything?"

"Water's fine, thank you! But I can get it myself—"

"No," [name] cuts in.

Mina laughs. "Their physical therapist wants them to practice pouring drinks, too. We're working them up to being able to do daily life stuff all unassisted, and they're making great strides. Think of it as helping them with their PT!"

"In that case..." Ochako sits back and watches as [name] gets down four glasses. They're diligent, and the other two in the room watch.

"Don't forget to let Tsuyu know dinner's ready, and ask what she wants to drink, okay?" Mina prompts. They set the glass of water in front of Ochako and scamper off.

Actually scamper.

The sight has Mina's jaw dropping. "I think there's more life in them than I've seen in months."

"I thought so, too! They've really made big strides today. You should be proud! It's clear that they're wanting to get better, too. They're still not very open with their emotions, but they're trying hard! They even told me earlier today when they wanted to leave."

Mina goes stiff at that. "Did something happen?"

[name] joins them as they're moving to sit down with dinner, Tsuyu at their side. "Dr. Midoriya was lying when he said he was pleased to meet me, so I wanted to leave. But he explained that he was really stressed and that he did want to help me succeed, so we decided to stay."

Now, Ochako's not an empath or anything, but she's not stupid and she can definitely sense when the temperature in the room suddenly feels like it's dropped several degrees. The expressions on both Tsuyu's and Mina's faces mirror each other, and Mina nearly drops her plate.

"Sorry, who did you meet today?"

"Dr. Midoriya. He's taking over Dr. Hakamada's classes."

The sheer awe at them coming out of their shell for such long sentences is nothing compared to whatever the hell emotion Ochako is witnessing roll off of [name]'s roommates right now.

"Is something wrong?" they ask, tilting their head.

"No, no!" Mina says. She cringes a moment later—[name] is almost attempting to glare at her.

"Mina."

"Just—tell us about the meeting and this Dr. Midoriya while we eat!"

"I have to get Tsuyu's drink, first."

They disappear into the kitchen, and return with two filled glasses—one for Tsuyu, one for them. When at last they've sat, it's clear the roommates are hoping the topic of conversation will have moved on, but...

"The meeting went well. Dr. Midoriya looked really tired, but pretty. He had sharp teeth. He's a bit overwhelmed with taking on Dr. Hakamada's work, though."

"I can imagine," Tsuyu says. "Was he already a professor before?"

"Mhm. He said he's got nine classes now, but he still found time to have me and Ochako for meetings once a week. I think he's really eager to please or something."

Wow. They're really, really talking. "The three of us have meetings every Friday at one o'clock moving forward. He's going to be altering some course material to avoid bringing attention to [name]'s situation, and acting as though I'm a student to avoid calling attention to me. [name] has expressed that they want to blend in as much as possible, after all!"

[name] nods. Tsuyu nudges their side. "Don't forget to actually eat."

"Oh. Sorry." They turn their attention to eating, their movements robotic.

"I think this summer session will be really good for them. Beyond the activity walking to class and getting out of the apartment a little bit, it's clear this has been good for them!"

"Do you think so?" [name] asks, looking up from their plate.

"Mhm! Look at how much you're talking after that!"

"Hm. I didn't notice."

Ochako, for her part, pretends not to notice the concerned looks Tsuyu and Mina give each other. She steers the conversation away, and they keep up a good chatter until plates are cleaned and it really is time for her to go.

Tsuyu rises to collect the plates, and Ochako is right there with her, insisting even when everyone else tries to make her sit. A meaningful glance is all that gets Tsuyu to let her follow her to the kitchen, where, immediately, she's whispering to Tsuyu. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Mina leading [name] further away from the kitchen. Bless her.

"Okay, I have to ask. What's up with yours and Mina's reactions to Dr. Midoriya? Is there something I should know about?"

Tsuyu sighs, grabbing the plates from Ochako to clean. "[name] used to be in love with him."

Oh. She's suddenly very glad that Tsuyu took the plates from her. "Well. That wasn't exactly what I was expecting."

"They lived together for a while before all this happened. [name] has basically completely forgotten he existed, but he... let's just say, none of us are very happy with him. For one thing, that he's completely disappeared from their life when all this is going on."

"I... I see. That would explain a lot about how he was acting."

"How was he acting?" She arches a brow her way.

"Oh, you know... really nervous? And the fact that [name]'s quirk caught on him saying it was nice to meet us. If it wasn't their first meeting, and he knew that, I can totally see their quirk reading it as a lie! But he also just seemed... really sad."

She snorts. "After he abandoned them like that, he can be as sad as he likes. If we'd known they would end up in his class, we would have found some way to steer them away from it.”

Ochako thumbs at the strap of her bag, feeling the texture change as it runs across her thumb pad. “I don’t know the full story, and please don’t take this as me defending him, but is it possible he’s grieving this in his own way? Maybe he doesn’t know how to approach them after they—“

Tsuyu shakes her head. The plates get set down a little too hard. “You really don’t know the full story, kero. And even if you did… you don’t grieve someone’s memory loss by kicking them out of your house and making them fend for themselves financially. Among everything else.”

“Right.” She swallows down the odd feeling in her throat. “Right. I’ll… keep an eye on him, okay? If [name] seems like they’re backsliding, I’ll advise moving them into another course. I’m sure Dr. Midoriya would understand, too.”

“He’d better.”

~

Dr. Midoriya Izuku has earned far too many degrees to be anything but an expert on the subject: It does not, in fact, get better.

It doesn’t even get easier.

The first Friday meeting, he had prepared for. He’s spent the past week organizing a general breakdown of what [name] needs to review to succeed in his class. He’s sourced a book that he thinks will help, fuck, he’s even brought a book on how to take notes and succeed in college, in case they’ve forgotten that, too. He’s rehearsed his lines in the mirror a thousand times, and it took everything in him to stop preening in the bathroom mirror in the hour leading up to the meeting. He even nearly forgot to eat lunch.

He also opened himself up to making a crucial mistake.

Ochako had greenlit the move, sure, but still.

Sbeve is curled up in the chair meant for [name]. He’s been nothing short of despondent. If a cat can sulk like a teenager, Sbeve is doing it, and doing it better than any teenager could. And yeah, he gets it. He misses them, too.

More than he wants to admit, he misses them. Which is probably why he made this stupid decision to begin with. Sbeve was always their cat, after all. The both of theirs, but [name]’s in particular. Their kitten. Their baby. Sbeve stuck by his side until [name] came home, and then would leave him until they came to find him.

So, really, this is for Sbeve’s benefit. Not his. He doesn’t need to see his cat curl up on the love of his life’s lap again. And Ochako really did sign off on it!

So he waits. And he waits. And he checks the clock approximately four hundred times in the hours between 12:42 and 1:00, and eight hundred more in the hours between 1:00 and 1:08, when at last [name] and Ochako walk through the door.

The effect is instantaneous.

Sbeve is out of their chair, scaling up their leg like nobody’s business, curling up in their arms before they’ve even really registered what’s happening and meowing at the top of his lungs all the while. He’d made sure to feed Sbeve before they came, to prevent any vampire kitten incidents from occurring.

“Um,” they say, voice pitching high with confusion and life, “hello…?”

Izuku can’t contain the little laugh that escapes him. “Mx. [name], Ochako, good to see you again!”

“Sorry we’re late, Dr. Midoriya.” Ochako’s voice is cold, her expression guarded. But maybe he’s imaginging that because he knows she should hate him. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long! [name] had a bit of a rough start to their day.”

They nod, almost instinctively pressing a tiny kiss to Sbeve’s head. Izuku’s heart wrenches.

Yeah. This was a catastrophic mistake.

“Sorry,” [name] mumbles. “I had weird dreams and they threw me off.”

“Hey, not a problem! What matters is that you’re here. And that, apparently, my cat likes you.”

“He’s really soft. And little.”

“I’m considering having him trained as a therapy cat, but he has a little bit of a biting problem I’m trying to fix first. Small warning! He bites!”

“He does?” They—you—tilt your head. “There’s no way. Sbeve’s just a little guy.”

It’s the little flashes of you that get him. The tilts to the head, the bits of life that return to your voice for shreds of shreds of moments. The personality that bleeds through even though half the time, you are just a memory piloting a ghost.

Ochako seems startled by it, too, though he can’t fathom why. “[name], Dr. Midoriya didn’t… tell us his name…”

Oh.

Oh, that knocks him flat.

You remember Sbeve.

“Didn’t he?” [name] replies, and the moment, the you-ness is gone. “Sorry.”

“I-I did!” Izuku stammers. “His name’s Sbeve!”

Also a wrong move, because now they’re looking at him oddly, because they know he’s lying even if Ochako thinks he’s smoothing things over. He has to take control.

“A-anyways! Let’s get started on this meeting. I took the time to prepare some resources I thought would be helpful, and this book in particular is a great primer for my course!” He slides it across his desk, before they can call him out on his lie or Ochako can realize they clocked it.

And maybe the meeting goes well after that. Maybe there’s no more flashes of you shining through, and there’s no more slipups where they know things they shouldn’t, and Izuku doesn’t have to think about what he’s done.

Just maybe.

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[thru-the-looking-glass-caroline]

Hyperthyroidism part 2 of 2

With hyperthyroidism there are certain things I have to be aware of in order to avoid causing a flare which could make me very sick for instance eating alot of fish and seafood like crab or lobster even though I love those foods they can cause my thyroid problems to act up worse. I have to keep my dairy, soy and gluten in take to a minimum as well as certain vegetables like broccoli, cauliflower and spinach. I also have to really watch my salt intake. These are all things that could trigger worse problems and flare ups with my thyroid and potentially cause me some major health repercussions. Trying to just avoid dairy and gluten alone makes grocery shopping stressful sometimes and more expensive. The combination of hyperthyroidism and malabsorption syndrome makes it hard for my body to get essential nutrients and vitamins and this causes deficiencies, some of which can cause serious damage to my body and organs and if not caught and treated have real potential to kill me. This is why I get blood work and tests done regularly [most of the time once a week] because my potassium is a continuous concern along with my magnesium, iron, vitamin D, Calcium, and zinc. These are the nutrients, vitamins and minerals I seem to end up deficient of more often than not. Usually these deficiencies happen quickly and drop dangerously low fast for me which usually requires me to be admitted into the hospital. Some of the potential outcomes to these deficiencies are: heart attack, stroke, heart failure, breathing and lung problems, weakened immune system making a person more susceptible to infection and the inability to fight it off, cuts and wounds that do not heal, developing diabetes, kidney problems/failure, developing osteoporosis, loss of taste, loss of smell, & loss of eye sight. I would be a liar if I said these things don't scare me if I allow myself to think on them too long.

Another thing I have learned I have to do different because of hyperthyroidism is I have to consume a lot more food than most - especially since I play sports and dance and have a very active lifestyle in addition to having hyperthyroidism and malabsorption syndrome I burn off what I consume very quickly and my body has a difficult time absorbing the nutrients it needs so I eat about every 2 hours. I have to have nutritional supplement drinks prescribed by doctor multiple times a day. I also take a lot of vitamins and supplements I am prescribed.

By far the hardest thing I've had to learn to do is to be aware of how and what I feel physically. It's important for me to be able to recognize the signs in my body that could mean I am dealing with an extreme deficiency so I can get treatment. This ability is something extremely unnatural and sometimes distressing for someone like me because I prefer to live disconnected and disassociated from my body because of PTSD. My mind and emotions really hate being in my body but I have to remind myself that the alternative is potentially suffering a heart attack due to a potassium deficiency or some other deficiency and I could die. I have to choose the uncomfortable, unpleasant thoughts and emotions over disassociating from my body and putting my life at risk. It is a mentally and emotionally draining battle for me but it is worth it because I do enjoy living and there is a hell of a lot more of that to be done!

[kyrdjava]

Hello everyone. Sorry for the bad English, it's not my first language.

My name is Daria and I'm a neurodivergent queer woman, who really doesn't know where else to go for help.

I have a borderline personality disorder and a recurrent depressive disorder. Right now I'm not taking any medication or getting any therapy, and things got so bad I can't ignore them anymore.

I've delt with depressive episodes and my BPD acting up before, but only once it was so bad, and that time I ended up in the mental ward after a suicide attempt.

My episode started in spring and it only got worse since. Right now it's at the point where I'm seriously struggling with doing the most basic things; it's hard to wake up, to do my bed, to shower, to feed my cats, to makeyself a cup of tea. Cooking or dying my hair seems an impossible task. Going to work exhausts me to the point I can just stop in the corridor on my way to the office, because I just can't move anymore. I'm not even talking about losing interest and ability to enjoy my favourite things, I'm loooong past that. Now even food can't make me feel better.

I am extremely tired all the time no matter how much I sleep. I've lost appetite almost completely. I'm suicidal. Yesterday I caught myself on planning a visit to a lawyer to make a will. I'm 27, for fuck's sake, should I be thinking of this right now?

Plus, my BPD is making me super sensitive to the littlest things. I can crash and have a meltdown because a customer told me I sound like a robot. I'm constantly suppressing the tears, because when I stop for a moment and try to think of my situation, I get into so much despair, I can start wailing in public.

I have a pretty stable job (thought they cut my pay just a few weeks ago), but due to all my issues my performance is suffering severely. I work in customer support, where I have to be nice and cheerful all my 12 hours working day. I cannot. I became rude, inattentive and indifferent. My superiors already noticed that, and I'm not sure how much longer they will keep me around. Now it is the worst fucking time in my country to try and find a new job, so I really can't afford losing it.

Now to the point why I don't ask my family and friends. I have a moderately supportive family, though our relationship is kinda complicated, and an amazing best friend who always volunteers to help me. But a disaster struck us a few days ago, and now all our finances are going there. And by all I mean even my siblings' who don't even live with us anymore.

Our oldest cat is very, very sick. She has cancer; she needs a lot of medication, regular checkups and tests, blood transfusions and specialised diet.

If you ever had a sick pet, you know how incredibly expensive it can become, and I'm constantly crushed by immense guilt that I can't afford everything my cat (and my three other cats) may ever need. So everything I earn goes towards their needs, except for basic necessities like food, hygiene and transportation. I simply won't let my pathetic self spend any more on myself, when my Musya is suffering so much.

And considering how much everyone in my family has given and continues to give for Musya's treatment, I really, really can't ask them for fucking anything ever fucking again.

I also won't let myself ask my best and only friend for money, because she provides for her whole family, and the crisis wasn't kind to her either.

I also have a shit ton of debts I'm trying to pay right now, that I got in when I tried to change my job (and failed), and also because I eas really stupid towards my finances before.

So I came here. I calculated the amount needed for a single visit to my psychiatrist and roughly a month of medication (if it would be the same medication I've been prescribed before), and it comes to about 150$. I don't even know if it's possible to raise such an amount, but I've seen people try to do it on Tumblr, and I am desperate.

So, here's a link to my Buy Me A Coffee, that I made yesterday.

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/kyrdjava

I've never used it before, but I did a little research and it seems like an only option, considering the country I live in.

If I'll be able to raise the needed amount, in, say, a couple of months, I will post all the receipts for my doctor's appointment and all the meds, so you can be sure all the money was used as intended. Even if I won't, every donation will be spent on Musya's health, and, of course, I will post all the receipts also.

[gingerbravecookie]

it sure has been a year: cursor's kind of retrospective (or resume idk) on 2022

happy new years everybody,, or new years eve depending on where you live at the time of reading this

I'll go straight to the point 2022 has been one of the most mixed bag of a year I've had since i have the memory

The start of the year was kinda cool honestly,, the weather in my country was great and i was starting to get new interests,, of course also expecting you know what games near the end of it,, going back to normal class was weird and tiring but i got to make new friends and recconect with old ones i hadn't talked to since the start of the pandemic,, i got to see the coolest fucking movie at the start of april and i loved it,, i had also met kit and joined pocket home and i met good people in there shout out to everyone,, the start of the year seemed pretty good

and then things started going downhill

for starters right at my birthday i started feeling kinda weird,, specially my nose felt funny,, the next day at school i was barely on my feet,, with my entire respiratory system in shambles,, with an awful fatigue and trembling every single moment,, i wanted to go to the nurse's office but i persisted due to having to show a cosplay i worked hard on that same day

long story short the next day arrived and i got positive for covid,, i spent two weeks at home

it didn't help that i missed multiple tests due to quarantine and had to do 5 the same day,, my stress level was on the god damn clouds

in that next month i caught colds and stuff way more easily but hey,, it was june!!! pride month!!! Gay month!!!! also i had finally decided to get into artfight and was ready to make refs for my oc's

Also i had made my very own server and got to meet cool people!!! shout out to kino,, harp and jaz

and then right before winter break started and got time to work on them and the event itself my knee snapped off

yes it did hurt like hell,, i went to the hospital and luckily i didn't need surgery but it was still awful,, i got out of the thing at 3 am and i couldn't even move

I spent the first few days of july on bed,, when i finally was able to barely walk again i got to do a few art fight attacks but then my family from the capital arrived and i couldn't access my laptop for two weeks,, i was pretty bummed out i barely got to do attacks AND that i had to be almost every single day to the doctor in order to heal my leg

also i joined ballcord and then maincord as my cookie run interest started coming back to me

anyways september came along and of course it was independence day for chile,, cool date tbh,, and i decided one of the most drastic meassures i took on my irl image,, i cut my hair

"what's the great deal with that" thing is i've had my hair pretty long and i didn't like cutting it at all,, but as i grew i pretty much realized i was growing out of it and it also became more tiring after it getting tangled everywhere,, best desicion of my life tbh it felt great

I got the funni squid game 3 as well

well i also continued getting sick as a downside of things,, which was weird as fuck since years prior i only got sick at least once a year

my school situation became worse every day,, my grades started lowering and to top that. i started getting bullied. again

i had been on that school since 10 fucking years and they still fucking bullied me,, none of the teachers did shit about it

my mom got an interview at school where they took account of my anger issues and fucking guess what happened there

after years and years of asking i finally got therapy

proper therapy as i had a meeting with one of them before and he just said i was a spoiled child lmao

so news!! I'm pretty much part of the autistic spectrum,, with very minor traits according to my therapist but yeah pretty much that

she's a cool person,, she really helps me and i mean that in a genuine way

my family. well,, they're trying,, our relationship has gone two sides and sometimes made me feel kinda shitty tbh,, anyways back to topic

even if my teacher knew about the bullying it still got worse and worse from heavy verbal abuse to almost physical attacks

the school said they would talk to the bullies and me to get to an agreement and then. never talked to me again

it would all come to a close in early november,, after i snapped in front of the whole class about it

i had a massive panic attack

i had to ask my mom to come get me early and i had to talk to the teachers where it turns out. they talked to the bitches but never to me.

if i had known that then i could have told them so they would actually stop

and then they started twisting the blame onto me for staying quiet when they didn't fucking tell me shit to start

anyways,, my mom decided i wouldn't go to that school again,, i have been home ever since,, we are hoping another school accepts me in the meantime

As of social media well. i have gotten into a few projects i want to really get through,, i still need to do owed art and i apologize for making it so late. i really really do

my first comic project,, a game (RPG maker Is a bitch sometimes btw) and of course my askblogs and au's,, I'll try to get them fully moving in 2023,, i really want for everyone to see what i have to tell storywise

also i hope i stop getting sicker lmao

i guess this Is going nowhere tbh,, kind of a long resume of the shit that happened to me this year and an excuse for why i barely post decent art and ideas here nowdays (sorry),, but hey at least i met cool people

thanks for sticking around Is pretty much what i have to say

2022 has been kind of a bitch,, here's to hoping 2023 Is at least a little bit better

happy new years everyone,, happy to still be here

-cursor

[letters-between-friends]

choking on grapes

Hi Ana,

Happy new year!

We should really write to each other more often as so many things keep happening that they add up so quickly. Now I can't even figure out how to properly update you.

I got sick over the holidays but was okay exactly on New Year's Eve, so I went to watch Novak Djokovic's match here in Perth. Can you believe it? I've been watching the guy play on tv for over a decade, and I remember my countless embarrassing tweets about him especially around 2013-2016 (not that I ever stopped). I thought the match would last a few hours, but there were actually 3 matches for Serbia vs China so I ended up spending until a bit over midnight in the RAC arena. We did the countdown there and everything.

The best part is I was alone. I was sick all week so I didn't make plans - but when I got cleared that afternoon, I didn't even hesitate. I got tickets and planned my day regardless of whether I would have company or not. It was a dream come true and I was so happy.

At midnight I called B (my engineer bestie) to show him the arena fireworks, N (my lover) to greet him a very happy new year and see what he's up to, and Alecks (one of my best friends in Canada).

The next day, N picked me up so we can spend the first day of the year together. I got us grapes so we can eat 12 each - to have good luck for each month. I knew this boy was special because when I said, "Well, I figured if it was indeed lucky then we get good luck all year, but if it doesn't work, then it can't really do any harm."

He so quick-wittedly said, "It can if you choke on a grape."

So instead of going with our plan of just having the grapes slowly and talking about the things we want to do this year, we challenged each other to scarf down the grapes and eat all 12 at once. He had zero problems with this. I on the other hand, almost choked on my 10th grape. I think it's a sign that I'll have a pretty good year.

I know we also caught up on the 1st of January over the phone so it's not like you missed a lot of my updates - but it's been 10 days since and I have recently also just turned 29.

I also spent it with N, who very thoughtfully organised a dinner with me at this beautiful beach restaurant. Then in the morning made me homemade crepes with blueberries and agave syrup. I spent half of the day embracing him and the other half just giving him kisses. He even said, "You've had at least a hundred kisses today. Minimum."

He was not wrong. And these were very innocent, affectionate and really adorable kisses. I just like being with him. It's always so peaceful and relaxing. We also played Lego Fortnite and watched Scrubs while I rested my head on his chest.

For months, my friends have been calling me out about not being open or likely being too cool or too scared to take it to the next level with N, but if I'm being honest, I like where things are with us currently. Like I have zero complaints. He is the loveliest boy, and if this ends up being the most we can do with each other, then I still have zero regrets. And I mean that - cross my heart & hope to die - I love N but if this is it, I know for certain that we both will be okay.

I actually think it's one of the more beautiful things about our relationship. Neither of us are necessary for each other. We both have plenty of choices, and our pool only continues to grow as we do. And yet - we choose to stay with each other in whatever capacity we can.

I've had a lovely start to the year and one of the online things I've been doing lately, is actually being quite active on Instagram. Every few days, I would post a story or photo collage of things I have been up to, and little elements from this life I have here and I keep getting replies and messages of people saying they love my aesthetic, and how my life looks like it was lifted from pinterest.

It's not. And it's messy and rough around the edges and I have so many problems I don't even want to think about, but you know what?

I think I like this little life.

So no big plans this year. I just want to do better... drink more water, love more, generally be kinder - to myself and to others. and hopefully, not choke on any grapes.

Tabitha

[uponrightful]

Phantom Squad obsession time!!!!

What do they do when their partner isn't feeling their best (for whatever reason?)

Phantom Squad - When You're Not Feeling Good.

Warning: Mention of Murder, One Completed but not described. varying illnesses (none chronic), verbal assault (not specific), vomit?? and anything else I've missed let me know.

Omen:

You woke up feeling unlike ever before. Raw throat, stomach in knots, cold chills, and a wicked fever. After spending half an hour retching over the toilet you could only guess you had caught some virus. One that was kicking your ass. And the last thing you suspected was an early morning knock on your door. A sharp and insistent rap that you trudged through your home to answer.

The last thing you expected to see being Omen.

Before you can even pull a train of thought together, he's walking through the door with an unusual greeting.

"You have a high fever."

His grim tone and hard eyes pointed at your visible condition only makes you feel worse.

"I took medicine just a bit ago, should be starting to work right about..." you try to say; feeling that acidic rise of bile in your throat again.

You barely make it to your kitchen sink in time. Gagging and heaving with a red face and embarrassment of getting sick like this in front of Omen. So the sound of the bathroom faucet running and his heavy boots thudding back through the house towards you feels out of place.

"Cold," he warns from behind you. A cooling sensation of a wet washcloth tingling on the back of your neck followed right after. It’s pure, unadulterated, bliss. An audible sigh escapes your lips.

“How did you know?" you manage to murmur, resting your forehead against the edge of the sink.

"Your chrono," he answered quietly. Running a soothing hand up and down your sweaty back. "Installed a few things."

Somehow that thought felt extremely reassuring. Enough that you felt safe in admitting you wanted help.

"I want to go lay down..."

Without another word his gently picking you up and carrying you to bed. Going to the absolute far ends of the galaxy to ensure you're comfortable amongst your blankets and pillows. Careful to not further unsettle you.

"If you can't keep anything down, you'll need this," he states. Pulling a packaged syringe from one of the pouches in his multiple utility belts.

"Where did you even...?" your mind races through the possibilities of where he could've possibly got nat-born antibiotics. Especially when you didn’t even know you were sick until this morning.

But without questioning him any more than you already have, you pull back the covers and expose your thigh. Watching Omen's scarred hands work quickly, making the sting far more bearable. Even rubbing over the injection site afterward to help spread the raised lump of fluid. Continuing down your legs, lingering at your calves before massaging down to the arches of your feet.

"What can I do for you?" he asks.

You know he has places to be. Things to worry about. Important things. But he's here. And it's so easy to forget duty at a time like this. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him last.

"Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep?"

He does.

Omen stays right by your side. Keeping your washcloth cold, brushing your hair off your face, and walking you to the refresher a couple more times before the medicine kicks in.

For a few hours after you fall asleep, he still lingers. Going into the kitchen to clean up your sink and any dirty dishes before peeking in to check on you. Omen will essentially clean, straighten, and tidy your entire home before making one last check on you.

With your chrono recording the break of your fever, a better oxygen reading and overall healthier numbers, he will release some of that worry for your wellbeing. The Commander will give you a kiss on the cheek and depart.

When you wake up -feeling immensely better- you'll be a bit disappointed to see he's gone. However, all of your laundry is clean and put away in their correct drawers or hung up properly. Your whole house is spotless, and there is a pot of soup sitting on the stove; Simplywaiting to be reheated. You'll send him a message, not risking a call in case his working. Shyly thanking him for helping you in such a way. Promising him a full return of the favor. His reply is days later;

Anything and Everything, for you. xx

Wraith:

At first, you were feeling fine. Just enjoying your evening sitting on Wraith's lap watching him play cards. Just a few hands in though, and you felt a pinch behind your eyes. It caught your attention for only a second but you mistakenly played it off. Maybe the dim lighting straining your eyes or something else off-hand. You were far too enveloped in the game at hand to sense the impending headache brewing.

Wraith didn't collect his winnings before the pain hit you like a freighter. Halting every thought in your mind and stiffening every muscle in your body. And everything around you was intensifying it. People talking, the table lights and even clicking chips felt like a red-hot poker was driving through your skull. Try as you might to keep it under wraps, Wraith is already planning a quick victory and even quicker departure so he can get you somewhere dark and quiet. You've had bad migraines before, and after the first couple of times of being out-of-depth, he knows exactly what to do.

You almost cry out in relief when Wraith lays his cards out in full display for everyone to see his victory. But no sooner does the dealing droid call it as such, chips, credits, and a few valuable personal possessions laying at the center of the table are being shoveled by Wraith's arm into a bag at the edge of the table. You can't even stand up from his lap before he's picked up his helmet and slid it over your head. Everything dims and muffles but it's still not enough. Wraith leans in a bit, and presses a button close to the temple of the helmet: holding it in as he whispers;

"Everything's okay. I'm going to get you out of here." His other hand squeezes your thigh, "Engage pre-set one."

Suddenly everything is pitch black, and a bubble-like feeling of pressure materializes around your neck and all sound vanishes. For a moment you stiffen further. Only able to feel Wraith maneuvering to pick you up and the occational squeeze of reassurance. It’s disconcerting for a moment. Not knowing where exactly you are or what’s going on in the room you’d just been sitting in. But then you really feel some relief in your skull. A little pressure releasing and that immense sting fading. it's enough to make you want to cry.

It takes what feels like minutes to get back to the ship. That familiar smell of lived-in armor, grease, and blaster oil neither helping or hurting your still-aching head.

Wraith on the other hand, has his work cut out for him, and he's more than prepared. First, sitting you down and giving a couple of squeezes before walking away to find painkillers and water. Maybe even one of your cold packs. After gathering his supplies he's gently reintroducing himself with a gentle touch to your shoulder. Reaching down to guide your hand towards the frosted cold pack. Giving you the slow warning that the helmet needed to come off.

Dutifully you nod, allowing him to remove it. Immediately he’s bringing a glass of water to your mouth with a determined look on his face.

"Drink." he whispers, handing the glass over and pouring out a few pills into his palm.

One by one, each of your remedies is administered. Leaving both of you to simply wait. But even all of that isn't releasing that immediate pressure at the back of your head. And Wraith has one last trick up his sleeve.

"Want me to do the thing?" he whispers, raising a silvered eyebrow at you.

You nodded shortly. "Please,"

Shuffling over on the bunk, you make room for him to sit behind you. Watching him strip out of his kit and crawl into the bed, putting his legs on either side of your hips. Gently using both hands to wrap around your neck. Pressing strong fingers into those cords of muscle balled up at the base of your skull. Taking his time, working out your stiffness diligently.

"Oh my..." you practically moan, leaning even further back into the Lieutenant; Earning a warm and satisfied smile.

Wraith stays at it for as long as you need him to. Alternating between your jaw, temples, and neck. Never once stopping to complain that the medicine isn't taking effect quickly enough or that his hands are beginning to cramp. Really, he won't say much at all. Trying to limit the sound that aggravates your headaches so much. You on the other hand, can't keep quiet. The relief is just too good. And you want Wraith to know exactly how much he’s helping and how thankful you are. The sound you make are better than any worded thank you anyways.

"I think that painkiller finally kicked in." You say breathily between squeezes on your shoulders.

"Yeah?" He answers, still keeping his voice down. "I think that one was... pretty severe." Nodding, you shuffle yourself around to sit straddling his thighs.

"I believe that little helmet trick of yours really worked,” Smiling at him, you can finally ask about all of that.

"How did you come up with that?"

Right away you see color flush his cheeks and the cocky soldier you know so well suddenly can't meet your gaze. In that second, you caught him in some moment of weakness. You could only hope he wouldn't clam up on you and actually explain. Thankfully your disarming smile seemed to be enough.

"A U.V. shield and a total airlock can block a lot of light and sound when fully engaged," He began explaining. "Those bother you the most, so I made a voice-control preset to engage both settings without me wearing my helmet."

You couldn't believe Wraith would go to all that trouble. Thanking him wouldn't begin to cover it. Leaning forward, you plant a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you... I'm really sorry to have ended your night so early," You apologize. Just now remembering how hurriedly you'd left off.

Wraith just shook his head. “I couldn't give a fuck less about Sabacc or the credits. Seeing you not hurting will always be my top priority."

Revenant:

While you normally did a fair job of managing your monthly period symptoms there were occasions when birth control, cycle trackers, and pain relievers didn't truly solve the issue of your overall terrible feeling today. Your medicine wasn't helping the deep cramps. Bloating was making real pants sound revolting, and there weren't enough pillows and blankets to keep you comfy and warm. To make matters worse, you'd canceled your plans for the evening and your trusty heating pad died right when you needed it most.

Naturally, you did the only that that felt right. Meaning you found yourself holed up in your bedroom and watching re-runs of your favorite holo-show to try and distract yourself. Despite putting on your comfort-show to avoid any more surprises, you nearly leap out of bed when the door across the room opens slowly. Revealing a huge, armored, silhouette blending in with the shadows of your hallway.

"Rev -? Revenant, please tell me that's you." You nearly squeak out. There's a familiar rumbling chuckle that resonates from the figure.

"It's me, pretty baby.” His gravely voice sends a chill of dissipating adrenaline down your spine. Followed by a staggering cramp that instantly makes you curl into yourself. Groaning and clutching at your stomach.

You feel Revenant before you hear him. His hands carefully exploring your blanketed form. Feeling out just how you were curled up and sighing like he could sense exactly how miserable you felt. But his touch recoils just as quickly as it appeared. Sounds of his belts and armor falling onto the floor beside your bed follow. Dull thuds. Metallic clinking. Finally the hollow clatter of his helmet.

Without word or warning your blanket cave's temperature skyrockets with Revenant’s body heat pressed to your back. He's all touch right away. Curling an arm around your middle and purposefully applying pressure with the heel of his hand to your upper pubic bone. As well as bringing his knee up to put a thigh between yours. It's the epitome of Revenant's affection and care for you. Gentle but so very purposeful. You almost feel him trying to will away your discomfort.

"I had a feeling something was wrong." He murmurs against your ear, leaving a few gentle kisses.

You can't help but smile.

"You and your feelings will be a mystery to me..."

No matter his obvious sixth sense, he was fighting a winning battle against your pains. Making you feel totally safe and protected at the same time. It was perfect. Revenant could feel it too in the way you leaned further back into his chest.

"How long can you stay?" You ask, concerned about his unspecified missions, brothers, and time restrictions.

"Like this?" You hear a breath hiss through smiling lips and teeth. "Forever, pretty baby."

And although forever ends up getting cut short around six hours - just long enough for your cramps to subside and the two of you to get comfortable. His shrill, beeping, comm interrupts. However, you're certain Revenant has every intention of continuing infinity the second he gets back.

Ghost:

Nat-Borns get sick traveling from planet to planet all the time. Picking up viruses, bugs, and all manner of things. And as Ghost is well aware, you've contracted such an illness. By nothing short of awful luck, a local had offered you a bottle of perfume as gratitude for purchasing a few things from their booth.

It had an extremely strong but woody scent, and you were quick to spritz some on. Unbeknownst to you -and the local- one of the ingredients that gave the perfume such a long lasting scent was the sap from a planet-wide revered tree. One that the indeginious have thousands of uses for. It was even rumored to be spiritually healing.

But potentially toxic to humans.

It started with some minor dizziness. Over the course of a few hours of reassuring Ghost that you felt fine, you promptly passed out. Ghost - rightfully terrified about your heath and seeing red with rage- set out about ensuring he kept you safe with what emergency supplies were on hand aboard the ship. And with fraying patience, you awoke just long enough to recount your day. Enough for Ghost to realize the perfume had made you sick.

With help from Omen, he determined the best -really the only- treatment for you was a blend of specific local herbs and spices that could counteract against the skin-absorbed tree sap. Thankfully your exposure wasn't extreme. And not only did you regain consciousness for the duration of your treatment devised and solely carried out by Ghost; You also maintained it. Although you still felt extremely groggy. Every waking minute Ghost keeps a vigilant eye on you. Damn-near obsessing over the smallest things and worrying himself into an unmatched rage. Livid for not having kept closer tabs on you. Intent on killing the shopkeeper for "blatantly attempting to kill you".

"Ghost, they didn't know. Just like we didn't. It's not their fault," You try to soothe from your bunk. Not allowed to leave it per Ghosts staunch demands.

Stalking back and forth through the ship. The typically calm and daydreaming pilot appears more like a caged animal with blazing intensity in his silver eyes. Eyes that are suddenly locked on you with ferocity and incredulousness at such a statement. Ghost is across the room before you can blink. His hands trembling as they cup your face. Forcing you to stare deep into his eyes. To visualize his torn emotions and waning composure.

"Purposeful or not. They tried to take my moon away. Mine. It's unforgivable." He replies sternly.

Your heart lurches into your throat seeing him so... desperate. Ghost -like all his brothers - could do unimaginably cold and callous things when the situation arose. Yet this was the first time you had been affected. Mortally or not. And Ghost was on the verge of an unrecoverable furor. Still feeling the lingering effects of the tree sap, you did the only thing you could think of to try and get his mind off of it. Reaching up to cover his hands with your own, you spoke gently:

"I know I can't stop you if your mind is made up..." You paused, "But would you do me a favor first?"

Ghost frowned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You don't have to ask. Name it."

"Lay down with me for a bit, and tell me what our house is going to look like?" You answer softly.

"That's a dirty trick." A smirk appears on his face. Ghost’s demeanor shifts as he catches on to your pleading expression and tired eyes. You smile back sweetly, knowing you've caught him.

"You know it always makes me feel better..." You nearly plead. Putting on your best puppy-eyes.

Ghost sighs, unable to truly resist your well-mannered pleading, skillful temptation, and all-around talent in controlling his flaring temper. But just like clockwork, the pilot began pulling at his belts and armor clips. Controlled in his movements while stacking the plates in the crate under his bunk. Taking his time, but not dragging his feet as he pulls himself into the bunk.

He quickly gets settled flat on his back, pulling you to lay on top of him. Resting one hand on the curve of your hip and the other arm bent behind his head as a prop.

"It has to have plenty of windows," He begins, already losing himself in the dreamscape. "That way we can watch the stars at night.”

"Tell me more," You reply, hardly satiated and starving for more.

The pilot's chest rises and falls in thought of what to detail next. No doubt sifting through all of his comforting imaginations in hopes of finding the best one for you. Hardly a moment passes before the perfect image appears in his mind.

"We'll have a room specifically for you to write in. One with a chair that I can sit and watch you from."

It's at this moment you smile softly. Nuzzling even closer to Ghost, as he fully absolves himself from doing anything else. Simply lost in the gentle way you redirected his attention away from the past-and instead with what could happened in the future. How he could live it with you.

Hours after you've fallen asleep. Ghost is mere seconds away from drifting away himself when he has a wondrously puzzling thought;

Was he taking care of you? Or were you doing the healing this time?

• • •

Specter:

Normally rumors, speculation, and nasty comments didn't put a damper on your mood. Especially during a night out. At first, everything was going perfectly. Your hair had survived the trip, your make-up hadn't smudged or faded, and your dress was downright sexy. Above all, Specter was supposed to meet you at the club for a date after being away for more rotations than you cared to think about.

You grabbed yourself a barstool and a drink to calm your nerves while you watched the neon chrono on the wall count down the minutes to Specter's arrival. One drink became two and two didn't dull the sting of him being over half an hour late. And you wanted to say he was never late, but there hadn't ever been an occasion before now that involved a specific time.

"He'll be here," you told yourself.

That was an hour ago.

And in that time one party, in particular, took an intoxicated interest in you sitting alone at the bar. A man, with no easily readable red flags, had made quick conversation upon first arriving at the bar. Friendly. Or so you assumed. And he stayed that way until a few rounds of shots later when he asked you to dance.

Despite your anguish of Specter standing you up, you gave a polite decline. Certainly, nothing to get upset by. You’d been nothing if not gracious. Only he was incensed by your dismissal. Immediately resorting screaming at you. Swinging his hands around in vague threat and calling out every single bit of your person he thought could cut deep and bleed you of confidence. Your body, your personality, your sexuality, your talents. Anything he could grasp at was thrown back in your face. Including Specter’s interest and involvement with you.

After a minute or so, security droids were alerted over the sounds of loud music and club chatter. They removed the man quickly, but it utterly destroyed you. Even when the bartender asked how you were, you could hardly utter a word to your own defense. The bartender even offered to pick up the charge to buy you a ride home. “Help take the sting out of it,” They’d claimed. Yet you declined, hoping to be as little of a bother to everyone for the rest of the night. Maybe even longer.

You walked home. Teetering on too-tall heels with sore feet. Pulling shyly at the hem of your dress that kept riding up with every stride. Side-eying every alleyway and passerby as you went. Praying that after the night you'd endured no one else would be cruel enough to make it worse by harassing you, or even wolf-whistling. Wavering on the edge of tears pouring down your face, you knew you were close to truly losing it.

Mere steps away from your front door, the tears finally fall. Not because someone stopped you, or that you'd been forced to walk home alone after waiting nearly four months to see Specter just for him to stand you up. It was the relief of being able to hide inside your home. Away from that man at the club, the reality of being -essentially- dumped, and being able to wallow in your growing self-hatred. You didn't want to see a single soul.

It was too bad you couldn't spend ten minutes inside before hearing your front door squeak open on rusty hinges.

You heard the door squeak shut, and nothing more until Specter's shadowed form passed by the tiny crack in the bathroom door. And to his credit, he didn't walk in. Unusual for him. But if he had even the slightest idea of just how awful you felt and how truthfully pissed you were at him, there was no question of whether or not he could enter. Knowing he was aware of how badly he fucked up didn't help your mood either. Specter was smart. And if he had cared about you enough, he would've explained that he couldn't make it on time. Sure, you would have been let down, but nowhere near as emotionally beat-up as you were standing there; Slowly building up the courage to tell him to leave.

"Before you make this worse, you should leave," you muttered, looking down at the removed make-up smeared on your towel.

No answer came, but he didn't move.

You flexed your jaw, willing yourself not to cry anymore. Doing everything not to replay the ugly things that man back at the club has said. What he screamed aloud about you, and how you looked. How Specter had no business being with someone like you. You knew it was bullshit. But it didn't make you feel any better. Crying felt like the only option.

"If you're seeing someone else, then just save me time by getting the fuck out of here," you added as coldly as possible. Turning your back to the door to turn on the shower and try to rinse off as much of your disgust and sadness as possible. "We both know you're not going to stay forever-"

You didn't get the sentence out before a harsh hand palmed your jaw and spun you around to face an emotionless smoke-grey helmet, just bearly titled to the side. Specter stood imposingly tall. Motionless. Truthfully like a phantom that had materialized in your bathroom without anything more than the heaving rise and fall of his chest marking a sign of life. Months away really did help you forget just how scary Specter could look sometimes.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" His voice rang out cold and wavering with impatience being held back by a fraying thread. You swallowed thickly, your saliva and nerves getting caught by his hand pressing against your throat.

"I said to leave," you grated out against the pressure on your neck. Trying your best to look into that stagnate visor with as much defiance as you could muster with the scent of him filling the air and the familiar sensation of his armored body pressed to nearly every single inch of your own.

"No," he snarled, leaning down even further. Caging you in and leaving just enough room between you for your breath to fog against his helmet. "You assumed I'm fucking someone else." He corrected. You couldn't help but roll your watery, bloodshot, eyes. Leave it to Specter to correct something you said, just because he doesn't like it.

"Fine, I did. What's it matter to you anyways?" You sniff, looking anywhere but at the man crowding out the image of anything else in the small bathroom.

Specter nearly growls as he moves the both of you roughly towards the sink behind him. Whirling you around to situate you in front of him. Forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror. Nothing but a tear-stained mess in a too-tight dress, being held tight by a man who'd given zero explanation for his absence or irritation being directed towards you. His calmness didn't help either. That damned back and forth tilt of his helmet let you know he was studying your appearance. In-depth if you had to guess. Specter was always so severe in everything.

"Look at yourself," he prompted, softening his hold on your throat just enough for you to regain comfort. "Cried-out, hair’s a mess, and your pretty dress all out of place," He observed, "All of that, for what reason?"

You didn't have enough dignity to look at yourself, much less tell Specter that the -implanted- thought of him being with another woman had you in such a state.

"You want to know why it matters to me?" he questioned tensely, bringing his other hand up to cradle the side of your face. "Because someone made you this way... And it wasn't me,"

More tears rolled down your flushed cheeks at that. Of course, it wasn't all Specter. It wasn’t really him at all. You would've probably waited on him for another hour or two if it hadn't been for that guy at the bar. Immensely more patient without someone planting the thought of disloyalty in your mind. You just hated how little time it took for Specter to read your mind and figure out exactly what had happened to get you so upset.

You didn't even have to nod for him to know he was right.

"What did he say to you, pet?" His voice instantly softened, and that head tilt shifted even more.

You whimpered, not nearly strong enough to repeat it aloud, but overly self-punishing because you couldn't keep from hearing all those awful things in your head. That hand holding up the significant weight of your head gently fell away long enough for him to pull his helmet off of his head. Revealing a pitch black expression and a wave of violent anger beating against the thick wall of a calm facade.

"He said you wouldn't show... because you could find someone better than me," you sighed, staring into those steely eyes of his through the reflection. "How I was pathetic for thinking you would ever care enough to like someone who looks like me... Other things too."

Specter won't let you say another word.

He's heard -and more importantly- seen enough. He’s more than aware you've never been the type to let something like this get to you, and he knows deep down that it's his fault for being gone for so long with no word, as well. Distance always makes things complicated. Months without contact could easily be misconstrued into never returning when someone with enough influence could shift the perspective of your relationship. Especially when you were in as vulnerable position as you had been at that club earlier.

He won't stay for long after that.

You might receive a kiss or the ghost of a reassuring smile. But Specter will have re-masked himself and exited in record time. Not without saying he'll return before the hour is over. And you do the same thing you always do when he's away. Wonder just what he's doing. How it's taking a toll on him, or how gory the business of being a soldier of his caliber is. Deep down though, you know he's going out to find that man. Find that bastard who'd been so cruel and inappropriate. Teach him what a real man who has loyalty does when they disturb an otherwise peaceful condition that you both worked hard to maintain.

Specter is always lethal. There's no other way when it comes to you. It's wrong on many levels, and he knows that. So do you... But he'd never done anything without reason, and this was the first time you felt that he'd killed on your behalf. It wasn't the best feeling, but you felt safe in knowing that another woman wouldn’t ever face that man's unwarranted anger.

What you don't know is that Specter spends the whole night dealing with the mental repercussions of what he did laying next to you in bed. Holding you tight to him. Protecting you from all the evil he knows is out there. Trying to decide if what he did was for the best. Or if him being involved with you is just as bad. Laying peacefully in the same bed as a killer. Fucking a murderer. Sleeping beside a man who had rinsed the blood off of himself in your shower mere minutes ago. It's morality Specter isn't good with. But he does know that nothing feels better than being with you.

Specter will do anything to keep it that way.

TAGS: @queenquazar @justanothersadperson93 @loth-wolffe @lackofhonor@ladykatakuri @rebelmedic99 @altered-delta @saltywintersoldat @imalovernotahater@imabeautifulbutterfly@ulchabhangorm @itsagrimm @lokicat5 @rembra-legacy @taz-107

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 5

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing with parents, stereotyping?, reader's parents just being generally horrible people, angst

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 4

Next → Part 6

"This is a horrible idea," you whispered to yourself as you got ready in your bedroom mirror, unable to concentrate for more than five minutes without a small panic attack taking over.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock every few seconds. Keishin was due to arrive at your family house for dinner in about thirty minutes and with every minute that passed, you asked yourself over and over again why you ever agreed to this.

Originally, when your parents had insisted on meeting your 'boyfriend' over a family dinner, your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach; it was the worst feeling you had ever experienced . . . until you told Keishin about it jokingly and he actually agreed. Never before had you felt so sick to your stomach. Dinner was the last thing you wanted, and to make it worse, it was going to be dinner with your parents and fake boyfriend.

Shit.

More than once you had contemplated pretending to be sick or throwing yourself down the stairs, but you just couldn't go through with it. Every time you got close to backing out, a small part of your brain reminded you that this dinner might be the thing that changed your parents mind, and even though the odds of that actually happening were close to none, you couldn't give up without even trying.

So, with knots in your stomach and your palms sweating like never before, you continued getting ready for the evening and prayed that everything went as smoothly as possible.

If only you had known then that it would take much more than a prayer to save this evening.

When you heard the doorbell ring approximately thirty minutes later, your whole body froze and the thought of jumping out your second story window was starting to sound really appealing. But then, you remembered that it would be way worse if your mom or dad answered the door before you could so you rushed out of your room and down the stairs.

"I've got the door!" you shouted throughout the house, almost as if you were marking the front door as your territory and trying to scare anyone else away from it.

Standing in front of the door, you drew in a few deep, calming breaths before plastering a forced smile across your face and pulling the door open. Let the night of hell begin.

As soon as your eyes settled on Keishin, your smile faltered and you gasped. His dyed blonde hair was slicked back like usual, but instead of a headband, it was clear he had used gel. He had every hole in his ear stuffed with a black earring, and to top things off, he had showed up in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

"What?" Keishin took a step back and examined his outfit. "You said to go all out. I did."

"I know, I know . . . I just . . ." You took a moment to compose yourself. "I didn't even know you owned a leather jacket."

"Yeah, well, you don't know everything about me," Keishin smirked devilishly, proud that he still had a few secrets to himself. "Well, are you going to let me in? I kind of want to get this dinner over with."

Opening the door wider, you stepped to the side and let Keishin inside your house. "You and me both," you agreed. "You sure you want to do this? We could both make a run for it right now if we act fast."

Shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders, Keishin shook his head. "Come on, at least give your parents a chance to change their minds."

Just then, your father's heavy footsteps could be heard exiting the kitchen and approaching the front door where you and Keishin stood together. Swallowing hard, you wiped the sweat from your palms on your clothes and sent one last pleading thought up to the heavens above, hoping that if there was a great being up there, they could be on your side tonight.

This was it. No turning back now.

"If your boyfriend has arrived, Y/N, please don't keep your mother and I waiting. Introduce us." Your father rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks when he set eyes on Keishin. Sure, you had told your parents all about your 'boyfriend', which was why they had insisted on this dinner in the first place, but Keishin was a man that words couldn't quite capture. "Oh. Hello." Your father reluctantly held out his hand to greet Keishin.

"Hello, sir." Keishin shook your father's hand without hesitation. "I'm Ukai Keishin. Keishin is fine though."

Seconds later, your mother joined the three of you. She had a similar reaction as your father had and was not subtle about it in the least. "So this is the man you've been seeing?" Your mother gave you an almost pleading look, like she was silently begging you to come clean and admit that you were joking.

Right off of the bat, things were not going well.

"Well, let me take your jacket and hang it up in the closet." Your mother stepped toward Keishin with the fakest smile you had ever seen on her face.

"Oh, there's no need." Keishin hung his jacket on the banister of the stairs. "I'll just end up taking it out in a little while anyway when I go out for a smoke. It's easier this way, but thank you."

You watched your mother's eye twitch and the smile she had forced threaten to crack. "You smoke?" You could tell that both of your parents were on the brink of snapping right then and there, but they had promised to actually get to know Keishin, and despite all the horrible things your parents did, breaking promises was not one of them.

"I do." Keishin grinned. "I know, I know, it's not good for me. Y/N tells me to quit all the time so I'm trying."

You let out a nervous chuckle as both your parents turned to face you. "Shall we head into the living room?" You started ushering everyone into the other room, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Yes, let's have a seat." Your father nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Keishin, watching him like a hawk. "Can I get you anything to drink, Keishin?"

"Just a water is fine, thanks." Keishin had obviously decided not to push his luck too hard because you had been fully expecting him to ask for a beer.

With that, both your mother and father disappeared into the kitchen; your mother to finish dinner and your father to collect the drinks.

Taking the brief moment of reprieve to breathe, you looked up at Keishin. "I've never seen my parents struggle between their flawless hospitality and kicking someone out of their house so much in my life," you chuckled lightly.

"I'm a bit of a shock." Keishin placed his hand on your lower back and led you toward the couch. "I brought out all the stops in the beginning so they could have the whole night to get used to me."

"How kind of you." You sat down, slightly caught off guard when Keishin sat down right next to you and slung his arm over your shoulders. You were about to ask him what he was doing, but then you remembered that the two of you were supposed to be an actual couple and this is what couples did.

As soon as you felt his touch on you, however, your mind flashed back to that night in the park a few weeks ago. Since then, neither one of you had spoken about what had happened on that bench; a wordless agreement between the two of you that you would just move on and pretend it didn't happen.

But as much as you pretended to forget, you never actually could. The feeling of Keishin's hands on your sides and his warm breath on your lips kept you up at night. As much as you tried not to think of him like that, you just couldn't help yourself.

"You seem really nervous," Keishin leaned closer to you a whispered. "You okay?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just trying not to freak out is all."

"Hey." Keishin tilted your head toward him so he could look you in your eyes. "You're their daughter. No matter what happens, they will always love you. Remember that."

You flashed a smile. Somehow, Keishin knew exactly what to say to help you relax. "Yeah . . . thanks."

Just then, your father returned with two glasses of water in hand. Handing one each to you and Keishin, you didn't miss the way his gaze settled on the sight of Keishin's arm around you.

"Thank you." Keishin grabbed his glass right away and took a sip. You, on the other hand, let your glass sit on the coaster on the table. Despite how dry your mouth was, you didn't trust your shaky hands to pick up the glass.

"Dinner should be ready soon," your father said as he sat down in his armchair across from you and Keishin. "So, Keishin, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

"Well, currently, I spend most of my time coaching the boys' volleyball team at Karasuno high school," Keishin answered, his eyes lighting up a little when he spoke about the team he coached; you could tell he really enjoyed it. "And my family owns Sakanoshita Market and I work there sometimes."

"Sakanoshita Market," your father repeated. "That sounds familiar."

You rolled your eyes, not surprised in the slightest that your father had forgotten the name of the place you had been working at for the past few months. "That's where I work, Dad," you told him. "That's how Keishin and I met."

"I see." Your father eyed Keishin and you were surprised that Keishin didn't shrink under the cold, hard gaze like you usually did. "So do you go after all the young women who work at your family store or just my daughter?"

"Dad!" you gasped, unsure whether to tell him off or apologize to Keishin on behalf of your father.

"It's okay," Keishin told you calmly before answering your father's question. "Actually, the store hasn't seen a new employee in years. For the longest time, it was just my mother and me. We are both very grateful for all the hard work Y/N puts in to help us with the store. She is a wonderful employee."

You couldn't help the blush that tinted your cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks."

"No need to thank me. It's the truth," Keishin said before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "And good thing you took the job too, or else we would have never met."

Keishin then shot a sparkling grin your father's way, completely blinding him and distracting him from the shocked expression on your face. You knew you told Keishin to act like the two of you were really a couple, but you never expected him to play the part so thoroughly.

Your father opened his mouth to no doubt interrogate Keishin some more, but before he could, your mother began setting the table and announced that dinner was ready.

Moving over to the table, you took a seat across from Keishin while your parents sat at the ends of the table. As your mother brought the dishes of food over, you took the chance to drink some water and parch your dry throat.

The thought of having to keep this awkward conversation up gave you a headache, but thankfully, Keishin seemed to be handling everything quite well. Just as you had expected, he took everything with a grain of salt and refused to let your parents get under his skin.

You wished you were able to do that.

After the four of you bowed your heads and said thank you for the food, you dug in. At first, everyone was too busy eating to say anything. Somehow, the silence was worse than when your dad had been firing off questions rapid fire.

"This is delicious," Keishin was the first to speak. "Thank you again for inviting me for dinner."

"Yes, o-of course," your mother wavered a little but somehow managed to voice her fake pleasure nonetheless. "Y/N has never dated anyone before so we were curious as to what kind of . . . person . . . had caught her eye."

Keishin nodded, letting the not-so-subtle rude comment roll right off his back. "Well, here I am."

"Yes, here you are indeed," your father muttered under his breath. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Keishin had heard it, but you certainly had. "So, you said you coach high school volleyball. Is this a long-term thing or?"

Keishin thought for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure, honestly. I do enjoy it but I've never given much thought as to if I want to do it long-term. I started coaching because of special circumstances and just haven't stopped yet."

"Well, plenty of people coach and teach," your mother said. "You seem to enjoy working with kids, so have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"

"That doesn't sound like the worst job, but that would require me to have a teaching degree, which I don't have," Keishin responded.

"What degree did you get in university?"

Keishin chuckled. "I didn't go to university."

Oh God. Your jaw dropped and you wished that a black hole could just open up underneath you and suck you in. Out of all the things your parents hated most, people who didn't go to university were at the top of the list. They always told you that 'people who didn't go to university had no interest in investing in their future.'

Hence why they always pushed so hard for you to go the university they wanted so you could study what they thought would be best for you.

You watched your mother's face go red as she reached for her glass of wine a take a particularly large sip. "Community college, then?" she squeaked out.

"Nope, afraid not," Keishin answered, completely unashamed and even proud. "I started working for the family store right after high school."

The looks on your parents' faces that they didn't even try to hide filled you with a deep sense of shame. You didn't know how they could be so blatantly rude to someone they barely knew . . . well, actually, you did know, and that was the worst part. As much as you wished you could deny it, you had thought the same things about Keishin when you had first met him.

Hanging your head in shame, you let the suffocating silence of the dining room take over.

Feeling something brush against your leg, you looked up to see Keishin smiling at you from across the table. 'It's okay' he mouthed to you. You thought back to the time Keishin had told you he was a big boy who could take a little verbal ribbing and exhaled through your nose sharply, your mood lifting ever-so-slightly.

Keishin brushed his foot against your leg a few more times to remind you that you weren't alone at this dinner before he attempted to restart the conversation. "So what do you two do for a living?" he asked, looking to your parents.

"We are both lawyers," your father said.

You nodded and sighed. "Hence why they want me to go to law school."

"Oh, honestly, Y/N, you say that like paying for you to go to law school is abuse." Your mother shook her head disapprovingly. "Do you know how many children would kill for the opportunities you have been given and yet you want to throw them away just like that? You should be grateful."

You were about to retort but stopped yourself before you did, knowing that it would only serve to start the same argument that you had lost over and over again. No matter what you said on the matter, your parents refused to try and see things from your perspective.

It never once occurred to them that you might actually not want to be a lawyer.

"Tell me, Keishin, if you had a child who you could pay for to go to law school and they told you they wanted to pursue their dream of playing soccer, what would you do?" Your father turned to Keishin, suddenly interested in what he had to say on the issue.

"Dad, let's not talk about that now," you spoke softly, hoping to get him to change the subject.

"No, no, let's hear what Keishin has to say." Your father insisted.

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I think I would just want my child to be happy," he said, his eyes leaving your father to look at you. "I made the mistake of not following my dreams after high school and I regret it every day, so I would tell my child to follow their dreams and try my hardest to be there to support them."

You smiled wide, surprised by how emotional Keishin's words made you feel. For a moment, it was just you and him, and he was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear. All you ever wanted for was someone to be in your corner . . . someone to support you whether your choice was a mistake or not.

"Congratulations, Y/N, you've found a dreamer just like yourself," your father scoffed, breaking you out of your happy trance. "Too bad dreams don't pay the bills."

"Well, when your future is working at a family-run corner store, dreams are all you have," your mother cackled, not even trying to be quiet about it.

Your father laughed as well. "Too true, honey."

"Mom!" you shouted at her, your anger taking over before you even had the chance to think about your actions.

"It's okay," Keishin told you again, reaching across the table for your hand.

You shook your head and tugged your hand out of his reach. "No, it's not okay!" You rose to your feet, finally having had enough. "This dinner was a terrible idea. I cannot believe you!"

"If you've finally come to your senses, darling, we can send Keishin on his way and-" your mother reached for you as well but you shrugged her off.

"I'm not talking about Keishin! I'm talking about the two of you!" You slammed your hands down onto the table, shaking the dishes of food. "The whole night you have been making offhanded remarks and rude comments about Keishin while he has been nothing but the perfect guest. I'm sorry, Keishin, but I can't sit here and let you take their abuse anymore. I've dealt with it my whole life and I won't let them do the same thing to you. You don't deserve that."

"Y/N, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" your father asked, sipping his wine as if nothing was happening, which only made you angrier.

"No, father, I don't think so," you snapped back. "I think that you and Mom are being horrible and I cannot believe that this is how you're acting when meeting someone for the first time. What makes you think that you have the right to treat someone so poorly just because they don't live the same life or have the same ideals as you? You think you know what is best for me but you don't even know me, so how could you?! I would rather work at the corner store for the rest of my life if it meant being genuinely happy over being a snobby, emotionless lawyer any day."

While you vented in front of your parents, Keishin just stared at you wide-eyed, completely floored by how quickly your demeanor had changed from shy and uncomfortable to enraged and animated in mere seconds. The last time he had seen you like this was when you were going off on him and he was grateful your rage wasn't directed at him this time.

Aside from relieved, Keishin felt proud; proud of you for standing your ground.

An embarrassed look flashed across your mother's face. "Y/N, please-"

"No, just don't," you lowered your voice and took a few deep breaths. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm going to put up with your plans for me just so I can have a roof over my head. Mom, Dad, I'm not going to law school. I'm not letting you dictate my life anymore. I'm done."

Stepping away from the table, completely emotionally drained, you looked over your shoulder at Keishin. "Come on, let's go." You waved for him to follow.

Without a word, Keishin stood from the table and followed you to the front door where the two of you grabbed your jackets and got ready to leave.

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back!" You heard your father call after you as you left the house, but his threat didn't phase you in the least. If anything, never having to return to that house sounded like bliss right then.

Wrapping your jacket tight around your body to fight the cool evening wind, you sighed. "I'm sorry about that," you told Keishin as he walked silently beside you. "I should never have dragged you into my mess. You don't deserve to be treated the way my parents treated you."

"You don't need to apologize." He wrapped his arm around you once more and held you close, both to comfort you and to keep you warm. "I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?"

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes and frantically wiped them away. "I . . . I don't know," you answered truthfully. "I suppose I should just worry about one thing at a time, and since I've apparently got nowhere to spend the night now . . ."

"You'll spend the night at my place," Keishin stated plainly, not even bothering to ask if you wanted to or not. It was more like an order, but right then, you had nothing against him making decisions for you. As long as the choices weren't made by your parents, you didn't care who they came from.

"Okay," you exhaled. "Thank you."

As the two of you walked through the quiet night in the direction of the store, Keishin pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Without thinking, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him, the warmth he radiated bringing you some semblance of peace.

"I'm sorry tonight went so shit," Keishin spoke as he exhaled, smoke spilling from his lips.

"It's not your fault," you told him. "In fact . . . I don't think tonight could have gone any better. In the end, this is how it was always going to turn out. It's better I realize that sooner rather than later."

Keishin stopped and looked down at you. "That's not-"

"It's okay," you said those two magic words this time. "You remember when you told me that no matter what happened they would always love me because I'm their daughter?"

Keishin nodded.

"I wish you could have been right."

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[cheekygreenty]

His Queen - The Darkling x Reader

bitch, I think I outdid myself on this one. I'm shocked I wrote this

He hated the Tsar. He hated himself, but he didn't hate you. How could he of let this happen, he's never been a slave to his emotions. You were married, no, scratch that, you were the Queen for Saint's Sake. The Tsar had made it common knowledge that you didn't belong anywhere but the Grand Palace, in a glittering gown and a jeweled crown upon your always perfect hair sitting in front of a fire sipping on your tea. He wanted you nowhere near the action or actual Palace life. You were merely an accessory to him.

The young and innocent girl raised in nobility, who caught the old bastard's eye by fluttering your eyelashes at him, longing for his person.

Bullshit.

Aleksander could see your repulsion whenever you were in your husband's presence. The longing eyes as you looked at the doors, the shiver that rattled your spine as his sweaty hand gripped yours, or the increasing sadness in your eyes as the months went on. The jewels around your neck glistened, but your eyes didn't. Not anymore.

He had done some digging in the months following the wedding, and rest assured you didn't belong anywhere near the palace. You were scrappy, ready for a fight at all times. There were numerous accounts of you running around villages, fighting your way through pubs and inns. Your parents, the Duke and Duchess, were downright ashamed of you before your big day. You were itching to drop everything and join the First Army the second you had the chance. You were skilled in ways no noble was; you had street smarts.

Then the late Queen died and you were presented on a silver platter to the King, donning all the family jewels that never sit quite right. The King couldn't help himself, the public blamed the grief for his hasty marriage, 'he needed a companion.' But in reality, he saw what he could have and grasped you up the second he had the chance. And now you were stuck here, in a cage with no way out.

Aleksander didn't take a liking to you at the start. All he saw was what the King wanted him to see and for that, he feels tremendous guilt. He thought you to be proper and uptight and spoiled, so when you approached him the first time, franticly asking for advice about a simple state matter that was dropped into your lap by the General himself, he couldn't help but snigger at you and convey news of the stupid Queen to his fellow Grisha.

He didn't know the King treated you like a child or that all of this was new to you. I should've seen it he cursed himself, for the weeks to follow you were the talk of both the Palaces and news spread to camps on the front.

The stupid, young, ditsy girl who couldn't put together a luncheon for Ravka's war heroes was the Queen. Ridiculous.

He believed it too until he had seen you out one night when he couldn't sleep. You were deep in the forest, tending to your black stallion and in what looked like peasant clothing. You had mud on your boots and your hair was messily braided. There was a tatted punching bad tied up on a tree and another person sitting against a log, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Aleksander never made himself known, just blended into the darkness as he did best but continued to watch you eagerly. Only then did he faintly make out your bruised knuckles and the tears in your breeches.

'Again?'

'Saints Y/N no, I've got a way to go and the way you just bruised my ribs, I've a painful journey ahead of me' mused the sitting man.

That night, Aleksander sent out his best Grisha to collect information and asked Genya to tend to you, but you denied yet again (only after asking her to fix up your hands).

Ever since then, Aleksander has been observing you and getting to know you when he could, telling his Grisha it was to gather information since Genya was no longer garnering the Queen's secrets, but he felt drawn to you for whatever reason. You were the best part of his day; whether it was a simple smile sent his way or you rambling about the ways you avoid being followed around the palace, he listened intently and set the shared memories into his brain.

The General was a mystery to you. With his extremely handsome face and confident stances, he mesmerized you to the point of a blank mind. Whenever your eyes met his, it could be in a room of 60 people, rest assured you were right by his side in an instant. You had sought out his presence wherever you went and clung to it while you could.

But the King had made his opinion of the Darkling obvious, and his hatred ran deep. 'He likes to think he rides a horse above everyone else.' 'He's most unnatural.' You didn't care though. As long as he kept himself away from you and just used his words and not actions, you were fine.

You had gathered a particular kindness for late evening walks before bed, silently slipping onto the grounds of his palace, awaiting his companionship. It might have only been 40 minutes out of your day, but it was always better than not seeing him.

Ivan had pointed out that you had an air of hostility around you every time you were in a room with your husband and your heart tended to beat dangerously fast as if you were panicking. So Aleksander attempted to pull you away from him and distract you from the horrid man, and it seemed to work. He grew to like you and would miss your witty humor when he went back to the Little Palace.

Months had passed and he never grew sick of your presence, ironically he craved more of it. He tried to tell himself that you were just a part of his plan, nothing more, but things got even more complicated. He had accidentally mentioned seeing you that night in the forest, and instead of being hostile about it, you told him you enjoyed a fight or two and invited him to join you. That night, after multiple rounds of sparring and hard hits, he kissed you fervently. And again and again, until you both got past the point of going back.

You acknowledged the risk only after it happened and started to panic. You had an affair with the General of the Second Army. He seemed to be in the same state as you. But before you went your separate ways, he held you in his arms and promised it would all be ok. You believed him.

He got back to his chambers that night and his demeanor changed behind the closed doors. He was so mad. He always swore to take what the King loved most and destroy it before his very eyes, but this was a sick joke the Saints played on him. He needed to protect you, get you out of the Tsar's grip, and hide you away from any harm. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you out of danger's way and he knew it. Why did he let this happen? He knew that whatever your ending may be, you would get hurt, maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally.

You had told him of all the things the King did to you, how he treated you and paraded you around. You begged Aleksander to do something about it, to help you get out of that life and back to your old one, but there was nothing he could do and it broke his heart.

'I wish I could do something Y/N, I truly do, but I am not as powerful as you may think I am. The King is still the King' he had told you, guilt building in him.

He was sitting at his desk in his chambers now, looking out the window feeling fidgety. You were late for your evening walk, like really late. Sure it happened before, but Aleksander had a weird gut feeling that something happened. Maybe the King found out? or maybe you finally realized the magnitude of the situation and came to your senses?

He knew if the King whiffed out a sliver of what was going on with his wife and Aleksander, he would rain hellfire. He was a powerful man, the most powerful man in all of Ravka and there was nothing more dangerous than an embarrassed man's actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise he hadn't heard in a very long time, followed by the very loud thuds of falling books. The tunnel?

'ALEKSANDER?' your panicked voice reached him and triggered something primal in him. fight or flight. He and his shadows shot up and ran to you but stopped dead in his tracks, the black matter disappearing in on itself. You stood at the entrance to the tunnel, visibly shaking with anger, but that's wasn't the cause of his shock.

'Saints Y/N' He whispered, realization flooding over him like a nasty wave of ice-cold water. Your once ivory white nightgown was drenched in crimson but you were uninjured, it wasn't yours. The huge green Lanstov emerald sitting atop your left hand was smeared in red too, giving it a brown tinge.

'I need to get out of here right now.' You sounded solid and stern, the panic was long gone. The scrappy fighter was back.

Aleksander had always known what to say. But now, he didn't have a single word come to his mind and his body refused to move, he was rendered speechless and useless. This is a nightmare, surely, he prayed.

'Y/N I-I, What happ-'

'Aleksander, unless you want to see my head on a pike by dawn, I suggest you help me' You said as you moved across the room, after closing the tunnel door firmly shut. How does she even know about these tunnels?

'I once heard a drunkard speak of tunnels beneath the palaces, I tried my luck' You said answering his question without even being asked,

Your hands moved quick, shedding yourself of the nightgown and holding it in your hands as you moved to grab his black robe off a chair. Aleksander still stood there, his head whirling with so many thoughts, it debilitated him. He needed her to say it.

'Y/N did you do what I think you did'

'You know I did'

At that moment the doors burst open to reveal Ivan with an alarmed look on his face and his hands raised, ready to jump into action, most likely alerted by the falling books. But he faltered when he saw you, The Queen, covered in blood and holding a bloody nightgown in the most secure room of the Little Palace.

'Great another witness' You huffed and dumped the gown into the fireplace.

'Moi soverenyi, what is the meaning of this?'

'Ivan I wish I could tell you.'

'I killed the King. I have approximately 3 hours before somebody notices him laying in his own blood with his neck slit open' You sighed and sat down, head in your hands. This was the first moment you'd had to process it all, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.

A silence enveloped the room as the fire roared back to life, already having burnt the evidence to a crisp. Aleksander finally came to his senses, moved and grabbed a bowl of water and a cloth.

'Did anybody see you leave?' He asked as he handed you the items to wash your hands of the sticky blood.

'No. I made sure of it. I traveled through the tunnels.'

'And the King? There is no weapon near him?' Ivan interrupted.

Slowly you bent down and pulled a small dagger out of your shoe. Small but sharp.

'Give that to me' Aleksander took it out of your hands and walked out of the room while you continued to scrub the crimson off your hands.

You momentarily looked at Ivan, he didn't look mad or upset. He looked like a soldier.

'Are you not mad your King is dead?' You mused.

'He was not my King'

'That makes two of us' You were done cleaning your hands and moved to clean the ring. Should I burn this too?

'Leave it on. If things go sideways, you can buy your freedom' Aleksander returned. 'Ivan go get 2 horses and pack essentials. Get Genya too. I trust you to keep quiet.'

'Yes Moi soverenyi, Moya tsaritsa' He bowed his head quickly and waltzed out the room.

'Aleksander I'm scared now.....what have I done' You whispered. He took hold of your hand and pulled you into him. He held you tight, not wanting to let go.

'It's going to be ok. I promise. There's a small cottage down south I want you to go to. Ivan will take you. You will be safe. I will right this. I will protect you as I should've done earlier.' He kissed you deeply, letting all of the emotions flow through without the need for words.

'And what then?' You whispered against his lips.

'You be you. Perhaps go to Ketterdam. I feel you belong there... or come back to me when the time is right' He kissed you again, it was sweet and sad. A goodbye kiss. 'I love you, and even though you don't like it, you are my Queen. Forever'

'I love you too' Your hands fisted at his beautiful black kefta as tears dripped off your face.

****

That night you fled, your hair and appearance completely changed. The peasant clothes you felt comfortable in were on your back while the heartrenderer galloped beside you. Os Alta was still asleep as you sped down south, praying to the Saints that leaving Aleksander to deal with your mess was the right decision. That he would be ok too.

Ravka was shaken by the news of their dead King and the missing Queen. Some say she was dead, kidnapped by Fjerdans, and slaughtered mercilessly, others said Kerch merchants had her thrown in the Fold as she refused to give up information.

Either way, Aleksander had made sure you weren't regarded as a murderer and kept his promise to give you a chance to return to the Little Palace, to him.

Also if u can see this fic plz interact with it!! Idk if my tumblr is fixed yet and I need to make sure!!! If u were tagged and it didn’t notify you like last time, plz tell me!!!! 💓💓

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@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx

[beeirifulmer]

Since we’re doing Jude death prompt… Why not do a prompt where Jude dies during her exile while young. And Cardan finds out? And he goes insane. Or Jude ends up in a coma during her exile and Cardan goes insane and keeps her body with him?

In Exile We Die

//Warning: All Book Spoilers.

I'm so sorry this took longer than I expected it to!! I hope you enjoy this! <3

Standing up, Jude continued to fight. She had been dancing around with this faerie for a mission for about an hour now. His cat-like reflexes catching up to her the more she lost blood from the gash he gave her on her arm.

And her leg.

And her torso.

And her collarbone.

"You seem to be losing your strength, dumb mortal." The fae grinned as he stood and watched Jude wobble.

"I don't lose anything. Especially a fight with an exiled faerie." Jude slurred, her sword swung back and forth as she tried to see straight.

"I know you, Jude Duarte. You were exiled too, its a shame really. King Cardan took a liking to you for years, maybe he got sick of you. Maybe you didn't taste of honey like most fae he's had. Shame." The mention if her husband made Jude freeze and get distracted, it didn't last long for the faerie cut her throat the second he got the chance. "And I know you, Jude Duarte. Daughter of Madoc." The faerie swatted down as Jude fell, choking on her blood.

"He'll be pleased to see I've made my move after years of fighting for world domination." With a smirk, the end of the sword slammed onto Jude's head.

King Cardan sat on his throne, listening to the folk complain about the simplest of things. He didn't find a fraction of himself caring, not unless Taryn came, or his spy came to speak of Jude.

Cardan sent out a spy to watch over Jude, although he knew she would find out sooner or later. The spy has not come back speaking of how he was caught, so Cardan didn't worry.

Speaking of the spy. He ran into the throne room in a panic, and Cardan stood up to excuse everyone else in the room. "What have you got for me, Daniel."

"Your highness..I am so sorry.." His shaky voice made the mans heart drop. He refused to believe the worst, remembering the last time this happened yet he had just almost been caught by Jude.

"Did she finally catch you? I'm surprised it took her this long to realise. Tell me, what did she say Daniel."

Daniel stood up straight, swallowing back his pride as it wiped the smug smirk off my face. Perhaps she did not catch him, "no, do not tell me. Perhaps she's hurt? She's Jude, she fights through anything.

"She's dead, sir." The three words left the fae's mouth, and Cardan grabbed his sword. The faerie did not expect the King the glide across the room so quickly, but by the time he noticed he even stood up he was pinned against the wall with the Kings sword against his neck.

"What did you just say?" Cardan's eyes blazed with an anger not even Balekin had ever seen. It feared Daniel, but he did not say a word or cry for help. "Answer me, boy." Cardan's jaw clenched, and Daniel could have sworn he saw a flash of red seep across the King's eyes.

"She was on a mission a-and she didn't win. I'm so sorry your highness." Daniel looked at Cardan with a plea that his life would not end.

The anger turned into what Daniel thought as sorrow, pain. Daniel was the only one whi understood his and Jude's relationship, relationship of cruelness, wickedness, nothing. But above all.

Love. Love neither of them expressed physically other than the night he green gowned her. The memberance of it within the fact Daniel just said she was dead.

Letting go, Cardan simply walked away and left Daniel stuck in his spot. Afraid to move.

~~~

A week went by that Jude had been dead. And the land was terrified.

"The King's coming." A faerie panted as she told her friends, the rest of them moving out of the way in fear of Cardan.

The door swung open with a banging thud, Cardan's boots clicking on the ground rapidly. "Your highness?" A young fae stopped the King, everyone in the room tensing up. Cardan looked to her, not saying a word as he silently urged her to talk. "We found this," the girl slowly and hesitantly lifted the sword in its covering, and Cardan knew exactly what it was.

Nightfell.

Cardan felt his blood boil again as he slowly took the sword from her hands. "Unless you want this sword to go through your neck, I suggest you run." He threatened, the girl darting out and far away from Cardan.

Continuing to walk, he felt no need to condone in violence, since everyone steered clear out of his way. Nightfell now sat on his hip and his gaze seemed as if he could not see, but could imagine the whole world of Faerie crashing and burning.

Cardan finally entered his hall, noticing Jude's sisters standing up at his presence. "Cardan we need to talk." Taryn spoke lowly.

"We need to talk of nothing." The King did not stop as he walked down the hall, hearing the two's dresses pick up to follow Cardan.

"Cardan Greenbriar stop." As much as he wished he deep down didn't want to know what would happen if he didn't, he stopped when Vivienne instructed him sternly. Her face now came into his view and he stared at her in the darkest murder look.

"You are out of line."

"I am out of line?" Cardan started, "says the traitor who chose to live in the mortal world with her mortal girlfriend instead of helping her sister. And who do you think you are ordering your king?"

"I am Jude and Oak's sister. Do not try and royalty talk me. You are beyond out of line, killing people, making them scared of you. What is your issue?"

"I do not need to respond to you. Nothing you say will change my views on this world and how I rule it."

"You're acting like Balekin, Cardan.." Taryn's small voice rang through Cardan's ears. His gaze turned to fall upon the girl that looked identical to his lover, his wife, his Queen.

"What?"  The King's voice was soft as if taken aback by what was just told. Once it was repeated, Cardan could only hear and see Jude looking down on him with a saddened face. His back lingered with the stings of his brother, his heart clenched remembering everytime he heard Balekin degrade him in the worst ways possible. Perhaps now Cardan understood the anger Jude felt being compared to her father.

But the two of them had the same thing in common: They both proved everyone wrong and became the King and Queen of Elfhame. And now Cardan was abusing that power.

Without another word, Cardan left. The sisters let him, hoping they got it through his head.

Cardan slammed himself into a room, his breathing picking up unaware of what was happening to himself. Falling to his knees, the soil softened the blow as he took a strangled breath.

"I've disappointed you, haven't I? You'd have my head if I acted this way during your living era." Cardan scoffed to himself as he felt the guilt of all he's done since he heard the news. "I'm so sorry, my darling God. I'm so sorry.."

The King then sobbed into his knees, saying nothing else to his wife as he looked up. The tree that sprouted out of the room seemed to feel like it stared at him, his Queen's dead body underneath it living with the roots.

"I missed you, Jude.."