#e there to make her seem like a normal person who fell in too deep in comparison

[arolesbianism]

I Really need to properly draw Christopher at some point but everytime I want to I just look at her in game sprite and weep for her truest form has already been achieved. What's even the point. This is her in the flesh.

[winteranc156]

Intricate Brocade Of This Happiness

Wrote a thing for Anne with an E fandom and the rarepare Marilla Cuthbert/Muriel Stacy. My wife and I fell in love with the show and the pairing when we watched. She very sneakily said they definitely needed more sex. So here it is, for my wife, some fluffy smut.

(can also be found on here on AO3)

It happens after Anne has gone off to school.

The first time Marilla knocks on her door on a Saturday morning, Muriel isn’t actually home. She’s cresting the hill when she sees Marilla standing, waiting at her door. Muriel’s heart does a funny thing in her chest, and she hastens her steps.

“Good morning,” she says catching her breath as she stops next to Marilla, hand extending without thought to clasp Marilla’s forearm as a surrogate for a hug. She immediately feels it’s too familiar, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Good morning,” Marilla replies, looking at where they’re connected. Muriel can’t be sure if it’s the cold or her touch that makes the color rise on Marilla’s cheeks. But Marilla doesn’t comment nor shrug out of the light touch. Instead, she looks over Muriel’s shoulder to where she’d come from, “I didn’t mean to intrude on your day.”

“Nonsense,” Muriel dismisses with a smile, pleased that Marilla is here, “please come in.” She opens the door widely. She flits around the space trying to cover up some of her ongoing projects that she will come back to and finish eventually.

Marilla is watching her with a small smile. “You’ve settled quite nicely,” she says into the space and Muriel hears you don’t have to change your space on my account. 

She stops and smiles at Marilla, grateful. “Would you like some tea?” 

A nod and they’re settled at the kitchen table waiting on the tea to finish steeping. 

“I miss Anne,” Marilla divulges into the quietness of them settling around each other, eyes not quite looking at her, fingers worrying.

It’s delicate and vulnerable and it makes Muriel’s heart beat loudly in her chest to know that Marilla is trusting her with it. She reaches out to clasp Marilla’s hand. “I miss her, too.”

Blue eyes meet hers and they sit in the moment. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The second Saturday Marilla knocks on Muriel’s door she is less nervous. But her heart still flutters in her chest. Not having Anne as an excuse makes her feel vulnerable, but it also makes this feel more real. More solid. More personal.

Murial opens the door and her smile at seeing her makes warmth spread across Marilla’s chest. “Marilla,” she says, her hand reaching out to clasp her arm, “come in.”

The heat from Muriel’s hand burns through the fabric of her shirt and she feels the touch everywhere. She hasn’t, throughout most of her life, been someone who sought touch, but she finds that Muriel’s touch isn’t only tolerated but welcome.

“I brought scones,” she says once inside the threshold.

Muriel’s face softens. “Thank you.” 

Sparks fly up Marilla’s arms from where their fingers touch as Muriel takes the basket. She clears her throat, ignoring the blush that’s crawling up her face. 

“How was your week at school?” Marilla asks, moving with Muriel deeper into her home.

Muriel dives animatedly into a description of the highs and lows of the week. And Marilla is happy to sit and watch her set about making tea all the while talking with her hands.

She settles into the comfort of what shouldn’t be so familiar but is. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The third Saturday, Muriel is expecting the knock. A jolt of excitement still goes through her when she hears it.

She smooths out her trousers and adjusts her hair before striding to the door. She takes a deep breath and opens the door.

The sight of Marilla takes her breath away. Her hair isn’t in her normal austere bun but layered softly around her face. And she’s not in her Sunday best but the dress she’s wearing seems to be one Muriel hasn’t seen before. The color and cut suit her. “Marilla,” she knows she’s staring, “you look wonderful.”

The blush that colors her face at her words makes Muriel realize her regard may be unwelcome. But Marilla steps into her home and reaches to clasp her arm. The touch burns through her in a lovely way, which she promptly ignores. “Thank you,” Marilla says through a small smile.

“Let me pour us some tea,” Muriel says, leading Marilla to her usual spot, “then I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.”

As the seasons change slowly one to another and then circling back, they meander toward a deep, solid friendship. 

It happens over tea and walks and conversations that turn to topics they only feel safe divulging to each other. 

It’s easy and true. 

And Muriel tries not to think too much about the way her heart trips over itself when she’s with Marilla. About how their touches have increased as they have both gotten more comfortable with each other. About how she wants but can’t exactly name what, just that it involves Marilla.

So, as fall wends into winter, she lets herself love Marilla as best she knows how.

And accepts the wonderful gift of friendship Marilla has given her.

~~~~~~~~~~

They walk aimlessly. 

Marilla feels gentle amusement. She let herself be swept up in Muriel’s excited and exuberant it will be fun! It wasn’t difficult to give in; she always enjoys spending time with Muriel. She doesn’t try to hide that fact from herself anymore.

Muriel seems unbothered by their lack of determined destination. Marilla enjoys indulging in the opportunity to spend time with her. 

Their arms and hands brush occasionally. Marilla’s skin burns wherever Muriel touches. Her heart beats faster after each accidental touch, but she doesn’t move away; she doesn’t widen the space between them. Her fingers itch to slip into Muriel’s hand and erase the distance between them. But she doesn’t. Instead, her fingers twitch after each touch, and she keeps walking.

Muriel’s blue eyes catch hers, and they hold her transfixed in a moment that stretches impossibly between them. There’s a conversation they've been having with their eyes in all their silences. And Marilla can’t look away. She doesn’t want to. She wants to make sure Muriel knows. Knows what, she’s not sure, but it’s important nonetheless.

“So, a cold, meandering walk, is it?” Marilla finally says, blinking slowly, amusement coloring her words.

Muriel shakes her head. “Come on.” Her smile is wide and happy as she offers Marilla her arm. The day loses its chill with Muriel pressed against her. 

They walk in comfortable silence. And it is good to be with Muriel like this. Marilla enjoys indulging in the opportunity to spend time with her. Muriel’s proximity makes her heart beat faster, but she doesn’t move away, she doesn’t widen the space between them, she doesn't let go.

“If we didn’t have such a long acquaintance and several months of close friendship,” Marilla breaks the silence, “I would think you were taking me deeper into the woods with some dark intention.”

A surprised laugh leaves Muriel in a puff of sound. “I wouldn’t dare think you so easily taken.” Muriel holds Marilla closer. 

Muriel slips her hand down into Marilla’s and intertwines their fingers. Muriel’s hand is warm in hers, and Marilla tries not to overthink or overanalyze what it means when neither of them lets go. 

The comfort and easiness of them together has always dispelled any awkwardness. They slip into this new space of familiarity as easily as they have every step thus far. 

They make it through the trees and Marilla is charmed by the picnic spread waiting for them near the cliff edge overlooking the ocean. “When did you have time for this?”

Muriel’s eyes twinkle, and she smiles widely, her happiness evident. “I must maintain some mystery. Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“I could never,” Marilla says softly, delicately, like she’s revealing a secret, “I find you endlessly fascinating.”

Muriel squeezes her hand, the wind almost taking the and I you she whispers back. 

Marilla feels the rush of affection well in her chest and allows herself to be led to their picnic.

They sit there a little too closely, staring at each other a little too softly, in a moment that keeps stretching. Marilla’s mind races and she sees a spark of some unspoken thing in Muriel’s eyes. And she almost, almost closes the too-small space between them. She can feel the muscles in her back contracting to bend across the inches between them.

But the moment is abruptly broken when Muriel pulls back and stands. A warm blush sits high on her cheekbones, and she looks out to the horizon and talks of the beauty and poetry of what’s before them.

Marilla is endeared and can’t help but agree on the beauty and poetry before her and oh…

Oh.

It settles all at once like the final puzzle piece falling into place.

She is uncertain about many things, but not this. Not this unrelenting warmth. And now that she can see it, not the unrelenting desire. The want of more.

Marilla is certain about Muriel. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A restlessness captures Muriel. She can’t shake the feeling of needing to be doing something. 

School helps alleviate the feeling, but she’s nearly snappish at her students when winter break comes. She’s grateful when she wishes the last student a good holiday and closes up the schoolhouse.

The restlessness follows her each step, curling inside her chest and pressing an unmoored urgency. She steps into her home, determined to work some of the energy off. 

She cleans and organizes until she’s tamed every corner of her kitchen and living space. After applying the same single-mindedness to her bedroom, she lies on the bed, exhausted but still unable to relieve the restlessness. 

She tosses and turns before she falls into an uneasy sleep.

In the morning, the light filtering in through the window wakes her to the same swirling feeling. She sighs, frustrated and cranky. She turns on her back to stare at the ceiling. 

An idea strikes her and while she does have other things to be doing, it’s the beginning of her winter break as well, she can put off what needs to be done for a bit longer. And now that she’s thought of a way to relieve her restlessness, she’s eager to get started.

It has been a while, hasn’t it? She thinks to herself as her mind and body shift happily to this activity. Her hands ghost over her clothed breasts and she feels the frustration dissipating as her mind focuses on pleasure.

She tries to imagine Jonah, his strong body pressed against her, but the amorphous image of him in her mind keeps shifting to someone softer, lanky and sharp, but with curves. 

She doesn’t analyze it too closely because the idea thrills her. She allows her mind to wander to soft curves and strong hands. Excitement shoots down her spine. It’s definitely working for her. She bites her lip and slides her hand under the blanket. She pulls her sleep shirt up and rubs the skin of her stomach gently. In a moment of indulgence, she strips the fabric off her body. 

She settles more comfortably and moves her fingers up slowly, imagining strong hands, a little roughened with hard work pressing into her skin. She exhales sharply when she palms erect nipples. Heat swirls in her belly, settling hot and wet between her legs.

She presses and rubs her breasts until a soft moan escapes her mouth. She imagines different hands on her, and another moan fills the quiet of the room. Her knees part under the blanket and she drags one hand down, nails scratching until she reaches soft hair. 

Her breathing is short and shallow and stops entirely for a long moment when she finally, finally slips her fingers between swollen lips. Her whole body shudders at the sensation of sure fingers moving through soft wetness. Pleasure blooms through her and it’s definitely been too long. The amorphous woman in her mind solidifies slowly. She’s less featureless, and in Muriel’s mind, she’s pressing into her and pushing closer and closer to release.

Pleasure curls itself around Muriel’s spine, ready to pulse through her. She’s so close her fingers stutter in their rhythm and she misses a breath and then another. She bites her bottom lip, breathes in roughly through her nose, and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to prolong the moment on the precipice, the moment on the edge that is as tantalizing as the release. She moves her fingers slowly, pressing firmly, and she’s right there, all the air and sound caught in her throat, eyes closed, body taut, right there when her fingers slide over wet flesh perfectly and right as her pleasure breaks over the edge her mind supplies a warm smile and blue eyes watching her.

“Marilla.” The name escapes her mouth as pleasure crashes into her, seeping into every cell of her being. It should sound like a question, but the room echoes back only warmth, pleasure, and sureness. She floats suspended in that endless moment with those blue eyes focused intently in her mind’s eye.

Oh.  

Muriel doesn’t question it. She loves Marilla. Does it really change anything at all that she’s in love with her?

The sound of a knock breaks through her musings.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marilla raises her hand to knock again. Muriel has never not answered the door to her.

She stands in the chill of the winter morning, waiting to be let in.

Muriel opens the door quickly and widely. 

Marilla immediately notices Muriel is flushed, her hair is down, and her left hand tightly clutches a robe to her chest trying to keep it closed. Marilla walks in without thought, closing the door behind her for privacy and to ensure no one else sees Muriel in this mostly undressed state.

“Marilla, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time.” Muriel reaches to grab Marilla’s hand, and there’s so much that immediately pops into Marilla’s mind but it all halts at the feel of slick moisture touching her skin. Her eyes go to their hands and something strange is happening in her body, a quickening of everything. Muriel flushes all the way to her ears and tries to snatch her hand back, but Marilla clasps her hand gently, unwilling, unable to let go.

And she wants to ask what have you been doing? in wonder and awe because that hadn’t even occurred to her. And so much of the world is opening up to her in her mind. But all the words choke in her throat. Desire, so unfamiliar, grips her, and she feels so much everywhere.

So instead of words that often fail her, she acts. With a flush that’s crawled up from her chest, she pulls Muriel’s glistening hand to her face and she takes a deep breath, mouth open. 

And it’s like she’s been doused with kerosene and lit on fire. Every nerve in her body awakens and she’s incandescently alive. And she wants and wants and wants.

She tries to make her voice work, but all the words are clogged in her chest, so she hopes her eyes and her actions are transmitting her want, her desire, her request for permission.

She pulls lightly and Muriel’s clutched hand steadies itself on her shoulder to keep her balance. And the robe falls open.

Marilla’s mouth goes dry. And her eyes devour every single inch of skin revealed. 

She aches for Muriel. She steps closer, breaths stuttering, eyes on Muriel’s. 

She leans in, hoping that Muriel will let her in as she has for all their moments.

~~~~~~~~~~

Muriel’s heart feels like it wants to beat out of her chest. She brings trembling fingers to Marilla’s jaw and is astounded at her bravery, so quiet and solid. And she loves her all the more. She wants to say it out loud I love you, I love you, I love you, but she feels an urgency to do instead of speak.

So, Muriel closes the gap and presses their lips together for the first time.

And she blooms with astonishment and joy. It’s heady and intoxicating. When Marilla opens her mouth, deepening the kiss, Muriel melts into her. Her body presses into Marilla, seeking more.

Marilla, by accident or on purpose, it doesn’t really matter, slides her hand down the half-open robe. And Muriel needs to pull away from soft lips, to just breathe. 

She opens her eyes to Marilla’s blue eyes burning and they make Muriel ache with desire. Marilla doesn’t break eye contact as her thumb slowly glides over the peak of her nipple, and Muriel just stops breathing while every muscle in her body ripples in reaction. 

God in heaven it isn’t even that much, but that single touch still sends sparks shooting down every last nerve, and there is absolutely no muffling the low, deep moan it pulls from her throat.

Her knees give out when Marilla takes her whole breast in her palm and her work-roughened hand squeezes experimentally.

Marilla easily lifts her and walks them a few paces to place her gently on the couch. And Muriel would be fixated on that very deliberate show of strength and what exactly it does to her but Marilla is kissing her way down her neck and chest and Muriel can’t think beyond the sensation of hot kisses.

When Marilla’s mouth closes around one nipple and her other nipple is pressed between Marilla’s thumb and forefinger, Muriel’s mind empties of everything except the instant immolating heat transmitting from her nipples to her center. “Oh Marilla…” she finds purchase on the arm closest to her to anchor her in the maelstrom of emotion and sensation. She’s trembling and feels on the edge of release simply from this.

She’s bereft when Marilla pulls away but that eases when she feels the twitch of a hand splayed over her belly. Her eyes snap open to Marilla’s hunger as she looks down the length of her. She moans as Marilla unconsciously thumbs at her heated skin. 

Marilla’s eyes move slowly back to hers. “Please,” she rasps the single syllable in the deepest register Muriel has ever heard from her, and it lights her up. 

“Yes, Marilla,” she grabs Marilla’s hand and guides it down between her legs, “please.”

And Marilla parts her. Muriel bites her lip and tries to hold still at the soft, hesitant exploration across her wet, swollen clit. She can’t hold back the extended moan when Marilla finds her entrance and enters her. They still for an indefinite moment, trembling and breathing harshly. Then, Marilla moves, and pleasure coils like a spring tightening, tightening, tightening.

“Oh, God,” Muriel sucks in air with a sharp hiss, back arching off the couch. 

Marilla surges up to capture her lips and Muriel shatters.

A long moan reverberates in her chest and she clenches around Marilla’s fingers. As she comes down and settles back onto the couch, Marilla pulls her fingers out of her slowly, then places a light, lingering kiss on a flushed cheek.

Affection and love wash over Muriel and the intensity of it makes her breath stutter. They stay like that for a long moment, pressed together in the peace that has settled around them. Until Marilla brings her hand up to trace her lips, and Muriel can taste her own slickness.

“Can I…” a deep blush colors her features, “may I taste you?” She asks, the blush high on her cheeks but her eyes still burning, aching, hungry. 

This is how I die, Muriel thinks idly smiling, awed Marilla wants this with her. Her answer is a husked yes.

Marilla moves quickly to kneel between her legs. She gently pulls Muriel to the end of the couch and opens her knees.

Muriel moans slightly in anticipation at Marilla’s hot breath, and in the next moment she is involuntarily murmuring to herself, unable to suppress astonishment at this new sensation that is so much more immersive than she could have imagined.

"Oh." And then, "Oh. " She twines her fingers in the back of Marilla’s hair with one hand, clinging onto the couch edge tightly with the other.

Marilla is hesitant at first, making long, slow strokes with the flat of her tongue. But the sounds Muriel is making must encourage her because she ventures the tip of her tongue between hot, slick walls. Muriel tightens her fingers in Marilla’s hair, and she buries her face deeper, lapping with shallow flicks of her tongue. 

Muriel’s calves tense with the building intensity. She’s bordering on incoherence when Marilla eases off and lightly circles her throbbing clit until Muriel is pleading wordlessly, head tipped back, breaths shallow.

Marilla runs her fingernails up and down trembling thighs in time with her strokes, sending tingles back along electrified nerves, and all the sensations gather in a white-hot bubble around Muriel’s being.

“God…oh, Marilla…” and then all at once the heat and the melting sensation are cascading through her and all her bones turn to liquid.

When she coalesces again, long seconds later, she sees they’re both trembling. Marilla is still kneeling between her legs, face wet, eyes blown so that the blue is nearly engulfed, panting.

Muriel pulls them both up to a standing position. She slips her hands up Marilla’s still very clothed arms and cups her cheeks in both her hands. She brings their lips together gently and luxuriates in the immediate response, the low moan that Marilla can’t hold back.

“May I take you to bed, Marilla?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yes,” Marilla husks in a register she doesn’t recognize.

Muriel smiles and takes her hand, leading them up to her bedroom.

Once the door is closed behind them, Muriel leads them further in. Sunlight streams through the window, and Muriel stands in the middle of it, lit like a vision from a dream, robe hanging open, unashamed and unafraid. She’s powerful and impressive, and Marilla’s insides tremble with all the love she has for her.

“You’re beautiful,” Marilla says breathlessly but means I love you , I love you , I love you.

Muriel’s smile is radiant, her gaze intense and unblinking as she shrugs out of the robe. Marilla sucks in a sharp breath, her world contracting to this singular moment. She has touched Muriel and has tasted her; now, she gets to look at her without barriers or fear of being caught. She can look with specific intent–with love, with desire. Blue eyes rake over the planes, swells, and curves of Muriel’s body. The sharp ache of desire settles insistently between her legs. And all the fabric over her heated skin suddenly feels constrictive. Too tight. Too hot.

Muriel steps in and kisses Marilla softly before running her hands over the dress and asking, voice low and intense, “May I take this off?”

“Yes,” she gets out, somehow, and swallows hard but doesn’t seem to be able to make her heart go back down into her chest cavity.

Muriel undresses her slowly, delicately, hands shaking only a little. She allows her to acclimate to each layer coming off, pressing kisses to each new area of skin revealed. Until Marilla is bare and trembling with need at the searing heat of Muriel’s mouth.

“Marilla,” Muriel says reverently, “you are so beautiful.”

Marilla flushes but affection spreads warmth through every corner of her soul.

Muriel closes the final distance between them, pressing the glorious expanse of her naked skin to Marilla’s naked skin. Oh God in heaven, she exhales a sharp moan. If she thought she was on fire before, Marilla is incandescent now–like Muriel’s lightbulb experiment–lit up with electricity coursing through every inch of her at the feel of Muriel pressed everywhere.

Every single nerve in her body sings, but somehow, she manages to keep her wits about her, to wind her fingers into the soft hair at the base of Muriel’s skull, press her lips against her temple, and just breathe. She doesn’t want to miss a moment of this. Not a single second.

“May I take you to bed?” Muriel exhales, lips dragging over the sensitive skin of Marilla’s neck.

The yes, yes gets swallowed up by eager lips and tongues. They’re shifting and moving and suddenly she’s on Muriel’s bed with Muriel’s body pressing down into her.

God. Barely a moment has passed and Marilla already feels like she’s balancing on a tightrope made of fishing line. Her fingers are scrabbling for a hold on anything – Muriel’s hair, her shoulders – while her throat aches with the effort of choking back sound, because even the brush of warm breathing against her mouth is enough to make the entire length of her spine tingle.

“It’s me, Marilla. Please let me hear you,” Muriel whispers in her ear before dragging her teeth down the side of her throat and sucking at the crook of her shoulder.

The moan that fills the stillness sounds like it’s being ripped from her chest. Her entire body buzzes with anticipation.

She arches off the bed at the feel of hot breath and a wet tongue teasing her nipple. Please, please, nails dig into strong shoulders, and her vision goes white when Muriel takes her nipple into her mouth and sucks. White light, white noise, white- hot.

She gasps as the world re-materializes around her.

“I’ve got you,” Muriel says softly, blue eyes concerned, “Do we need to stop?”

Marilla pulls Muriel more firmly on top of her, immediately dismissing the concern with a half-amused, half-serious only if you want me to self-immolate from desire.

“Can’t have that,” Muriel’s smiles, pressing soft kisses to flushed cheeks. She slides her hands down lean muscled thighs and opens Marilla’s knees, “Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or want.”

The rush of sureness and security makes Marilla lightheaded. She cups Muriel’s face and brings their lips together. This is right and this is love. Marilla has never been more sure of anything.

Muriel pulls back, gaze locked with Marilla’s as she slides her fingers through her arousal, wet and hot. Her forehead falls against Marilla’s as if she can’t bear to hold it up. A breath stutters over her lips and Muriel’s hair cascades around her face, her fingers gathering wetness with each slow exploration.

Oh, Muriel… Marilla arches into her, into her touch.

Muriel touches and touches and touches her. “Oh, Marilla, I love this.”

“Inside,” Marilla gasps, finding purchase on Muriel’s back. 

And when Muriel enters her, Marilla’s body shakes like a train racing its way toward a thrilling destination.

Muriel moans, breath floating over Marilla’s face. And it all feeds back to pleasure. Marilla’s hips move with every stroke until Muriel hits something inside her that punches all the air out of her and pleasure blooms out and her muscles clamp around Muriel’s fingers as Marilla rolls into ecstasy with a full-bodied whimper.

Muriel kisses breath back into Marilla’s mouth and stays inside her. “Again?” She whispers.

Marilla is delirious with pleasure still wracking her body but she feels herself nod. And Muriel strokes her from inside. Marilla has not recovered before she’s riding Muriel’s curled fingers and tipping back into oblivion. 

Marilla’s bones are liquid and she can’t move yet. She closes her eyes and feels Muriel gently pull out of her and shift to pull her body tightly against her. They’re panting but eventually that evens out to soft breathing.

Marilla thinks she hears a whispered I love you but she’s asleep before she can make her mouth respond.

~~~~~~~~~~

Muriel watches as Marilla wakes and worries that she’ll regret this. 

“Is amorous congress always so tiring?”

Muriel laughs, some of her fears quieting. “Firsts are always more.”

Marilla turns and lightly puts her arm across her waist. “So seconds and thirds are less tiring,” dry, sardonic, her smile softer and more open than Muriel has ever seen, “practice must make perfect.”

“Indeed,” Muriel rejoins, enraptured by this version of Marilla she’s never seen before, “it’s also a great stress reliever.”

Marilla takes her hand and kisses the inside of her wrist, intimately, familiarly. “Is that what we were doing? Relieving stress?”

Muriel presses them together all along their front, still naked bodies. Her gaze holds Marilla’s. “I like to think we were making love.”

Marilla traces her fingers along Muriel’s jaw, gently, softly, before tilting it up to capture her lips. The kiss is unhurried and erases all of Muriel’s worries. “I’ve let love pass me by before,” Marilla says softly, “If you’ll have me, I don’t plan to let it pass me by again.”

Muriel’s heart trips in her chest at the words suddenly aching with love for this wonderful woman.

“I love you, Muriel.” It’s sure and soft and so full of wonder. “If I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it is that love comes in many forms, if we’re brave enough.” She places her hand over Muriel’s heart. “You make me want to be brave.”

“Oh, Marilla,” Muriel's eyes sting with tears, and she wraps her arms around Marilla. “I love you.” She kisses her tenderly full of so much feeling. “I love you.” She holds her. “You are brave. And you make me brave, too.” She kisses Marilla’s smiling face. She never thought she’d want to belong to anyone else, but Marilla has opened up her heart. “And I would be honored to be yours and have you be mine.”

Marilla’s smile is full and unrestrained and Muriel can see the surety of their future laid out in the warmth of that gaze.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marilla’s heart aches watching Muriel walking the path away from Green Gables. 

Matthew and Anne catch her before she reaches the gate. Anne grabs Muriel’s arm animated and happy as they walk back.

Marilla is happy and confused. Matthew’s soft pat on her shoulder and low she’s family, shouldn’t leave if neither of you want her to makes her heart tremble but he simply nods and goes to sit in his chair by the fire.

Muriel’s face has hesitant hope all over it.

Anne, bless her, is the one who walks her over to Marilla and places their hands together. “You belong together,” she says simply with a smile full of love and acceptance. “We are so happy for you.” 

Marilla looks at Muriel and lets her eyes and smile do all the talking. 

Muriel nods and they settle in the chairs for a quiet evening with their family. 

And as winter blooms into spring, their love grows.

Easy and true. 

Solid and constant.

[ghostaholics]

for soulmate au:

would johnn and reader cross paths again and if they would what would it look likee

would they maybe find a way to love eachother despite johnn's proffesion

𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒖

here’s more on what happens between them

After their long talk, they decide to regrettably, but amicably part ways – neither of them like the circumstances, but they agree it’s for the best. She sends him off with a hug; they hold onto each other for a little bit longer than they should. It tides them over for maybe a week. Cue a whole montage of them in their respective places unable to adjust back to normal life for a while.

Then, as previously mentioned, it starts to hurt. At first, it starts off like a little twinge – a bones-deep sadness that comes and goes every so often but she tries to ignore the feeling. It gets worse not long after, a visceral chest pain that’s so awful it sends her straight to A&E; she thinks she might be having a heart attack. Who’s your emergency contact? they question. Don’t have one, she says, and it sends another stab of pain through her. The entire hospitalization is about a day-long affair. They run every test in the book, they give her clot-busters, vasodilators — hell, they’re contemplating cutting her open for invasive procedures even though the labs don’t say she’s had a myocardial infarction, just an EKG that had some anomalies but everything else was fine. Someone, a cardiologist maybe, has the sense to ask, How’s your soulmate? And she replies in a grim tone, ‘We don’t talk.’ Well, there’s the problem.

Price caves. He caves so fucking bad; calls her up (they’d agreed only to contact each other for emergencies), because to be honest, he wasn’t sure if it was just him or if she’d been feeling it too – emotional pain was never in the books but it seems like now it is. This is new. This is bad. His voice is gruff like usual but the concern is evident behind his words. And the second they hear each other down the line, there’s a weight that’s been lifted – the pain dulls. Relief. Not quite gone altogether, but more manageable. Neither of them feel like they’re on the brink of death anymore. And there are just shaky breaths being exchanged on both ends as they try to come to grips with what’s been happening. So, cutting all contact, going cold-turkey, is clearly not going to work for either of them. They know they can’t be doing this, but the more they talk over the phone, the easier it gets to breathe, to function normally. And so it begins.

Their relationship runs on a schedule; a loophole – every Sunday, 0600 her time. They count it down, too. Exactly one hour. Just enough for them to keep the pain at bay, to go about their lives until the next call. Sometimes longer when he knows he's about to go off-the-grid for a mission and won't make the usual Sunday time. They talk about anything and everything: she usually talks about her personal life, old stories from her past, what she’s making for breakfast, what her plans are for the week, and him – stuff about the 141 (never anything confidential or gory) like what sort of antics they get up to, spends an entire call telling her about Villa Claras and why they’re the superior cigar (kind of a nerd about those, whiskey, and the Reds, which she finds endearing – actually very knowledgeable regarding many things that he can talk her ear off about for hours). She falls in love with his voice first, the rest comes after slowly.

The more times they use this loophole, the weaker it gets. It starts off with him asking for five more minutes; yeah, he hears the alarm go off. Maybe a little bit longer will buy him more time throughout the week until the next call. Nothing they haven’t done before. But five turns into ten the week after, then twenty, and so forth. She says his name softly, interrupts him when they reach 0930 during one of their talks. I know what you're doing John. We can't. And here's the thing: it's a case of 'she fell first, but he fell harder.'

It doesn't last as long anymore; three days now until the longing starts back up again. And he calls her. He fucking calls her in the middle of the week on a Wednesday. John— She feels it too. I had to hear your voice again, he says with urgency. Because he just couldn't fucking help himself.

So they schedule something for Wednesdays. It'll help. It should. And it does, for all of two weeks until the same bloody thing happens again. This isn't sustainable. He knows that he’s not going to retire anytime soon, and even more that that – he knows that she shouldn't be doomed to live this kind of life. Not for for him, but most especially not fair for her. It's like she said, isn't it? She waited an entire lifetime for him. Why keep putting her through that? So he mentions this, kills him to do it: you deserve better; I know there's someone out there who can give you the things that I can't (Sunday mornings face-to-face over tea, to be near one another in a way where they can see the other's okay, where the hurt is non-existent; intimacy and affection and proper romance; marriage, growing old together, something quiet and normal.) She's already taken on his pain. He figures that it's his turn to bear it for the both of them now.

She tells him, without reservation, that it's the stupidest thing he's ever said. And before time's up for this call she uses the last few minutes to admit what's been on her mind lately. I don't want any of that stuff if it's not with you. What would be the point? It took me a while but I've finally figured out what soulmates are for; not for all the things you've said, as nice as they are – or would be; it’s simple, really. I was put on this earth to love you and I think that I've fulfilled my purpose. Nothing else matters.

She waits for his call on Sunday, 0600 on the dot – he's always punctual, she knows; this time is no different. But she doesn't even get a 'hello' out before he speaks into the phone: I'm outside.

[genshin-obsessed]

Your blog is everything I wanted and more. Im a lurker for your writings ahaha if you can guess who i am 👀

How about the guys reacting to s/o's death. Can be a group writing but if its too much, just Diluc, Childe, Razor and Kaeya would be nice. I think they would have interesting reactions >:3

First of all, Anon. I LOVE YOU. I wanted to write this out but thought it might be a bit too much but then you went and requested it!! I guess I have no choice but to write this out! >:) (That’s also why I did all the characters) second. Guess who you are o: may I get a hint? I have 2 people in my mind tho o: Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, angst. Pure angst.

Sidenote: The woman in this is my OC named Toxin! Whenever I need a really big, bad villain, she’s my go-to! That’s all!

Includes: Aether, Kaeya, Venti, Diluc, Razor, Xiao, Xingqiu, and Childe!

Scaramouche & Zhongli Here | Part 2 Here

You Die!

You ran as fast as your feet would carry you, desperate for an escape. A scream erupted from your lips as the ground shook beneath you, causing you to stumble and fall over. You had received an emergency request to help fight… someone. The request wasn’t very detailed but someone needed help and you couldn’t turn your back on them. So, you went ahead and tried to help.

You should’ve been careful. You should’ve brought help. But you didn’t and you were paying for your stupidity. The person that you were fighting was strong. She was tall, pale, and had long black hair. Her unearthly glowing green eyes were terrifying. She was fast and all of your attacks were unable to touch her.

As you ran, only one thought crossed your mind. The smiling image of your boyfriend. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to run. How you wished you could be in his arms, feeling safe and sound.

As you ran out of the forest and down the field, the woman appeared in front of you, catching you in her arms and stabbing you with a poison dagger. You shrieked as your hands curled around her clothes. The sharp pain turned into a burning sensation and you looked up at her. Her face was inches away and she smirked, her eyes glowing bright by the second.

“Finally. But you’re not the only one I wanted to break.” What? What did she mean? Her head turned to the left and you followed her gaze and the second you saw what she was looking at, your heart shattered.

The woman pulled the dagger out and it seemed to vanish as she smirked at your boyfriend. The tears slid down your cheeks as you weakly reached out to him for help.

“(F/N)!” His heart stopped as he watched the woman disappear and you fall to the floor. He sprinted to you, picking you up in his arms as blood poured out of the wound. “H-hey! Hey, keep your eyes open! J-Just stay awake!” He held your head against his chest, trying to calm himself, but how could he? You were bleeding out in front of him. 

He looked down and ran his fingers along your cheek as your skin started to turn purple. The poison had taken its effect and it was moving fast. You were leaving, you would leave him just like Lumine left him. He was gonna be alone all over again.

“A-Aether… I-I l-love you.”

“I love you too! You’ll be fine, everything’s g-gonna be ok.” Who was he kidding? You weren’t going to make it. But he couldn’t admit it. Aether still had yet to find Lumine and he’d never gotten over losing her. You, you were his light. You were his guiding start. You were his moon, his everything. 

To think that he could lose you? No, no! He didn’t want it. He didn’t want a world without you. A world without you was pure torture. So why? Why was the universe so hellbent on taking things away from him? Why did it demand everything precious to him?!

Why you? 

A pained cry left his lips as your hand fell to your side and that light disappeared from your eyes. “N-no. No, no, no, no! W-wake up! Please wake up! Do-don’t leave me! Don’t you leave me too! Not like this! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” He held your lifeless body against him, his head pressed against your chest. He couldn’t hear it… he couldn’t hear your heartbeat.

“No… NO!” He ran as fast as his feet could carry him and caught you before you hit the ground. The woman had disappeared but he didn’t care. You were… you were dying! How could he stop it? He wanted to stop the bleeding, he wanted to stop the way your color was changing, he wanted to stop time!

“K-Kaeya… h-how-”

“I was told to come here. A messenger came to me and said you called me and told me to come here.” He explained, taking your cold hand into his, pressing a kiss against it.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“No. Don’t apologize and don’t close your eyes. Please, just stay up a little longer.” He wanted to pick you up and run to the nearest doctor, but he knew… it wasn’t worth it. He wouldn’t make it. He’d never felt so worthless and weak. He swore to protect you and keep you safe and now that you needed him… he was useless.

“T-tired…” Slowly, your eyes closed and your hand fell limp in his. Kaeya’s eyes widened as the tears slid down his cheek.

“(f-f/n)? B-baby! No, wait! Don’t do this! Pl-please no!” He took your hand and pressed it against his cheek, but the second he loosened his grip, it fell. Kaeya shook his head, tears flooding down his cheek as a scream erupted from his mouth. “(F/N)!!!”

Slow. He was too slow. Why couldn’t he be fast enough?! That woman, he knew her. He knew her and he vowed to hunt her down and tear her to shreds. But right now…

Venti picked you up with trembling hands, letting his now bloodied hands touch your cheek. He couldn’t even talk, his voice quivered as he looked down into your eyes. No. This wasn’t happening. You weren’t going to leave him like this.

“H-hey, love. E-everything’s going to be just fine. You’re fine.” He tried to keep his smile up but it was so damn hard when he knew the truth. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t even lie to himself. You were slipping away and all he could do was watch. He knew he was the weakest of all archons but why? Why couldn’t he be a little bit stronger to save you.

“I-I wa-wanna sl-sleep-”

“NO!” He frowned and pressed a kiss to your lips. “No, don’t sleep. Not yet. Just stay awake a little longer and then we can both sleep together tonight.” You weakly nodded, but you couldn’t stay awake any longer. You felt like you were moving, but your body was slowly going numb, until everything disappeared. “(f/n)? (f-f/n)? H-hey! Hey this isn’t a joke! WAKE UP! WAKE UP, PLEASE, PLEASE WAKE UP!”

The second he saw the woman step away from you, a fiery phoenix flew towards her, but she’d disappeared before it could hit her. Diluc ran to you as he watched your body fall to the ground.

He fell to his knees and quickly picked you up, shaking you a little. There was something that snapped inside. He’d always kept his composure, but after seeing what had happened, his emotions burst out of him. He wasn’t in control of anything. He couldn’t control his thoughts, emotions… or your death.

“It’ll be fine! Everything’s fine!” He said, pressing his hand to the wound. You winced at the pain as your skin started to turn purple and blood spilled out of your mouth.

“I-I’m so-sorry.” He shook his head, taking your face in his hands.

“No. I’m sorry. I sh-should’ve gotten here faster.” He was still trying to convince himself you were going to be fine, but deep down, he knew the truth. He knew the ugly truth that was coming up.

“D-Diluc… y-you’re pretty.” His eyes clenched shut at your words as a tear slid down his cheek.

“Don’t leave. Th-there are so many things I-I want to do with you. Pl-please don’t leave me. Wh-what d-do I do?” You smiled weakly at him.

“Y-you b-be the Darknight H-hero…” He scoffed and looked down at you.

“Without you… I’m nothing.” You wanted to say more, you wanted to deny his words, but you were so tired. Slowly, the world faded away and you could no longer hear his cries. “No! NO! NO!! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! STOP! COME BACK! PLEASE BRING MY (F/N) BACK!”

The wolf within had appeared but he wasn’t able to catch up before the woman disappeared. He ran to you and picked you up, seeing the blood gushing out of the wound.

“N-no! (f/n)!” Tears flooded his eyes as he watched your color turn purple. That woman, she reeked of poison so she must’ve poisoned you.

“Shhh…” You muttered, holding your hand to his cheek. “D-don’t c-cry.” He didn’t know what to do. He felt so lost and helpless, but the worst part… he knew what was coming. He shook his head vehemently and tried to pick you up, but you let out a cry of pain, making him lower you back down.

“I c-can save you!”

“I-it’s ok… it’s ok, Razor. I… I’ll be ok.” He hated those words. He hated everything you were saying so much. Razor adored you, he missed you every second he couldn't be with you and normally, he’d never hate your words. But today… right now, he hated how right you were. He shook his head as the tears slid down his cheeks as he felt you slip away.

“Do-don’t do this t-to me. Not you too… they left me. Why do you want to leave me too?” You weakly tugged him down and made him kiss you, but half way through the kiss, he felt your head fall back and he knew. You were gone.

He knew that woman that had done this to you. He knew her and he was going to make sure she paid. But right now… right now you were more important. Xiao took you in his arms as tears started to fill his eyes. He’d never felt like this before and he hated feeling like this.

You made him feel so powerful, so invincible, so untouchable. But right now, he felt so vulnerable and broken. If he had been faster, if he had just gotten here faster he could’ve saved you. He could’ve been hugging you, seeing your skin bright with life, seeing your glimmering eyes, seeing that dazzling smile. But no, he was a failure.

A sob escaped his lips as he watched you starting to slip away. He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“D-don’t do this. Pl-please don’t leave me. Y-you pro-promised you w-wouldn’t do this to me!” He looked down at you but you still had that angelic smile on your face. Why? Why would you do this?! You touched his cheek and spoke; your voice was a quiet whisper, but he heard it.

“I-I love y-you, Xiao…” He shook his head and glared at the sky before shutting his eyes. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to see this happening to you.

“I love you too. S-so much.” He felt your body go limp and another sob escaped his lips. “Y-you pr-promised you’d c-come back to me.” He raised your face closer to him and pressed a kiss against your lips. “P-please come back to me. I-I can’t live without you… I do-don’t want to.”

He sprinted down the hill towards where you lay, gathering you in his arms when he was at the bottom. He didn’t know what to do, there was so much blood, so much poison, and no hope. He fell beside you and pressed his hands onto the wound as blood gushed out.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, it’s ok, it’s ok, everything’s just fine!” You winced in pain in your torso, but it didn’t last very long. It only took a minute before you lost feeling in your legs and arms.

“Xingqiu… i-it hurts.”

“I know, I know and I’m so sorry! If I was faster, I could’ve helped you. It’ll be ok, I promise, my love. I won’t stop until you’re taken care of.” Why didn’t he believe his own words? Maybe it was the fading light in your eyes, maybe it was the color draining from your face, maybe it was the sheer amount of blood that poured from the wound… but Xingqiu didn’t have a single ounce of hope. Why? Why was the world doing this to him? Why was it punishing you like this? Did he do something? Did he commit a sin that was so unforgivable that the universe or the gods would punish someone as sweet and amazing as you?

He wanted to cry, but he bit his lip to hold the tears back. His eyes were glossy and his vision was blurry, but he refused to cry. He wasn’t going to show you the fleeting hope in him. He wasn’t going to show you that he was  a liar.

“Xingqiu… w-will y-you g-give me one l-last kiss?” His head snapped to you and he shook his head.

“It won’t be our last kiss! We’ll have more chances. We’ll have so many more chances.” He did kiss you however. It was short and sweet, as he returned to applying pressure onto the wound. His eyes flickered to you for a second before his entire body tensed. You were staring at the sky… with dull, lifeless eyes. “(f-f/n)? H-hey… hey wake up.” He gently shook your shoulders. “Hey, stop. Th-this isn’t funny! I know you like playing tricks on me but this isn’t funny! St-stop!!” Finally, he broke. He laid his head on your chest as his tears started to flow. 

“NO!” Oh, he knew that woman well. He’d worked with her once. She was, indeed, powerful. She was a killing machine and there was a time where he was impressed by her. But right now he felt nothing but pure hatred for her. But that had to wait, because you… you were dying.

Childe pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest and kissing your head. He was trembling and his emotions were a mess. Tears trailed down his cheeks as he looked down at you. The wound oozed with red and purple, so he knew you’d been poisoned.

“H-hey, darling. You ok? Everything’s just gonna be ok, you hear me?” You gave him a weak nod as you looked down at the wound. However, he took your face and made you look up at him. “No, no. Just look at me. Nothing but me.”

“I-I won’t… I’m tired.”

“HEY! Don’t you dare close those beautiful eyes on me! Everything’s going to be fine! Everything… everything is fine. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare even think about leaving me. Don’t you… don’t do it. Please, god I’m begging you (f/n)! Don’t leave me all alone in this world!”

“I-I ca-can’t stay…”

“Yes, y-yes you can! You can’t leave me, please d-don’t.. I-I don’t know what to do! What am I supposed to do?! Just go on, pretending everything’s ok?! JUST PRETEND LIKE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE DIDN’T LEAVE ME?!”

“Shh… d-don’t get so angry.”

“I-” He sighed, taking in a shaky breath, “I love you so much i-it’s hard to breathe without you. Do-don’t take away m-my reason for li-living.” You didn’t answer. You only weakly smiled before your eyes closed and your head fell back. Childe’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “N-no. No- HEY! No, no, no! Please no!” He held you against his chest as he let out a scream. What else could he do besides cry.

Your boyfriend stood up, holding you tightly in his arms. There was only one thought in his mind as he glared in the direction the woman had gone. 

There was nothing left for him. So he wouldn’t stop; he would relentlessly hunt that woman down and tear her apart completely. That way, she could feel an ounce of his pain.

[falloutjay]

Can you please do Mysterion falling in love with a Civilian reader?

I was done much faster than expected honestly!

And Im pretty happy with my outcome and I hope so are you. I love Mysterion/ Kenny and was super happy to see a request for him, so thank you for that! (ɔ◔︣‿◔︣)ɔ ❤

________________________________

Mysterion x civillian!reader

“Stretch here….Ah….And a stretch there…Ha..” A deep voice mumbled. The tall and hooded figure enjoyed the newfound relieve and his eyes wandered once more over the streets below him.

Just an hour and Toolshed would take over.

Tonight, the hero known as Mysterion was bored out of his mind. Nothing really happened. No robberies. No drunk people causing problems. Not even a little bit of arguing.

He was happy of course, that nothing happened means that they did their job well. But a five-hour shift of just looking out and being on guard if anything happens can be annoying from time to time. Kenny, his civilian name, was just done for tonight.

He had this horrible headache, that came back ever so often after an especially violent fight with his arch nemesis Professor Chaos.

His body longed for a good long sleep and he was even a little hungry.

Oh, how he would kill for that half-eaten Bagel that was in the fridge at the hero hideout.

“Focus.” Mysterion reminded himself again and took a deep breath.

“Toolshed will be here soon, then we can sleep. We do this for Karen.” Just thinking about his little sister helped him regain control of his wandering thoughts and to get a better look at the city below him, he sat down at the edge of the building he was on and let his legs dangle in the air.

The streets looked so peaceful at… Blue eyes scanned the smartwatch display… 1 in the morning already.

Lazily, but still attentively those same blue eyes wandered from left to right and right to left, taking in everything that was going on, which wasn’t much. Just some people chatting her and there since he was close to the bars and clubs of the city.

Nothing of interest until a person caught his eye. They were young and seemingly alone, walking at a quick pace and looking somewhat out of place as they didn’t look like your typical party goer.

So naturally the hero was intrigued. He carefully got up and followed the young person that walked on the streets below.

Elegantly he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to keep up with the somewhat fast person he followed.

He didn’t do this because he was some kind of creep, but his gut feeling told him this was the right thing. Something seemed fishy and his gut had never disappointed him before.

And it really never disappointed him before, but he felt like an idiot after five more minutes of following. Maybe for once his gut was wrong? It looked like they arrived at their home and tried unlocking their door.

Mysterion let out a sigh, questioning if Toolshed had maybe already arrived? Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a commotion from below.

He peeked over the edge and the person he was following was now pressed against the door they had tried to open. Some tall man held them there and looked rather angry.

“I will never doubt you again.” Mysterion mumbled as he got ready to jump down. He landed as quiet as a cat and approached the two.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N. Why were you there?”

“Like I said, I just went and got my books back. Stop following me or I will call the police.”

“Don’t try to bullshit me, dipshit.”

“Leave them alone.” Mysterion now called out and stood firm just a few feet away.

“Wha-” The man mumbled, letting go of the other person. He now approached the hero and mustered him.

“What kind of clown are you?” He said and got all up in Mysterions face. The blonde could easily smell the alcohol in his breath as he asked the question.

“The only clown I see is you.” Mysterion growled, trying to look as intimidating as he could.

Which he did with ease.

The man scoffed, looking at the person he had followed one more time before leaving angrily.

Mysterion approached the still shocked person leaning on their door. “You alright?” Now Mysterions had the time to properly look at their face and he felt warm inside, despite the cold air.

“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks to you. Thank you for getting rid of him.” The blonde loved the sound of their voice. Wow, it sounded so brilliant and lovely in his ears.

“Who was that anyway?” Mysterion questioned as the person opened the door.

“My stupid jealous ex. It has been over for ages now, but he just keeps bugging me. I was picking up some book from my study buddy and he must have gone crazy.”

“Glad to hear he is an ex.” Mysterion said charmingly, a confident smile on his lips. “Yeah, me too.” The person kept standing there, not making a move to actually go inside just yet.

“May I know your name?” Mysterion asked. “It is Y/N. May I know my saviors name?” They asked, cocking their head and with a bright smile on their face.

“Mysterion.”

“You’re one of those heroes who watches over the town right? Like in the comics?” The hero laughed. His smokey voice was like a bittersweet melody in Y/N ears.

“Pretty much yeah.”

“That’s so cool honestly. That I would get a hero’s help someday… How lucky I must be. Maybe we will see each other again, Mysterion?” “I sure hope so. Good night, Y/N.”

Mysterion said, turning around to climb up a drainpipe to get back on the roofs. “Good night, Mysterion!” Y/N called out before disappearing inside.

Up on the roof, the hero could finally let go of his super serious façade and immediately he bit his lip. Normally he had no trouble keeping his civilian persona and Mysterion separate but goddamn that Y/N?

They actually had him stumble over his thoughts for a second.

“Okay, lets meet up with Toolshed and then we are fine.” He said to himself and quickly went on his way.

 A gloved hand went through golden locks and a dreamy sigh escaped pale peach lips. The owner of said things almost jumped up in surprise when a hand slammed down on his desk.

That hand belonged to a fellow superhero, named Human Kite. The most serious hero they had in their organization.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’re getting sick? Got shot? You’re not focused at all Mystery.” “Stop with that nickname or I’m gotta start calling you Human.”

“Fine…Fine.” The Human Kite said and sat on Mysterions desk. “I’m fine though, thanks for asking. I just had had an interesting encounter.” The redhaired hero raised an eyebrow.

“The high and mighty, super serious Mysterion is actually smiling and lost in thought? Must have been someone special…”

“I think…” Mysterion started and looked around, biting his lip. “I think I met my Mary-Jane or Lois Lane.” With a smug expression Mysterion looked up to the redhead.

“Damn, really? Must have been a real beauty, because I only know you as this super serious dude who everyone fears when they first see you.”

Mysterion leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Trust me, they are. Pretty h/c-colored hair, stunning e/c eyes and a body to die for.” Human Kite almost fell of the desk laughing.

“They really got ya. Better hope they like you too and are willing to be your Mary-Jane.” Kite chuckled, got up and walked away.

“Ah, come on, instead of being jealous I found someone pretty, go suck Toolshed’s dick. We all know you want it!”

Kite gave him the middle finger before leaving the facility. “You know it’s the truth.”

Mysterion shrugged, a big smile plastered across his face. Mosquito, who overheard the conversation over from his desk eyed Mysterion as he out his feet up.

“So, any plan in mind now, bsss?” He asked and looked over.

“I actually do, my Mosquito friend.”

 Y/N was on their way home. It has been an exhausting day. Right now, they just wanted to get home, lay on the couch and sleep. While searching for their keys, they felt like they were being watched.

“Come on, not today…” They mumbled, sincerely hoping their ex would not bother them today. Y/N quickly opened their mailbox, snatched the letters, and went inside, feeling relieved as soon as they got to sit on the couch.

After a few minutes, which they used to decompress, they looked through the mail.

“Bill, advertisement, trash, bill…Huh?” A blank envelope was left and curiously, Y/N opened it.

Their e/c eyes scanned over the neatly written words and immediately their inside felt all fuzzy and warm.

 “Dear Y/N,

I am not a man of many words nor can I write good letters.

But I have to say, I can’t get you out of my mind. My colleagues are already bullying me for it, saying you’re my Lois Lane or Mary-Jane.

If you would like to see me again, come to the old building next to the Raisins tomorrow night. I’ll be there at midnight, waiting for you.

M?”

[erimeows]

Intervention, Baby

Unlike many of his Autobot counterparts, Prowl adored organics- especially the ones on earth, whether that be the plants, animals, or humans.

His favorite, though? You. You by far. 

After arriving on earth, Prowl had become obsessed with people watching, usually taking long strolls around the city or going to public parks to watch how humans lived their daily lives. Something about the human species by itself was captivating, but when he’d seen you for the first time, (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair shining under the bright sun as you walked into the local flower shop, he had been completely and utterly enthralled. He’d known that he was supposed to avoid interactions with humans that weren’t necessary according to Prime, but he hadn’t been able to help himself that day. So, he’d gone into the flower shop and sparked a conversation with you to figure out exactly what it was that had him so interested; what it was about you that was so different than the other humans he watched.

You had just moved to Detroit from your hometown for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen you before that, and as he’d talked to you that day, he became more and more intrigued. You’d started renting a house nearby, with your very own flower garden, which you showed him that day. He hadn’t been able to tell you much at the time about Cybertron for security reasons, but what he did tell you about himself, you listened to intently. You were a great listener, with kind eyes and a bright smile that made his spark stop at times.

Prowl had been a cautious bot. Whatever caution he had maintained since being on earth had flown out the window with you, though, as he fell quickly, often sneaking away from the Autobots to spend time with you at your house or visit you at your job. A strong friendship was quickly formed, and with how much he was gone, his teammates quickly became suspicious.

It started with questions, the others asking where he was all the time and why he was suddenly so interested in stopping by flower and gardening shops whenever they were out. Naturally, Optimus was the first to figure it out, asking if he’d met someone and then leaving the subject alone when Prowl avoided the subject. However, Bumblebee was the next to catch on, and he had no sense of personal boundaries, so he dragged Bulkhead along to follow him to your house. While it wasn’t the best first impression, that was how you met Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and eventually Optimus and Ratchet as well- since the secret was out in the open now and no one seemed to disapprove of you, Prowl had started bringing you around the Autobot base.

The rest was history, but the more Prowl developed his relationship with you, the more fearful he became for the future. He was a wise and emotionally mature bot, he figured, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He had fallen in love. He was cybertronian, you were human, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to initiate anything- not that he thought you returned the feelings anyways. No, you were too pure and sweet, kind and beautiful, fragile and soft. He feared hurting you most of the time. He feared falling deeper. He feared starting something he couldn’t finish and leaving you hurt in the end, but each day he spent with you only made it worse.

Why did he love you? Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Autobot? Why a human? The thoughts plagued his processor constantly, but when you reached over to grab one of his digits and pull him along to show him something in your garden or smiled up at him, he couldn’t help it. You were so soft and delicate, but you still treated him like you would anyone else. You weren’t scared of him, you always offered a listening ear when he needed it, and you opened up to him in return.

Warm, bright, radiant- Prowl felt like you were all of the things that he wasn’t, and as he returned to base and walked into the main room, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Spending time with you seemed exhausting nowadays. He always left with a troubled processor and an uneasy feeling. Was it right to keep seeing you when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? Would his unresolved feelings get in the way of your friendship? What was he to do at this point? As much as he’d tried to simply make the feelings go away, he couldn’t; couldn’t develop an interest in anyone else, couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about you to kill his attraction, couldn’t will it away. Nothing worked, so he drowned himself in it, and while he would have loved to sulk for a little bit, his attention was captured by his team.

He’d walked into... Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was yet. His entire team was crowded onto the living room couch, silent, staring up at him. Seeing them all in one room at the same time was rare when they weren’t sharing energon or working against the Decepticons, but seeing them all in one room and quiet? Something was wrong. 

“Where did you just come from, Prowl?” Bumblebee, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with Bulkhead to his right, crossed his arms as he asked the oddly accusatory question and leaned forward.

“(y/n)’s, why?” Prowl answered. He was so uneasy that he found himself shifting his weight from one pede to the other and averting his gaze. While he wasn’t normally avoidant like that, when it came to you, he couldn’t help how nervous he got.

“Don’t worry about it, but-” Bulkhead started, letting out a nervous chuckle.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Optimus Prime, next to Bulkhead on the edge of the couch, wouldn’t even look at him. Meanwhile, Ratchet, who was on the other side of Bumblebee, appeared to be growing increasingly agitated with each second that passed. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl finally demanded, which made Bumblebee stand up and point right at him with a huge grin.

“Intervention, baby!” The yellow bot cheered.

“Intervention? I’m not abusing substances if that’s what you’re-”

“No, no, that’s not what we’re getting at, you bucket of bolts!” Ratchet groaned and face-palmed. “We’re here to talk about you and (y/n)!”

There were two ways this could go, and Prowl wasn’t sure which one he hated more.

One, his team could be concerned about him spending so much time with a human who had nothing to do with their cause. It was a valid concern and he knew it- spending so much time with you put you in at risk of getting involved with the Decepticons like Sari, and unlike Sari, you had no key or Cyber-organic powers to protect you. You were simply human, and it wasn’t fair to you to put you in danger the way he was. But he was selfish.

Two, his team could be concerned about his feelings for you. Whether for the aforementioned reasons or because they had to watch the two of you interact all the time, he wasn’t sure, but it would make sense. He certainly hadn’t expected them to call an intervention over either issue, though, so all he could do was stand there.

They were staring at him. 

It was... Embarrassing, to say the least.

“I don’t see why this would be considered even remotely appropriate- And Optimus, Ratchet,” Prowl glared at the two older bots, knowing damn well that they knew better than to do this to him. “I expect it from these two, but you? I thought you were more mature than this, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Don’t come at us with your maturity spiel when you can’t even mech up enough to tell (y/n) your true feelings,” Ratchet spat.

“Ratchet, you could have phrased that with a bit more tact, but I do believe you are correct,” Optimus agreed with a small nod and offered a smile, glancing at Ratchet and then at Prowl. “While we don’t have the right to dictate what you do, Prowl, it’s become obvious to everybot what’s going on, and... We all support you. You should be honest with (y/n) and tell her the truth. Love is something that should be appreciated and cherished, not hidden away.”

“Yeah! Plus, it hurts to watch you two dance around each other when it’s so obvious what’s going on,” Bumblebee argued. “She likes you back-”

“No, she doesn’t, and even if she did, how would this work?” Prowl raised his voice without meaning to, and the moment he heard how loud his volume was, he paused to take a deep breath and reflect. His team had good intentions, they wanted him to be happy and enjoy a relationship for once, but he was so scared. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? With a sigh, he spoke again, not daring to look at any of his friends. “I’m Cybertronian and she’s organic, and we could have to go back to Cybertron any day now- or, even worse, the Decepticons could kill us. Would it not be selfish of me to confess my feelings for her, start a relationship, and then leave or die? Assuming that she wants anything to do with me, that is.”

“Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but you’ve heard the saying here on earth that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, haven’t you? (y/n) would be more upset if you left or died without telling her the truth than she would be if you told her beforehand. No matter what happens in the end, at least she’d have some closure that way, because she does love you too,” Bulkhead insisted.

“No, she doesn’t,” Prowl mumbled, not having any other defense. Did he think you loved him like that? No, but did he have definite proof that you didn’t? Also no, so he was left without a solid defense, but too stubborn to concede to his friends’ (valid) points. “You’re wrong.”

“Yeah she does, dude, you’re just wrong,” Bumblebee walked over to him and put a servo on his shoulder, meeting his optics, uncharacteristically intense- borderline angry. “How can you even know if you haven’t talked to her about it?”

“How can you know?” Prowl defended and jabbed a digit into the younger bot’s chest plate. The two continued to stare each other down for a few moments before Bee finally sighed and looked away.

“Because I’ve talked to her about it.”

“...Oh. I see,” The black and gold bot took a step back and fidgeted with his servos. He had never expected for you to confide in Bumblebee about such a matter, but then again... Aside from Prowl himself, Bumblebee was your best friend and always had been since he’d started bringing you around. The two of you were similar; innocent, kindred souls with similar interests. Unlike Prowl, the yellow bot brought out your more energetic, fun side, making you laugh constantly, but... He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Bumblebee was a confidant for you, too. Part of him was jealous, but he tried to shove that down with a tense swallow. “I’m going to take my leave, then.”

“That’s what I thought,” The smaller bot smirked, earning a glare from Prowl in return.

“Get bent.”

~

That entire night and the day after were spent locked in his room reflecting upon everything; his feelings, you, the advice that his teammates had given him during their little “intervention”, the potential consequences of what he was about to do.

Whether he wanted to or not, he knew that he needed to confess. What if one of you died without ever saying anything? What if he went back to Cybertron without ever having the chance to tell you the truth and regretted it? What if you had to leave Detroit someday? It was too big of a problem to leave unresolved given how chaotic and unpredictable your lives were, even if he was scared of what could happen. Plus, half the battle was you loving him back, and if Bumblebee told the truth the day prior, you already did.

So, Prowl sat on your roof. Waiting. You were outside for whatever reason despite it being midnight on a Tuesday in human time, laying in your backyard and admiring your flowers. Since it was a warm fall, they were growing quite well, your pumpkin crop in particular thriving. He’d been watching you for a while; (s/c) skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon your body, (f/c) shorts and a black sleepshirt hugging your frame. Your (e/c) eyes were currently trained on your rosebush, though he was sure you had noticed his presence- even though he wasn’t visible behind your chimney, you had an amazing knack for being able to feel when he was there, visible or not. 

“(y/n)?” The Autobot finally spoke, emerging from his hiding place and jumping down into your backyard to stand next to where you lay. 

You sat up to look at him with a tired smile. It was late and you had work tomorrow... Something must’ve been on your mind, too. Perhaps the two of you were in sync with your recent concerns.

“Hey, Prowl, you’re up late. Why don’t you lay with me?” Unable to say no to you, Prowl did just that, joining you on the grass and laying with his back on the ground. The stars that littered the sky were fogged up by the city lights, but while he normally would’ve been agitated by it, you were better to stare at, so he didn’t mind too much. “You sat on my roof for a while and didn’t even talk to me. What’s keeping you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, I just-” The ninjabot started, close to denying everything flat out and ignoring the subject of his feelings yet again before realizing that’s what the problem was. He couldn’t open up to you and it was making everything convoluted, so with a sharp breath, he gathered all of his willpower and spoke to you again. “No, you know what? I’m tired of this.”

“What?” You looked shocked at the sound of his agitated tone, eyebrows furrowing together as you sat up and glanced at him, making him sit up as well. Your (e/c) eyes burned into his ocean optics in that moment, and a brief silence washed over the two of you before he spoke again.

“I’m tired of us hiding from each other,” Unable to help himself, Prowl leaned closer to you and reached over to rest a servo on one of your hands. “Be honest, what are your feelings towards me?”

You stopped, your breath visibly catching in your throat. The black and gold bot could immediately tell you were nervous, terrible at hiding your negative emotions like you had been since he’d met you, but he let you have as much time as you needed.

“Prowl, it’s a bit sudden for you to ask something like that out of nowhere. You know we’re friends-” You started, but when you looked closer at his face, you gave him a defeated sigh that made him realize; you knew he knew. “Who told you?”

“So it’s true,” He stated, holding your hand tightly and giving a soft frown. Your face was painted with the same fear and anxiety that he’d felt over loving you for so long now. 

Part of him was happy that you loved him back. The other part almost wished you didn’t, wished you could live your life happy and blissfully unaware to avoid the risk of getting your heart broken.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized.

“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetspark?” Prowl asked, tone gentle as he used his spare hand to caress your cheek and leaned in to rest his helm against yours. “I’d be a fool not to reciprocate, but I want to hear it for myself before I do anything. Tell me how you feel.”

“I’m in love with you, Prowl,” You admitted. A couple of tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks, those of which Prowl wiped away with his thumb. “I’ve been captivated since the moment I saw you, and I never planned on telling you. I’m afraid of you getting attached to me and not being able to handle it if we ever have to separate because I’m sure there will be a day when you have to go back to your home planet. You can’t stay forever, and I can’t go with you.”

“I feel the same way... I love you too, (y/n)- so much that I don’t think you understand. I held off because I fear having to leave you someday, but I realized that we should take advantage of what time we have left and try our best to make this work,” In between his words, you let out what he assumed was a sigh of relief, making him do the same. Prowl quickly felt the weight of his anxieties leaving his chest and shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your plump, warm lips, then withdrew to press a few more against your cheeks and forehead. You giggled; a sound he would listen to for the rest of his life if he could. “I think we’ll be alright in the end.”

“I...” You grinned and leaned into him with another laugh. “I think so, too. But who told you?”

“That’s... Quite the story. You see, yesterday afternoon, I got back to the base after visiting you and...”

Prowl smiled as well as he started his story. Things were complicated, and he knew this was risky, but you wrapping an arm around one of his and gripping his hand made him realize just how worth it you were. 

Maybe that intervention hadn’t been too bad of an idea after all.

[fanfictiondreamscape]

Alternate Endings (Pt. 2)

Title: Alternate Endings (Pt. 2) 

Genre: more angst, possibly more than the last part. this is your warning. 

Pairing: Victor Nikiforov x GN!Reader

Notes: This is a part 2 to the previous part, and I still used the angst prompt list from the aforementioned previous parts to form this piece.

With that said, I think that this will be the only part following the first unless I can find some way to continue the storyline. I intend to keep the ending somewhat depressing and sad, so I guess proceed with caution due to such. 

If you want something similar to this for any other character, please let me know, though! I may also mention that this went from a drabble, to a scenario, and now borders on an imagine - I can’t help that I got caught up! 

Part 1

Below the cut! 

You practically fell off the face of the Earth as soon as you left. 

Harboring all of the money you saved and deciding upon negotiations to make with your employer, you left Russia. You left Japan. You just...left. 

Travelling became a huge part of your life afterwards, and though many people had tried to regain contact with you, you ignored most of them - save for a few. Only Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuko Nishigori were available to your whims, but they were still advised to stay as quiet as possible regarding your whereabouts. 

You changed your whole appearance, changed your mindset, and even changed something as generally miniscule as your wardrobe. Still, as much as you did change and throw away, you couldn’t rid yourself of the many frivolous gifts that Victor had given you over the years. 

Some things you just can’t give up, but you knew that it would be fine. At the very least, you had something that would never let you forget about him. 

Victor, on the other hand, fell off the deep end. 

He had come across the note you’d slipped under his hotel room door and for the first time in a long time, he cried. A true mess was what Yuuri had come across, and as many times that he was able to help him through unconventional methods, this was nearly impossible. 

Victor didn’t leave Japan, but he did become so reclusive that even Yakov was extremely worried upon finding out about the occurrence from an offhand comment that Yurio made when talking to Yuuko over the phone before practice. 

Everyone around him saw the typically extravagant man become so dulled by misery that it became painful to watch. 

He didn’t even know where to start since he’d already tried to find you - looking everywhere that he knew you loved, everywhere that he knew you were often obligated to be at - but had failed to do so. 

It wasn’t until, when Yurio was free, that he overheard him and Yuuko talking at the front desk of the rink as Yuuri was warming up and he was getting his skates on. 

“Yeah, they’re in America right now. They just got a raise, actually - they were even thinking of dropping in when they get enough saved up,” Yuuko recollected, excitement dripping from her tone. 

“Well, they’d have to come by when Victor isn’t here. That would also mean that I’d be gone, but at least you could update me,” Yurio responded. He seemed more nonchalant about the whole thing, but Victor became hysterical. 

Granted, he did suppress what he could to eavesdrop further. 

“Of course! I am still a little worried about them, though - you remember how Victor had gone crazy trying to find them?” Yurio grunted in response. “Well, what if he decides to do something impulsive again and leave mid-competition?” 

The light-blonde teenager in front of Yuuko flinched at the thought. “That’s a good point...but we’ll never know unless it happens when it does.” 

A solemn chill fell upon the two, but the conversation split onto Yurio’s next routine and Victor left it to them. He stared wide-eyed, in pure disbelief, at the wall of lockers in front of him. 

“So they’re...(Y/n)’s in America....”

Ideas began to run through his head as the room became eerily quiet. Even Yuuri, who was sat in the corner and preferred a calm and quiet atmosphere, was perturbed by the sudden shift. 

“I know what I’ll do! Yuuri, skate if you want - I’m going to be out for a while,” Victor announced, generally resembling the flamboyant figure skating icon that everyone knew. 

He took his skates off and capped the blades, putting them into his bag and reaching for his cell phone and scrolling through listings. Katsuki was left dumbstruck, but he went on about what he was doing and decided to run through his routine a few times. 

Yurio had left by this point, and Yuuko was too far in the back to catch the tall man’s outburst. 

It wasn’t until the next day that he was extremely prepared and anyone who understood his issue was suspicious. Victor had hunted for every listing to America from Japan, and memorized the closest ones. Yuuko was the one person who was going to be there that he had to ask. 

“Yuuko, I must ask you something! Would you mind?” was Victor’s burning introduction, shocking the normally upbeat mother. She was a little taken aback at the bold attention grabber. 

“Mmm, yeah?” She tried to be as ‘typical’ as possible, considering that her suspicions were up now. She knew what was going on, she knew what Victor was burning for. 

“You said that you’ve been in contact with (Y/n), yes?” 

Yuuko deadpanned, eyes blank and dropping the facade that she was going to attempt to maintain. “I knew it. Listen, I know that you’ve been troubled since they left, and that they have been as well, but please - give them some more time.” 

Victor visibly deflated. He didn’t think it would work, really, but it was worth a shot. Maybe, just maybe, though.... “How about a hint? Is it hot? Cold? What is a landmark?” 

“No, Victor. Sorry.”

And he was back to his dejected being by the next hour. 

Victor was willing to annoy both her and Yurio, but gave up once they stood their ground with firm hold. “No. (Y/n) is fine, and they will come when they want.” It was always the answer, no matter who he asked. 

Daily, Yuuri would keep him company and skate to the best of his ability. It seemed to quench his troubles just a little bit before the up and coming competition season. 

Eventually, the Grand Prix rolled around again. Yurio was competing, as well as Yuuri, and Victor was there to maintain support for his ever-promising prodigy. 

Amongst the drama that had ensued, the two of them decided to take a break romantically and focus on the practice rather than devote too much issue to their worryingly stagnant relationship. 

It wasn’t until Yurio had pulled Yuuri aside when Victor was getting changed that he was let in on soem information that, had Victor heard, would send him into a frenzy. 

“(Y/n) wanted to me wish you good luck and let you know that they are here to watch. If you wanna talk, they’ll be waiting in the lobby.”

Yuuri almost faltered and told Victor, but decided against it. Your wishes were still high up, even if you two weren’t amazingly close. 

Sadly, Victor was still shaken and hurried. It was a large competition, and as much as he wanted to focus on the task at hand, you never left his mind. 

Over the year that you had fallen out of reach, he began to realize where he screwed up. Maybe he did like you at one time, but he let his own fears get the best of him and he fell to putting more of an interest to Yuuri. 

He truly loves Yuuri, but he truly loved you (romantically) at one point, and you slipped from his reach before he could manage to comprehend anything. 

So, upon making eye contact with a familiar pair of (e/c) eyes and an eerie copy of a blazer that he had given you as a birthday gift years ago, he was left idle. 

“(Y/n)?”

You sucked in a breath and shrugged, sighing afterwards and shaking your head. “Yep, it’s me. Hello, again, Victor.” 

Tears flooded his eyes as he ran to you, arms open and tight as his hug enveloped your frame. You didn’t reciprocate, not immediately at least. With obvious hesitance, you returned the hug, but pushed him away only a couple seconds later. 

“You’ve got a skater to support. We can talk later, okay?” 

“But, you’ve come back and-” 

“Victor. Go support Yuuri.”

He bit his lip, but nodded nonetheless and embarked to the rink. 

After the free skate, the next day’s events were prepared and everyone was sent out for the day. Yurio had caught up with you before heading to his hotel room, and Yuuri had popped in before he changed out of his costume, but Victor was most eager to meet you.

Upon seeing each other, yet again, in the lobby, the two of you parted ways but decided to meet at a restaurant in town. Yuuri would be dining with Phichit and some other competitors, and Yurio was with Otabek going sightseeing, so this was a prime opportunity. 

Silence loomed over the two of you, slow walking and sounds of nature overwhelming your senses. 

“So, you’re probably curious as to where I’ve been,” you began, breaking the tension as calmly as possible. You could have sworn that your heart was going to burst out of your chest if you let the quiet settle any longer. 

“Yes, (Y/n). I really have been.” Victor, for once in the time that you have known him, was quiet. He was never really afraid to speak to you about anything, but the way he was acting now let some of the more obvious pain show. 

“I’ve also been extremely worried. I never realized that you felt like that.”

You stopped upon the sentence, eyeing a nearby bench. Victor followed suit and looked down at you, eye contact being maintained. His gorgeous blue eyes were glassy and he appeared on the verge of tears. 

“(Y/n), darling, I never realized how much you actually meant to me. I was stupid. I- I really, truly did love you. I always thought that you were too good for me, though, so I tried to make the ideas disappear. It worked, but only for a while. I love you, (Y/n). Honestly, I really do, and...

“I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.” 

Your brows furrowed at his proclamation. The thought had never really crossed your mind, but you had always been drawn to his personality and how driven he was. You knew that he would do this, though, as he could also be notably daft regarding certain things. 

“Victor, I-.... Listen, I loved you at one point, but you found Yuuri. You found your match. You made your decision. Out of respect for you and him, I left. But I also did it to respect myself.

“I know my habits. I know that I can fixate, so I needed to get out of your hair if I wanted to feel better. So I did. I’m engaged now, Victor, and the person that I met is amazing. I thought that could have been you. But it wasn’t, and I’m okay with that now.” 

“You- you’re engaged?”

“Yes, yes I am. We haven’t planned our wedding date quite yet, but it is being discussed. The fact of the matter is simple: I knew what would happen if I were to stay, and as much as I love you, - platonically - staying here wouldn’t do me any good. Life comes, things change, and sometimes we just gotta give up.”

Silence fell on you two yet again, but it was interrupted by the slight sniffling coming from the tall Russian. 

“Victor, I came back not because I wanted to fight for your affection, but because I’ve been worried about you. I just want you to know that...I still do care for you, and I have still supported you and Yuuri. But what you want, what I wanted...that’s not possible anymore.” 

Pausing, you thought over your next words. Nothing was ever going to completely repair what was broken, but at the very least, you could try. 

“How about this? Here’s my new number,” you handed him a small slip of paper with the nine digits printed on it in your handwriting. “Let’s start talking again, and you can meet my fiancee sometime. Sound good?”

His mood nearly took a 180, but his demeanor was still sullen and sad. A weak smile crossed his face, and he responded in kind, “Of course. How about we go back to the group and enjoy dinner, though? You’re here again, and it’s more than I could ask for - but we have a lot of catching up to do.” 

[linkspooky]

Hello, I just wanna ask what are your thoughts on ObaMitsu from KnY?

Something I noticed with Iguro and Mitsuri is that in the final battle Iguro loses his eyes and Mitsuri loses her arms which Iguro's heterochromia and Mitsuri's freakish strength are major causes for their respective tragedies and even though Mitsuri cannot hold him and Iguro cannot see her they proclaim their love for each other, not letting their pasts define who they are but if it weren't for their pasts and their sadness they'd have never met.

I’m going to add onto another Anon’s thoughts in regards to Obamitsu, I believe the relationship between them was written as a tragic, unfulfilled love. 

In my previous meta I elaborated that both Obanai and Mitsuri believe deep down, they are unlovable people. What they’re fighting against isn’t really demons though, it’s their own feelings of self loathing that they externalize. Both of them have body features that resemble demons, Mitsuri is unnaturally strong like the demons in this world, whereas Iguro’s mouth was cut to resemble the snake demon that his family fed for generations. Both Mitsuri and Obanai have incredibly unhealthy self images, they don’t see themselves as humans, but rather as demons because of their unnatural bodies. 

They both live their lives defined by rejection, not acceptance. Obanai was first imprisoned by his family, then blamed by the sole living family member for the deaths of the rest of his family, because he was born as a sacrifice, because he was supposed to be eaten. Mitsuri’s arranged marriage rejected her because of her body, her strength, her hair. 

Both of them have been rejected all of their lives for features they were born with, Obanai was born to be a sacrifice, and born into a family that fed other people to a demon, and also planned on feeding him and he blames himself for being born that way. Mitsuri blamed herself for other people’s rejections, it was because she was so strange, it was because she had such a monstrous body. 

Their response to this is to try to hide themselves, their physical features, their deformities. They believe in a body like this, they could never be accepted as normal and because of that they have to do something to make up for it. Because they were born as abnormal, they can’t fix themselves in this lifetime, but they try to anyways. 

Instead of being themselves, they both want to be “normal”. Except they also both believe it’s impossible for either of them to live a normal life, Mitsuri because of her strength, and Obanai because he can’t be forgiven for the family he was born into. 

They’re both seeking love and acceptance for who they are, while at the same time they’re self sabotaging, neither of them really believes they deserve such a thing. That’s why they try to earn love by fighting. Mitsuri believes if she fights with the demon hunters she’ll prove she’s worthy of love, and Obanai believes that if he defeats demons he can at least make up for what he’s done in the past.

They can’t ever feel good inside about themselves, so they seek validation from outside. They try to do good deeds, they try to fight, to prove that they arebetter than they think they are. However, that’s a flawed premise to begin with for both of them, because love isn’t earned, it’s given. 

Mitsuri wants to be loved, and Obanai loves Mitsuri and wants to confess his feelings to her. It seems like a match made in heaven, no only that, but they already love each other for who they are, Obanai loves Mitsuri’s strong body, and Mitsuri sees through all of Obanai’s toxic facade and the mask he wears and believes he’s a good person. 

They already love each other, neither of them has to prove anything to the other. However, at the same time they can’t speak of their feelings. Why? It’s because deep down, both of them are too insecure to believe they deserve that love. They’re actually, too similiar. 

That’s why MItsuri and Obanai always add the caveat, I have to do this first, I can only love you in this world. 

Both of them kind of believe they can’t achieve love in this lifetime, and that’s what’s so tragic about it. Obanai has the wrong idea about Mitsuri to begin with, she wants to love him as he is in this lifetime, he doesn’t have to die to prove himself. 

And Obanai never once viewed Mitsuri as weak, or helpless, he just wanted to protect her because he believed she was more precious than himself. They’re so similiar in their flaws, that it causes a misunderstanding where they both keep throwing themselves into conflict to try to prove themselves and earn each other’s love when... neither of them loved each other for being strong or fighting demons. 

Mitsuri was always a normal girl, and always a strong girl in Obanai’s eyes. He fell in love with that person.

And Mitsuri always believed from the beginning that Obanai was a strong person, she always wanted to be around him despite what Obanai’s self loathing would lead him to believe that he’s not worthy to be around the people he loves. They were already in love, and they could have been their for each other in thi life, but it was too late by that point. 

Also, to add onto the anons point about how they couldn’t accept their pasts even though it made them who they were, and were the reasons they met they’re mostly right. As I’ve said this whole post, their self loathing makes it impossible for both characters to reconcile who they are now with who they were. It’s a shared flaw both of them have. They both try so hard to be a different person than who they were born as, they try to meet up in a different lifetime, ignoring the fact that this is the lifetime where they met. If they had not been born in this life, they never would have met, and never would have fallen in love. They both in a way contradict the theme of the series “you were born to be happy” because they’re both so self-defeating they don’t think they can be happy in this life, or ever happy with themselves.

I would also say their injuries are symbols of their self loathing, Mitsuri’s limbs get destroyed, and Obanai’s eyes get destroyed. Those were the features they hated about themselves the most, but loved about each other. Obanai admired her bottomless strength in loving others, and Mitsuri loved that he looked at her and accepted her. Therefore, they were wrong in seeking to destroy those parts of themselves. Mitsuri’s strength was a part of who she was, and what made her lovable, just as much as Obanai’s past and his eyes define the current kind person he is always trying to selflessly save others. 

[radioactivesweet]

Hello! I have a couple of requests for vnc, Roland teaching his (s/o) how to use a sword and Jean Jacques stargazing with his (s/o)

Alright, Jean-Jacques’ one ended up being way longer than what I had expected, so I’ll make another part for your Roland request!

Btw hope you like! I had so much fun writing this, I just really really love night sceneries and all plus Jean-Jacques his one of my favorites characters so

I forgot to add it, but I’ve used female pronouns, since it was specified in another message

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐤𝐲

Gévaudan was not a welcoming place for normal people, yet it was all Jean-Jacques could ask for. He got used to that freezing land, where his only company was that of the friend hw was so loyal to. He did not know much about the outside world, or maybe he did know enough. Maybe he was just too scared to find out. His only certainty had always been Chloé's costant presence, his only friend and confidant. This was enough, nothing he could have wished would have satisfied him to a greater extent. Or, at least, this was what he had always believed since his first meeting with Chloé.

One night was enough to prove how his beliefs were incorrect, beneath Gévaudan's starry sky. The landscape which surrounded the d'Apchier palace assumed an even darker charm at nightfall, when the nocturne creatures begun lurking among the depth of the forest and the sky shared the same shade of ink – or of the dark and stormy ocean. The only source of light – a dim glow which testified the existance of something else other than that pitch black night – were the pale stars, that painted that interminable field that dominated over them.

Jean-Jacques did not head immediately towards his bedroom, after wishing Chloé good night, he instead inadvertently reached the first window which appeared before him, as he was inexplicabily drawn to the cold nocturne breeze and the likewise icy moonlight that leaked through the light curtains. His dark eyes were filled with stars, while he was staring at that sky he would have never grown tired of. Another glimpse of light caught his attention. A weak, hesitant, sporadic fire appeared and disappeared among the less dense woods that surrounded the castle. Jean-Jacques pitched forward, alarmed, hoping to catch again that glow. It was not an illusion proked by tiredness and, unless it was a will-o'-the-wisp, someone must have been dangerously close. He could not afford Chloé to get hurt because of his distraction. He would have reacted istantly, enveloped in that darkness which he considered his friend.

It was a young woman the one who wandered, roaming through the woods of Gévaudan, lost beneath that starry sky, accompanied by the only warmth of a lantern. Jean-Jacques, whose eyes kept reflecting those same stars, observed her, wary, not knowing what to do. He should have verified that the girl was not a danger, before he could operate. He would have disappointed Chloé if he attacked an innocent person. Still, his judgement seemed to be blurred, pushing him towards that unknown woman. Jean-Jacques felt as he fell victim of a curse, incapable to take back control, hazy, under that silvery moon.

Once he reached her, she seemed to be caught off guard. She had not noticed that someone had been spying on her, despite the favour of the night and the fronds of the trees; the vampire's gaze could not be avoided, him being used to that darkness the wanderers feared. The light of the lantern lit up his confused face.

“This places are dangerous during nighttime, you should look for a shelter.” Jean-Jacques disappeared after pronouncing that warning.

The vagabond reappared the following night. And night after. And again and again. Jean-Jacques tried to kept his distances, but this did not prevent him from hiding the shivers that crossed his body whenever he recalled that enchanted meeting. Even Chloé noted the sudden change in his friend's behaviour, yet she decided to not interfere. There were no secrets between them, she would have waited until the moment he would have told her the reason behind that restlessness.

“Jean-Jacques, if you want to do something, do it before it will be to late. Or you will end up regretting it.” Chloè elegantly left the dining room, while the ravenette was busy tidying up. He almost let the crystal glass he was holding fall, after what she said. As always, Chloé could comprehend him better than anyone else.

That night he waited again under Gévaudan's starry sky. This time he would have got closer, instead of staring at gentle light from afar. When the lantern appeared, he reached her, with discretion like the previous time. Without a destination, the young lady kept wandering.

“It's dangerous here, Mademoiselle, why do you keep walking throught these harsh woods?”

“Do you live in that castle?” ask the young woman, whose (e/c) eyes shared the same brightness of the lantern. Jean-Jacques nodded.

“So you can always observe this splendid starry sky? You must have a nice view. The only way I can watch the moon is by walking through this road.”

“I am sure that the view must be nice from the village too, without the need to-” before he could finish the sentence, the girl spoke again.

“You are wrong, Monsieur.” she seemed lost, deep in thought. “What's your name?”

“Jean-Jacques, and you are Mademoiselle...?”

“(Y/n).”

That morning, Chloé noticed a change in Jean-Jacques' behavior. He had abandoned the tension that had accompanied him in the past days. She did not ask him what had happened that night, although she had heard him sneaking away from the castle. She did not feel the need to ascertain what the ravenette had been during after the sunset, while Chloé locked herself in her room to do her researchs. She trusted her friend. As long as she kept noticing improvements, she wouldn't interfere. Every night she continued to hear windows and doors closing carefully, announcing the vampire's departure. And every morning, the smiles that Jean Jacques gave her seemed more and more lively. She was jealous of whoever was the source of that sudden happiness, but still, that made her happy too. Jean-Jacques needed someone besides her who could cheer him up in such a way.

They didn't meet every day, it would have been impossible for (Y / n) to reach the place which had become their meeting point. But even when they didn't see each other, Jean Jacques would have waited patiently. He would have waited and thought. He should have told Chloè what had been happening in the past few weeks, he could not hide from his confidant the reason of that apparently unjutisfied happiness, that seemed to have distracted him from his friend's company.

Chloé listened with trepidation. At first her eyes, the color of the sky wrapped in a light veil of fog, seemed to darken, but then retrieving that clearer light that Jean Jacques loved. The approval of that one person with whom he shared his only ties was worth a great deal to him - he would not be able to quantify it - and he would have been terribly afflicted  if Chloé denied him her consent. Fortunately, the albino would have never deprived him of that new source of joy.

That night Chloé noticed for the first time the glow that had attracted Jean-Jacques. She could also hear the sound of their voices echoing through the forest, reaching the window she was standing by. Laughters and words were being carried by the wind to the Apchier Castle.

The dew-moistened grass brushed against his ankles, the cold winter breeze hit his face as you run like children under the starry sky of Gevaudan. You fall to the ground, exhausted, lying next to each other. He felt the beating of your heart, so human, compared to his. The air that leaves your lips, condensing because of the frost. Those eyes in which the starts above reflect themselves.

Jean-Jacques had always loved the starry sky of Gevaudan. And with you by his side, he loved it even more.

[uniqorrn]

KiriBaku X Reader

A/N: I’m a huge simp for KiriBaku x reader fanfic. I hope ya’ll like this since I just spent a week editing and writing this pfffttt. 

Pairing: KiriBaku x reader 

Warnings: kidnapping, some inappropriate behavior/words, some blood, angst but some love and fluff to balance it out at the end.

Prompt: You, kirishima, and Bakugo, along with your other classmates end up having to fight villains on the street in a sudden attack. However, you get caught in one of the villains arms and taken away in front of everyone. Kirishima and Bakugo watched as you dippeared and they would do anything to get you back.

Key:

e/c = eye color

Y/n = your name

Y/h/c = your hair color

��————————

“Tch, dammit!”

“What happened?!”

“Where did this sudden attack come from?”

The confused screams and shouts of your friends filled your ears as your gaze settled upon one of the villains that attacked the street. The attack came out of no where and startled everyone, leaving shocked looks on their faces. It left the class of 1-A without their costumes too, a bad position to be in as your costumes aided you guys in battle.

Your e/c narrowed onto the man in front of you, studying him to see what his next move could possibly be. You were fighting on the out skirts of the city with a few pro hero’s however, you got word that most of your classmates and boyfriends(Kirishima and Bakugo) were all somewhere in the center fighting in the middle, per usual. That’s where you were now, in the center of the large city, eyes narrowed onto the man dressed in black with the smirk of the devil written across his face under his mask.

You hadn’t seen Bakugo or Kirishima yet, only having seen Deku and Todoroki fighting another villain on the other end of the clearing. That rumor about everyone being here didn’t seem to be true.

“Well. Well. Well. lol Kenya we have here. A pretty little thing ain’t she?” The villains masked voice spoke through the clearing, breaking your thoughts and bringing you back to reality. You couldn’t think about Kirishima and Bakugo right now, they would be perfectly fine in battle being so strong.

“What do you say we okay a little game.... hmm..?” The villains tone was dark and rather scary, causing an uncomfortable shiver to flow down your spine. Something about him seemed off. I mean everything about a villain was off but, this guy? He was kreepeir. He took out a deck of cards, shuffling them in his hands like a pro, he grabbed a card between to long fingers and pointed it at you as if asking you to take it.

“I don’t have time for games” you spat, eyes narrowing more onto the target in front of you. You could almost see the creepy smirk he had on under his black mask.

“Awe.. that’s a pity.” He whispered, but in an instant he was gone until cold hands grabbed your shoulders, pushing you down slightly to prevent movement.

“However, I guess I’ll have to take you somewhere else to play the game then.” He whispered in your ear, his breath hitting against it making you even more uncomfortable. The villain had caught you off guard, your body freezing as one of his hand made there way to your neck.

“I think you’ll be the perfect-“

“Oi! Get your hands off her you dick!” The all to familar angry shout had you slightly relieved as the light from Bakugos explosions clouded your vision. However, the hands on your shoulders didn’t lift up. Bakugos attack seemed to have done nothing to the villan. Kirishima ran up behind him, scolding him for not being careful with his attacks.

“Sorry boys but, me and little princess here have some place to be.” And with that a blue glow formed around your body, blackness slowly starting to fill your vision as you were sucked into a portal. The last thing you had seen was the terrified looks on Bakugo and Kirishimas faces as you screamed for help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dammit dammit dammit!!” Bakugo screamed, his fists colliding with the ground you had been standing on just moments ago, hot ears leaking from his eyes and onto the stone floor. Kirishima stood behind him, his eyes watering over in anger. Angry that he couldn’t save you. Unlike Kirishima this wasn’t normal behavior from Bakugo. He usually kept his emotions bottled up inside, preferring not to share them unless he absolutely had to but, seeing you get taken away in front of him broke his heart.

“That bastard! He’ll pay for this” He continued to shout as members of class 1-A gathered around them, making a small circle around Bakugo and Kirishima. It was quiet for a while, no one dared to speak, shocked that yet another classmate was kidnapped. Everyone seemed to have known what happened judging by how Bakugo was reacting. Their classmate, their friend, someone they’ve known for a good while, was taken from them. 

Kirishima sucked in a harsh breath, flashbacks from when Bakugo was kidnapped filled his head which made his breathing even more uneven. Usually, it would be Kirishima to make the first move in comforting one of the two in their three way relationship. However, it was Bakugo who stood up and placed a warm comforting hand on his boyfriends shoulder. In that moment, as tears streamed down both their faces they silently promised each other they would get you back, even if it meant dying to save you.

Class 1-A spent that night in the hospital, doctors checking over their wounds and injuries to make sure they were alright. Many citizens thanked the group for helping them by giving them comforting words and phrases of encouragement. It didn’t phase them though, everyone-including the teachers- were still shocked and upset about what had happened. Bakugo and Kirishima were forced home that night as well, told that they would find you tomorrow but the two hot headed boys couldn’t wait that long but they had too, all they could was hope that you could hold on till morning-till they came to save you. 

~~~~~~~~~~ “Put me down you freak!” Your voice was dry and hoarse but you continued to shout anyway hoping that someone would hear you. He jerked you around roughly, shutting you up as he roughly shoved you to the ground in an empty, cold, dark room. A pained gasp left your lips as the wind was knocked out of you. You tried to stand up but fell right back down as your body was too weak to move. 

“Pathetic. What a lame excuse for a hero.....” The villain continued on with his rambling. You tuned him out though, not listening to what he was saying as tears finally fell from your e/c eyes. You swallowed thickly, trying to steady your breathing and keep quiet. A sudden kick to your side pressed you against the wall before the guy left the room, the large metal door slamming against the stone walls, the sound echoing around the empty room. 

That's when it hit you. You were stuck in here and couldn’t get out. The sobs escaped your body harshly, straining your throat with each sob that left your mouth. You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly against your body as you cried. It was cold and dark, you had no idea where you were and you know for a fact that you were making Kirishima and Bakugo worry. 

Eventually the crying slowed down, and you drifted off to sleep. You hadn’t known how long you had been sleeping in that spot for but the loud sounds of explosions and things breaking woke you up. People were shouting and loud noises were going off everywhere.

“I said where is she!” You recognized that all to familar deep, raspy voice. It was Bakugo. You didn’t have to wait long for the door to burst open, the sudden light blinding you for a moment. You couldn’t fully see yet but the minute Bakugos arms wrapped around your frame you knew it was him.

You embraced each other for a few minutes, crying into each other’s shoulders as another pair of arms wrapped around the two of you as kirishima joined the group hug. After a few more minutes the boys pulled away, kirishima picked you up bridal style while Bakugo secured a safe path for your exit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Her wounds aren’t severe, just a few cuts and bruises. She did hit her head though, so expect a headache for a few days. With some rest and this-“ recovery girl stopped talking, pausing to reach in her bag to grab a small bottle of pain killers. “This will help the pain. Now now, I’ve got to run” she handed Kirishima the bottle of pills before packing up her bag and off to the next person.

Your two boys stood in front of you with tired, angry, yet relieved looks on their faces. More tired than anything. Kirishima was the first to speak, setting the pill bottle on the make shift hospital bed you were sitting on.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked, placing one of his arms next to you while the other supported him inbetween your legs. He gently rested his head on your shoulder, leaning over slightly as he gave your neck soft kisses. You sighed in content, mumbling a soft “mhm” in response.

“You had us worried there dumbass” Bakugo chimed in, taking the other place next to you and resting his head on top of yours. His big warm hand embraced your small one, rubbing his thumb over your bruised knuckles as he leaned his head against yours. You sighed in content, happy to be back with your boys. You melted into them, loving the warmth that came with being sandwiched between the two muscular hero’s.

You gave Bakugo a slow peck on the cheek as Kirishima nuzzled into you more, his hot breath hitting against your collar bone.

“Come on you two. Let’s get home” you smiled sleepily, holding your arms up for one of them to carry you. They both let out a chuckle at your whiny, sleepy, baby state. They were beyond tired but greateful that you were okay.

[cherryskyies]

Slashers reacting to their S/O being injured.

This includes Freddy, Michael, Jason, and Hannibal (TV show version)

For those of you that have been following my account for a bit: Yes, I know something like this is out of the blue because of what I normally write (ATLA, Harry potter) but I really wanted to try something new!

Please spare me I’ve n e v e r written for the slashers before okay-

Main Masterlist

Jason Voorhees

You were taking a walk through the woods when your foot caught on a tree root and tripped you, landing you on your left side on top of a pile of broken glass. It was obvious that the glass pile belonged to the new group of campers

It hurt, like a lot. You wanted to lay there until Jason found you but decided against it, not wanting to seem weak. If Jason could drown you could deal with a little glass so you forced yourself up.

Who knew picking shards of glass out of your skin could hurt so much. Blood trailed down your arm and onto the ground, creating a tiny puddle you’d have to clean up before Jason came home. “Come on (Y/N), only a couple more to go.” You whispered, using the tweezers to grab another piece.

You tried to hide the gash on your arm from him, key word: tried. When Jason arrived home shortly after you wrapped your arm he was suspicious.

He noticed how you kept your left arm limp at your side and actively kept pressure off of it.

It was bedtime when he confronted you about it. In your 5 years of dating Jason, he’s never seen you sleep on your right side. His mother also noticed and pushed for her son to check on the lovely girl.

He stood above you on the side of the bed. “What is it Jason?” Though, you had a gut feeling he was going to ask about your arm.

Bingo, he pointed at your left arm and made a sleeve lifting motion.

You internally groaned. He’d never let you take walks alone again.

you took off your shirt entirely since it would hurt less. Your poorly wrapped wound stung at the movement. It had stopped bleeding a while ago but the once white gauze was painted red. 

He’d freak out, almost wrecking the house in the process but his mother’s warnings made him decide against it. 

After you explained what happened, he left. Putting on his mask, taking his machete with him and returning home later covered in the blood of the campers you assumed.

Michael Myers

Michael was off on a killing spree and you were left home. He always refused to take you with him. Why? You wish you knew. (Secret is, he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt.)

Of course, you being the clumsy person you are, slipped on a stray piece of clothing and fell down the stairs

And let me tell you, it hurt like a bitch. You let yourself lay at the bottom of the stairs for a good 20 minutes before attempting to pull yourself up, which only ended in more pain as you put pressure on your right foot.

You fall to the ground again, a chain of swear words leaving your mouth in the process.

You had two options: Wait for Michael to return home and help you or never tell him this happened and try to hide your pain.

You chose the second option obviously. 

Being the smart person you were, you crawled your ass back up those stairs.

You don’t even want to think about how pathetic you looked.

There wasn’t anything cold upstairs and there was no way you were crawling back downstairs so instead you opted to fill the bathtub with cold water.

A hand on your shoulder startled you but your fear was quickly replaced with relief at Michael’s face…and then pure embarrassment. 

He tilted his head while looking at your foot then back to you. You chuckled nervously, “I fell down the stairs.” He shook his head and left.

Though it might seem like Michael doesn’t care, you woke up the next morning, foot resting on a pillow and a bag of frozen peas on your swollen ankle.

Freddy Krueger

How ironic. You were cooking bacon when you hit the handle of the pan making it flip off the stove and grease splash your exposed skin.

Pain. Absolute pain. Your first thought was ‘so this is what Freddy felt.’ Though, yours wasn’t nearly as bad. 

The grease had landed on your arm and the top part of your foot.

You already knew you wouldn’t be able to hide them from Freddy tonight so instead you placed some healing ointment on them and proceeded to wrap them in clean gauze.

They were going to scar, no doubt about it. But you didn’t mind. You figured if Freddy could live with it, so could you.

When he saw the bandages on your arm and foot he would be confused.

“Dear, what happened to you?” Was his first question. Believe it or not, if Freddy loves you he’ll actually care and be protective of you.

You’d explain what happened to him and he’d laugh at your stupidity and promise to never let you live this down

“You know, you’ll look pretty hot when they scar.”

Hannibal Lecter

You were trying to surprise him with dinner when you accidentally sliced your finger with the knife. The cut wasn’t too deep but it was still deep enough to hurt and bleed quite a bit. (Extra spice for the food if you ask me right-)

It was more annoying than it was pain. So with a frustrated groan, you cleaned up your finger and bandaged it before getting back to cooking.

By time he got home you finished setting up the table and greeted him with a kiss like usual.

It took him a total of 40 seconds to notice the bandage on your finger. 

Immediately, he’d *gently* grab your hand and examine it whilst his brows furrowed in confusion and slight anger.

“Who did this to you?” Would be his first question and you’d laugh and say you accidentally did this while cooking dinner.

“Perhaps you should leave the cooking to me, darling. Don’t need anymore unnecessary marks covering your beautiful skin.”

[havin-a-wee]

Stars Align

pairing: harry styles x y/n

warnings: fluff, ig you could consider it angst but its really just mysterious

word count: 2k

hello! i apologize for kind of disappearing, my fic rec account has kind of blown up and ive been super busy with that.

this is my entry for @sweetlygolden 's Harry On Holiday Challenge! i chose strangers in the same city, and the line prompt “That is the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen.” i honestly already have a part 2 planned out but we'll see how it goes!

“How much longer are you going to stare at that pretending like it’s interesting.”

Her soft voice surprised him, and he whipped his head around to see who had been speaking to him.

For the first time in a while, Harry was able to get away for a little. Of course, he travels a lot for work, but this was the first vacation since he can remember where he was alone, doing whatever he pleases. He chose Italy for this special occasion, because it’s always been one of his favorite places, and he missed the freedom of wandering around the boot shaped country without a care in the world.

The day's adventures had brought him to La Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna e Contemporanea, which is a museum that he's been wanting to see for quite some time. He started the day off by getting a cappuccino and a crespelle from a wonderful little cafe down the street from his hotel.

Right afterwards he walked to the museum, taking in the sights around him on the 20 minute trek to his destination. Before the woman behind him snatched his attention, he was staring at a painting of an abstract house. The house was only painted in blue, and the artist had used the different shades and tones of the color to create the details in the painting.

He had been staring at it for a good amount of time, which he assumed is what prompted the stranger to talk to him.

It’s his 3rd day on the trip, leaving him 4 more until he has to be back in L.A. for work. He has no plans, no schedules, no job to do. It’s just him and the world. At least, that’s what he assumed it would be. The vacation is supposed to be a solo one, however, he’s currently staring at a stranger that decided to speak to him. And for some reason, he is drawn to her. Compelled to spend time with her after just a simple sentence was spoken between the two of them.

When he fully turns around she jumped, a bit startled by his bright red complexion. “That is the worst sunburn I have ever seen!”

It was true, Harry had managed to get himself a nasty burn on the first day in Italy. He usually tans instead of getting a sunburn, but when you’re used to the dreary weather of the UK, it can be hard to forget how strong the sun is in other places.

So he had laid out on the beach and fell asleep, waking up a few hours later with tomato red skin and a burning sensation covering the exposed skin.

“That’s what happens when y’fall asleep on a beach in Rome,” he chuckled, smiling awkwardly at the woman before him.

She’s beautiful, there is absolutely no denying that. She was wearing a simple spaghetti-strap black dress that cut off right at the knee. There were no designs, no embellishments, just a black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her lips have a deep red lipstick smeared across them, and he couldn’t help but notice how the color complimented her skin tone. Her simple black pumps completed the outfit, and her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, with a few of the front strands falling out of the hair tie and framing her face.

“I’d assume so.” Her demeanor is serious, even though there's a smile on her face. She’s…..intimidating?

Harry hasn’t been intimidated by anything since he was a teenager. Once you perform in front of thousands of screaming people, who also happen to idolize you, things don’t tend to phase a person anymore.

But for some reason, her presence caused butterflies to fly around in his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. He actually enjoyed the feeling, it reminded him of when everything was normal.

What also reminded him of normality was the fact that she seems to not have the slightest clue of who he is. If she does, she’s sure as hell good at hiding it.

“You’ve been looking at the same painting for 10 minutes, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” A small laugh escaped her lips, and the noise agitated the fluttering butterflies residing in his tummy. Her voice is mesmerizing, and she sounds like what Harry imagines an angel to sound like. She has an American accent, and it eased his nerves slightly that she was also a tourist.

He turned back to the painting to look at it, but it was also convenient in that she wouldn’t be able to see his undoubtedly flushed cheeks.

“Yeah m’not sure what it is ‘bout it but there’s somethin’ special with this one.”

“That’s Prismi lunari by Fortunato Depero, he was very talented.” Harry spun around once again to face her, shocked at her knowledge of the random artwork.

“You know that off of the top of your head?” He tilts his head and looks at her, furrowing his brows in confusion. He’s pretty sure there was no label for the painting, and if there was it was way too small for her to see from where she’s standing.

“I know a lot of things.”

The statement was simple, but Harry wondered if her words paired with the smirk on her face are code for something else. “How long have you been here?” Her question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at her and smiled. He flicks his wrist and directs his attention to it, reading the Gucci watch adorning his wrist.

“Well I got here at 11, so about 5 hours.” It honestly surprised him when he realized it was 4 o’clock, but he knows how wrapped up he gets in artwork so he must have lost track of time.

“Jesus christ! I can barely stand to walk around a museum for an hour!” She blows out a puff of air, mocking being out of breath. They both laugh at her comment, Harry laughing a bit harder than her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! M’Harry, s’nice to meet you.” He stuck out his ring-clad hand, and her delicate fingers wrapped around his as she shook it.

“Well Harry, wanna get out of here and walk around with someone who knows the city?” She points at herself, and the small smile she gave him earlier transformed into a silly grin.

“Well m’not sure how well an American can know the city, but I’ll bite.” Usually he would never do this. Going off with strangers is never a good idea, especially because of his status. But there’s something about the girl that makes Harry feel safe. They had just met yet he feels like he could trust her with things he hasn’t even told his best friends.

“An American who’s been living here for a year, that is.” His eyebrows raise slightly, intrigued by her new admission. But before he can even open his mouth to speak, she grabs his wrist with her daintily manicured hand and whisks him out of the quiet museum.

The air was humid, quickly drawing beads of sweat from his forehead. He’s also quite baffled at how she was completely unphased. Not a single drop of sweat was dripping on her body, her soft skin untouched like an old porcelain doll, preserved for years in perfect condition.

“I’ll show you around a little, we can go to this wonderful little vintage store I know.” She had turned to face him, her hand moving from his wrist to cup his one hand in both of hers. “Um- at least, if you want to.” For the first time, she was nervous. Although she will never admit it, Harry makes her extremely nervous. Extremely.

When he turned around when they first met, her jump of surprise wasn’t just because of his bright sunburn. In fact, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about how fucking attractive he is. He really looks like one of the statues that was put up in the museum. His sparkling green eyes send a shiver down her spine, and the tattoos peaking through his thin white t-shirt cause a fire to build in her stomach.

Having someone to talk too while he traversed the streets of Rome is a lot more enjoyable than Harry had anticipated. He purposefully told all of his friends that he was going to be MIA while on this trip. But the fact that she is a stranger changes it in some way, in a good way.

The cobblestone streets are surprisingly smooth, and they walk next to each other in a comfortable silence for a long amount of time. The silence would only break when she would point out something in their field of vision. At one point, Harry pauses, standing still in the middle of the street with a thinking look on his face. He realizes that he doesn’t know her name, which seems ridiculous to him because they were walking around a foreign country like the best of friends. She turns to him, matching his confused look when they lock eyes. “I just realized I don’t know y’name.”

Instead of reacting like he would expect one to react when asked that question, her pupils dilated and for some reason she appears to be scared. Why would someone be scared when you ask for their name?

‘Maybe she thinks her name is embarrassing’ Harry thought, still looking at her with a confused look, but now it was laced with a bit of suspicion.

He watches her sigh, and her hand went up to her ponytail and pulled the black elastic out, her soft hair cascading down her shoulders. With another sigh she said, “Y/N. My names Y/N.”

“That’s a really beautiful name.”

“Oh! There’s the store!”

He found it odd that she was so eager to switch the subject, but goes along with it nonetheless.

The vintage store is lovely, and Harry was able to find a beautiful ring and necklace set, matching gold roses on both of them. They looked around the shop for about 15 minutes, Harry being the only one to make a purchase.

The sun had set by the time they went outside, which isn’t surprising considering that it was almost dark when they walked into the little shop. They stood, facing each other outside of this small little shop in Rome. Two strangers, who just happened to cross each other's path. Harry knows this won’t last forever, and he also knows that he wants to see her again. In a leap of faith, he pulls the gold necklace out of the small brown bag and looks up at her.

“Here, I got them so we could match.” It was bold, but Harry feels connected to this girl, and he doesn’t know it, but she feels the exact same. The smile she gave him when he handed her the necklace was bright and genuine, the creases next to her eyes proving its authenticity. He motioned for her to turn around, wrapping the necklace around her neck and clasping it while she held up her hair.

“Thank you Harry. This is the best day I’ve had in a while.”

“Likewise.”

“I hate to do this, but I have to go. Have a wonderful rest of your trip Harry.”

It was then that she placed a small, tender peck on his lips, barely lingering for a second before pulling away.

“Wait! Can I get y’number?” Her smile slanted into a smirk, and she pulled a small card and a pen out of her small black clutch. She placed the card up against the brick wall, leaning it against it and scribbling something down on the paper. When she finished writing, she pressed her lips against the card, handing it to Harry.

He looked down at it, expecting to see a series of numbers, but he was met with a simple note, scribbled on the piece of cardstock next to the red lip print she had left.

May the stars align in our favor once again. - Y/N

He looked up frantically, planning to ask her to write her number down as well, but he was met with nothing.

She had disappeared into the night, leaving as quickly as she appeared earlier that day.

[sweeethinny]

Wildflower

Summary: Lily thought she was doing okay, trying to believe that at the end of the path there would be a light, but the further she walked, the darker it got. Trapped in fear and in all those feelings that collapsed in her chest and made her feel smaller and smaller, Lily tried to save herself as she struggled to change the course of her story.

AO3 | FF.NET | PLAYLIST

Notes: This story was born out of a very strong desire of mine to write about good cheerleaders, and a friendlier atmosphere among the girls, and not that silly, unpleasant competition that we always see in books. Jily is the main couple, other couples will appear as the story progresses, but they are the main ones, and as much as Lily has been dating Snape at the beginning, this story is *NOT* a romance story between the two of them. This story is about Lily and James!

This story will talk about abusive relationships, but I promise it will have a happy ending.

------

| J. P |

The party was full, tumultuous as usual, the music loud, the side conversations making everything seem even more confusing, the drinks glasses never emptying in people's hands, and the more the night fell, the more it seemed that everyone was less caught up in the shyness of the beginning. Some freshmen were already dancing on the table, others challenged the seniors to a beer pong, and some tried their luck with the older ones.

James walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, already feeling very drunk, needing to shake his head so that the three redheads in the corner became just one, as well as trying to make sure his feet worked well enough for him not to trip over his own sneaker. The kitchen of the house seemed full of obstacles now, all the cabinets seemed to move like a video game, preventing him from continuing to walk normally, which made him even more confused as to where he had to go.

He shouldn't have accepted Sirius' stupid idea of ​​starting drinking before everyone else arrived, because now James could barely focus his vision and… Where were his glasses?

"Hi," he said, and his tongue felt bigger than his mouth. What was in that drink? ‘'Have you seen my glasses?'’ The red-haired girl seemed to be trying hard not to laugh, and James thought that if it weren't for her hair, the black outfit she was wearing would make him think she was part of the furniture and not a person .

"Hm…" She seemed to think, but James didn't understand why. Then her delicate hand reached up to touch his eyes, and he took a step back, startled, but instead of feeling her fingers, he felt nothing. "They're onyour face, but they're a little dirty."

"Thanks!" James sighed in relief, picking up his glasses to clean them; this time the redhead became five instead of one. Either he was really drunk, or he really needed to see an ophthalmologist. "You're very kind." He pointed to what he thought was the real girl.

'’Is this guy bothering you Lily?'’ A voice rang out loud behind James, he didn't know who it was but he knew the person wasn't as nice as the redhead, since he was pulled away from her and nearly knocked to the ground for his lack of balance. The person however didn't care. "Get away from her, you asshole."

"I wasn't doing anything." They were the same height, James could see that, and he had long black hair, almost matching Sirius'. But he knew he couldn't be him, because the voice wasn't the same, but also because the man in front of him was weaker and thinner than Black. "Hey!" James tried to defend himself as he was pushed again.

"Sev, stop it." The redhead pleaded, and this time her voice wasn't as cheerful as before, as if all of her happiness had suddenly been sucked away.

But before James could say anything, the man punched him in the face, and if it had been normal, he would have defended himself or maybe retaliated, but he was drunk, very drunk, so his body just fell back and James felt his head ache.

"Severus!" The redhead yelled, but James didn't remember much after that, because everything seemed like a jumble of thoughts and people were all blurs. At some point he remembers hearing Sirius' voice saying ''He's drunk, what the fuck do you have in your mind!?'' and, it seemed, a few minutes later he heard the redhead's voice saying ''He's bleeding.'' and it was the last thing James' drunk brain could understand.

| L. E |

"Why did you have to screw it up?!" Lily asked, annoyed and frustrated by all the drama. It was so tiring, always this fear that something would piss him off and he would completely lose his mind, and then Lily would have all those looks at her, a mixture of pity and judgment.

The party was supposed to be a different, relaxed time, they were supposed to have fun, have a drink, and Lily was finding it all good. Well, she had been in the kitchen since they arrived, but at least they were there so she couldn't complain.

She laughed when one of the freshmen climbed onto the table and nearly fell, or when she saw that boy come into the kitchen and looked more drunk than anyone else at the party, barely able to walk in a straight line, wondering where his glasses were. It was so fun to be surrounded by so much life, it was as if in that party there was no sadness and loneliness.

But he had to ruin all her happiness, like he always did.

'’Me? Are you going to blame me?’’ Snape yelled, even though he knew their friends were sleeping. Lily shook her head, too tired to fight, putting a hand to her temples to try to get her thoughts to sort themselves out in her mind. Take a deep breath, Lily, she thought, take a deep breath and count to ten.

"You're the one who punched him needlessly." Lily looked at him, trying to find in him that friend he'd once been, kind, lovely, who said he'd give the world to her. But now, Severus had turned into this man who seemed to have only two moods; completely angry or tame like a well-trained dog.

"He was touching you," he muttered, and anger seemed to burn in his black eyes. Which was reflected in the burning in Lily's chest.

‘’He wasn't touching me. He was drunk and wanted to know where his glasses were.” She said through clenched teeth, trying to take a few deep breaths before she exploded as usual, acting crazy and screaming whatever came to mind without a second thought. She needed to have more control of her feelings.

‘’Are you really dumb enough to believe that? He just wanted to fuck you.” Severus retaliated, and that made her take a step back into their small room, her calf touching the old sofa they had bought when they moved. Her eyes burned, tears of sadness and anger, mixtures that felt like sulfuric acid on her skin, but she wouldn't let them fall, not even one.

Severus seemed to realize the mistake he had made then, and his armor fell away, reverting to that tame dog.

"Lils, I didn't mean that." He sighed, as if he was the one tired of having to explain himself. It made her feel much smaller than before, making Lily think that maybe she could just disappear at any moment.

'’Forget it, I'm going to sleep'’ Lily tried to leave the room towards their bedroom but, as usual, Severus grabbed her arm and kept her there, his black eyes now seeming softer, as if all the anger had melted away and turned into sugar.

"I'm sorry, I just… I thought he was doing you something bad and I wanted to protect you." Severus kissed her, even though Lily hadn't shown she wanted it. "I love you so much and I would die before I let anyone hurt you," he whispered, his lips still too close to hers. '’Forgive me for this.'’

But she couldn't say anything, Lily just nodded because she was too tired to fight, and she already felt small and insufficient enough.

He just wanted to protect me, she thought, he loves me and he thought I was in danger, Lily mused, trying to make a rational part of her understand this once and for all.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Scalding🔥

A/N: Hello everyone! So, this is actually my first ever Levi x Reader fic. I usually write IzuOcha stuff for MHA on my other blog, xxpadfootxx, but I decided I’d give this a shot. Nobody asked for this, and I apologize in advance if it’s shitty. Thanks for reading anyway, and I hope you enjoy! Requests are open if you guys like this stuff and I have more works on the way so stay tuned!

Warning: this is both angsty and fluffy and very long. I didn’t mean for it to get this long, sorry 😬

~~~ Levi felt nothing but numb self hatred. Blood stained his clothes, some of it even smeared in his hair. Sweat was slicked over his body, making him shiver as it cooled on his skin. Mud and grime covered him from head to toe, but for the first time in his entire life, he had very little desire to actually clean himself.

The Captain ignored everyone he passed, words were beyond him anyway, caught in his throat as he struggled to breathe. He knew to other people he looked almost unaffected, his head held up high and his stride unfaltering as he made his way through the Survey Corps headquarters, but on the inside, he was a raging mess, his emotions threatening to boil over at any second. 

Nobody noticed how his gaze seemed just slightly less focused than normal. Nobody noticed that the look on his face was not his usual scowl, rather, that the lines were deeper, angrier as he battled with his own heart. Nobody noticed how his shoulders were almost imperceptibly slouched, everyone too caught up in their own grief and affairs to worry about the person they all thought was made of stone, the person they all thought was emotionless, cold, and unfaltering in his strength. Nobody, but one.

(Y/N) (L/N) was walking beside her fellow Squad Leader, Hanji, pretending to listen to the bespeckled woman talk about their new plan of attack on the Female Titan, her entire attention focused solely on the raven-haired man walking towards her. Levi bypassed the two of them without any sign that he had even seen them, his eyes slightly clouded, his mind obviously preoccupied with more important thoughts than what was going on around him.

(Y/N) glanced around her, her (e/c) eyes scanning the faces of the soldiers walking around nearby, searching their expressions to see if any of them were paying attention to the emotional state of their Captain, to see if they could even tell that something was clearly wrong with him. A quick survey of the room told her that she was the only one who had noticed. It didn’t surprise her much. 

It saddened her a bit, but she wasn’t surprised. Levi was excellent at hiding what he was thinking, shuttering the emotion in his expressions, and standing up tall despite the obvious weight on his shoulders, the emotional burden he carried. But (Y/N) had known him since her time in the Underground.

The pair had met when they were both very young, fending for themselves after Kenny had abandoned Levi, (Y/N) hiding him in her ramshackle hovel of a home when he was running from the merchants he had thieved from. They had quickly come to realize how effective they were as a team, surviving together until they met Farlan and eventually Isabel. They had been busted together, brought up to the surface together, fought in the expedition together that had resulted in the deaths of their two closest friends, the pair refusing to be separated by anything, no matter what. 

Now they were both high ranking officers in the military, having gone through the worst of the worst together. She knew Levi was the best at suppressing his emotions, no matter how strong they were. But he could hide nothing from her.

(Y/N) didn’t say a word as she gently placed her hand on Hanji’s shoulder, her way of wordlessly excusing herself, before turning on her heel and following where she had seen Levi disappear around the corner.

____________________________

Levi’s mind was on autopilot as he stepped into his private bathroom, reaching into the shower to turn the water to scalding without really thinking. Slowly, he peeled off his uniform, wincing slightly as the dried blood pricked his skin as it was ripped off of him, and threw it in the corner, his mind so hazy he didn’t care about the mess.

When he was bare, he stepped under the spray, wincing as the water seared his back. He held in his scream of rage, his sob of despair, merely hanging his head and standing under the shower head, the water sluicing off his body and the steam fogging up the entire bathroom. 

It was his fault. All. His. Fault. He was their Captain, had been, at least. They had depended on him and he had failed them, watched them as each of his squad was crushed underneath the Female Titan’s rage, their faces contorted in fear. The image of their lifeless eyes, their broken bodies, their flesh stained with blood as they laid in puddles of their own intestines, or hung from tree branches, half of their bodies hanging on an entirely different branch from the other half. Eld, Gunther, Oulo, Petra… they were all gone and he was to blame.

 A small whine escaped his lips despite his efforts to suppress it, his body beginning to shake despite the scalding temperature of the water. All his fault. He was useless. Fucking useless.

Everyone he cared about he was destined to lose. He could see that now as memories of his friends and family flashed in his head. His sweet, abused mother, cooing to him gently, before the memory shifted to the moment of her death, when he was wearing one of her blouses and begging her to wake up, fat tears rolling down his small cheeks. His best friends, laughing and teasing him, loving him despite his surly attitude, before the memory shifted to Isabel’s decapitated head lying lifelessly on the ground as he stared at it, horrified. 

And now his squad, the bright memories of them following him dutifully, training by his side, following his every order as they trusted him to make the right decisions. Their laughter filled his head, their bright smiles and loud cheering whenever they were together, paying no mind to his grumbling, knowing he wasn’t truly annoyed when they were having fun, just so long as they didn’t get too out of hand. The memories shifted again, their laughter rising from shrill squeals into panicked screams, the sound getting louder and louder in his head until his legs could no longer support him.

Levi slowly fell to his knees, his head hanging low as a few stray tears dripped down his cheeks, their pleas echoing in his ears and the sound of their bodies getting crushed thundering in his heart.

“LEVI!”

“Captain! Please!”

“Save us, Levi! Please, gods please no!!!”

“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

“This is all your fault! We trusted you!”

“Why did you have to lead us to our deaths, Levi? I wasn’t ready to leave yet…”

Levi choked on a sob as his body shook harder, his shoulders shaking. His hair fell down to cover his face but he didn’t move to brush it away, his hands curled into fists where they rested on his thighs. He was such a fucking disgrace, so fucking disgusting, why did he even try? It was clear he was destined to be alone forever, not only that but it was clear that everyone he was around was lost, so why even fucking bother?

A watery image suddenly fluttered across his mind, giving him pause. It was the image of a woman with a beaming smile, the corners of her lips curving upwards wickedly as she looked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischievous intent. Her face was bright and full, her eyes sharp yet loving as she watched his back. His best friend. (Y/N).

She had been with him pretty much since the beginning. When he had met her, he had immediately been drawn to her, the small girl hiding him from the authorities without hesitation when he had passed by her filthy hovel, desperately searching for an escape route. After she had saved him, he had originally been wary of her, just as he had been with everyone in the Underground, automatically expecting her to want something from him in return for saving his ass. But to his surprise, she had merely wanted to help him, no malicious intent in her gaze.

He had also been surprised by her strength. She was his age, and at the time, she had also been alone, having lost both of her parents at a young age too, her mother abandoning her after her father died. After learning this, Levi had expected her to be sensitive and weak, maybe even wracked with illness like most of the children in the Underground, but she had quickly dispelled that notion, always on par with him, and able to go toe to toe with him in battle, keeping his mind sharp and his reflexes on point. 

She was smart and surprisingly funny, the only person who could genuinely get a laugh out of him, a luxury he knew she treasured and never abused despite her teasing nature. She was a sly little fox that was for sure, but gods did he love her. She had never failed him, always knowing exactly how to treat him. 

He hadn’t lost her. Not yet. He couldn’t lose her, could never lose her. He wanted to fight for her, to keep going for her, but the hatred he felt for himself, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that flooded him, doused his thoughts of fighting back, making him feel nothing more than a throbbing exhaustion, his eyes fluttering closed as he surrendered to his negative thoughts, his body shaking even worse than before.

Then he felt it. The softest touch of light fingers on his chin. Opening his eyes slowly, his head was lifted, his gaze locking on the (e/c) eyes that were never too far from his thoughts and haunted his heated dreams.

_______________________

(Y/N) had followed Levi to his room but had given him enough distance so he wouldn’t know she was there. She knew under normal circumstances that he would’ve noticed her immediately, his sharp senses never missing anything, but with him in this particular emotional state, lost deep in the labyrinth of his despair and his grief, she knew she could remain undetected.

She desperately wanted to comfort her best friend, but knew that even like this, he would be irritated if he discovered she was trying to help, too worried about keeping up appearances to want to accept her help, even despite their past together. So (Y/N) hung back, waiting for the right moment to confront him.

She had waited until she knew he was in the shower before entering his bedroom from where she had been waiting in his office, sitting on the edge of his bed while she waited for him to get out.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Then forty.

When an hour had passed, (Y/N) stood and knocked on his bathroom door, worry gnawing at her gut. When she received no response, (Y/N) took a deep breath and gently pushed open the door.

The entire bathroom was fogged up with steam, to the point where it made her eyes water, her hand coming up to wipe at her now damp brow.

“Levi?”

(Y/N) rounded the corner and gasped at the sight. She had never ever seen Levi like this. Even when they had comforted each other after Isabel’s and Farlan’s deaths, he had never looked like this. Like he had completely given up.

He was sitting on the floor of his shower, his head hanging low as he cried, his whole body shaking like he had a fever. His normally pale skin was an angry red, a testament to the temperature of the water. She could tell he didn’t even know she was there.

Swallowing hard, (Y/N) didn’t hesitate to approach him, keeping her eyes up determinedly as she made her way to him. She crouched, gently touching his chin with her fingers when he still didn’t respond to her kneeling in front of him.

Her eyes bored into his when he met her gaze, his normally bright silver eyes glazed over with sorrow and self-loathing. She honestly didn’t even know if he could really see her, too lost in his own world to really know who he was looking at.

(Y/N)’s gaze hardened as she looked into those empty eyes. This was not the Levi she knew. She knew in that moment, as she looked into the soul of her closest friend, the one who had been with her through thick and thin, and the one who would likely be with her until the end, (Y/N) knew that she would hate nothing more than the look on his face right now.

(Y/N) finally managed to tear her gaze away from his and reached over, hissing at the heat of the water as it burned her bare arm, the tank top she always wore beneath her Survey Corps jacket doing nothing to protect her skin as she turned the handle down, involuntarily sighing a bit as the water cooled.

Levi did not react to the temperature change, he just remained sitting, his eyes closed once more. (Y/N) ignored the worry that clawed at her stomach at his unresponsiveness, and moved to stand behind him, grabbing the shampoo bottle and kneeling down so she was at eye level with his back and shoulders. (Y/N) didn’t mind the feeling of her clothes getting immediately soaked as she set her entire focus on her hurting friend.

“I’m going to wash you, now,” (Y/N) said, and without waiting for a response, knowing she wouldn’t get one, (Y/N) got to work.

Squeezing the soap into her palms, (Y/N) got to work carefully scrubbing the filth from his hair, running her fingers through the raven black strands until the crusted over patches from the blood had been returned to their normal smooth softness. She worked the suds into his scalp, digging her fingers in until it was cleaned to her, and therefore his, satisfaction. Gently grabbing his shoulders, she pulled him under the spray and used her fingers once more to rinse the soap from his hair, making sure she washed it from under every strand so he wouldn’t be itchy later.

As soon as his hair had been soaped and washed, she moved onto his shoulders, grabbing the sponge on his shelf and applying more soap to his skin. Her touch was gentle but firm, almost reverent as she washed him, scrubbing the grime from his body with the utmost care. (Y/N) moved onto his shoulder blades and the rest of his upper back before switching to the front, forcing her eyes to stay modest as she focused on the hard planes of his chest, washing each individual groove with the sponge, the blood and the filth giving under the pressure of the soap and the sponge to slide down the drain.

When she got to just above his belly button, (her eyes latched onto his face like a lifeline), she grabbed his hand and placed the sponge in his palm, meeting his gaze with a smile at the light that she could see starting to return to his silver hues.

“I’ll leave the bottom half for you to enjoy,” (Y/N) said, her tone light but sensitive to his still fresh pain, before moving behind him again and raising her hands to condition his hair.

Levi said nothing as he washed the rest of his body, his mind short circuiting at the feeling of (Y/N)’s nimble fingers running through his hair. He felt like he was going crazy when he had the urge to moan and press his head against her hand like a cat, his eyes widening as he forced the feeling down and focused on washing himself.

When he was all clean, (Y/N) shut off the water and grabbed ahold of both of his hands, gently leading him out of the shower and into the bathroom which had finally been cleared of steam. Grabbing a towel, (Y/N) wrapped it around his waist and tied in the front before grabbing another towel and reaching up to dry his hair, scrubbing at the mussed locks until they were fluffy and dry. 

Moving on, (Y/N) dried his upper body, taking special care to run the towel along the grooves of his muscles, soaking up every drop of moisture.

Since he was covered this time, (Y/N) leaned down and dried his legs herself, keeping her gaze locked on the tiles of the bathroom floor as she dragged the fluffy cloth over his skin. Moving around him, (Y/N) was careful to blot at the welts on his back from the water that had burned him, dabbing around the spots and murmuring soft apologies whenever he winced.

When he was finally dry, (Y/N) threw the towel she had been using into the corner with his discarded clothes and dragged him into his room, quickly moving to his dresser so she could pull out some clothes for him. She originally thought to grab a shirt and some pants, but one look at him showed her that he was barely able to stand on his own, let alone get fully dressed.

Handing him a pair of his boxers, (Y/N) turned to give him some privacy as she heard him drop his towel and shuffle around to put his underwear on. When he was decent, (Y/N) helped him into his bed, pulling back the sheets and slowly pushing him down onto the pillows, her fingers lightly pressing his chest.

“Rest,” was all (Y/N) said as she quickly turned and headed back into the bathroom, pausing only to grab a shirt of his, her own clean clothes still in her room several halls over.

 She stripped and bathed quickly, faster than she ever had before, hopping out of the shower and throwing on Levi’s shirt before sliding her underwear over her thighs just underneath where the shirt covered her, the garment a little big on her.

Opening the bathroom door quietly, (Y/N) peeked her head inside before tiptoeing out of the bathroom towards the door leading to his office, hoping to let him get some sleep for once, now that he was clean. She made it to the door, her fingers resting on the handle when her name being called in the softest voice she had ever heard made her pause.

Turning around slowly, (Y/N) saw Levi watching her, his silver eyes wide as he stared at her. He looked so young at that moment, almost scared. Her heart clenched, he was so open right now, so vulnerable, even in all of her time with him, she had never seen him this bare before her, his emotions laid out for her to see in their entirety for the first time in his life.

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate to move to him, her eyes never breaking from his intense stare as she approached him. When she finally got close enough, his arm shot out, his hand grasping her wrist and squeezing once. A silent plea. A call for help, the kind he didn’t know how to voice out loud. The kind he never had voiced out loud before.

Suddenly, in that moment, (Y/N) realized how stupid it would’ve been for her to leave. She needed to be by his side, just as she always had. (Y/N) glanced at the spot on the bed beside him. They had shared a bed before, but that hadn’t been since their time in the Underground, when they were forced to share, both to keep warm when the lack of sun made the temperatures decline to near freezing and because they only had one filthy mattress for a while, when they lived in that pathetic shack together. Ever since they had come to the surface, they had been in their own quarters, as was expected of them. 

Pausing for only a second longer, (Y/N) nodded. She saw Levi swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and chose to ignore it as she made her way to the other side of the bed, not wanting to think about him being as nervous about this as she was. She needed to comfort him right now, not let her stupid feelings get in the way. She needed to be focused, not flustered.

Levi shifted over slightly to give her more room as (Y/N) lifted up the covers on her end and slid into the bed beside her best friend, laying back into the pillows. She expected him to roll over onto his side and slowly fall asleep like she knew he usually did. Or she expected him to lay on his back with his arms behind his head, his eyes closing gently as she turned away from him. It was how they had slept in the Underground when sharing a mattress together.

What she did not expect was for Levi to immediately throw his arms around her, hugging her close and pulling her to him, burying his face in the curve of her neck while his arms squeezed her tightly.

(Y/N) gasped loudly at the sudden action, her face flushing despite her attempts to cool the flames in her cheeks. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, something she knew he felt as the corners of his mouth twitched upward, his face snuggling even closer to her. Her breathing was erratic as she felt his own warm breath fanning out over her neck as it slowed and evened out. She realized a few moments later that he had finally fallen asleep.

(Y/N) could still feel the shock coursing through her, but she managed to calm herself down enough to gently run her fingers through his hair, the strands now silky and unbelievably soft after his shower.

It was relaxing, (Y/N) realized, comforting her hurting friend, as she watched him in wonder while he slept against her. She had always been closer to him than almost anyone on the planet, but even then she had never been this close, physically and emotionally. He had never cuddled up to her before and vice versa.

It was just a line they had never crossed, not wanting to make the other feel uncomfortable or ruin the strong friendship they had with each other despite the growing feelings they had for one another, merely dancing around their relationship as they ignored the pulls of their hearts.

Now, (Y/N) wondered if this wasn’t opening some sort of door for them, as her eyelids grew heavy and she started to yawn. Eventually, (Y/N) completely relaxed against Levi, sighing in bliss as she cuddled up to him, feeling him just barely squeeze her tighter as she lost consciousness.

______________________________

Levi groaned softly as the light attacked his face, his silver eyes blinking open and squinting at the window where the shades had been left open, the sun streaming into his room in bright beams. Grumbling in annoyance, Levi went to turn so he could slide out of bed and shut those damn blinds when he suddenly realized… he couldn’t move. Glancing down, Levi’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he remembered the events of the night before as he stared down at his best friend. 

(Y/N) was still fast asleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically as she breathed deeply. Levi’s mind replayed what had happened last night. He had felt so lost, so empty inside. He had never felt that way before, like he wanted to give up. The closest he had ever gotten to that point was when his mother had been ripped away from him at four years old, not knowing what to do at such a young age other than wait to die. 

But the grief, the hopelessness, the depression that had piled up on him, it wasn’t just from the death of his squad, it was the result of years and years worth of loss. He had just lost all control, both of the situation and himself, and had fallen so far off the edge he hadn’t been able to pull himself back out again, not like he had done in the past.

And then there was (Y/N). The shining light to his world, the one who threw a rope around his waist and tugged, bringing him back from the sorrow and the darkness and the demons. She had lost so much too, her own friends being ripped away from her, her family reduced to none other than himself. The world had been just as cruel to her as it had been to him. He remembered now that Petra had been a good friend of (Y/N)’s, the two often bonding while they rode their horses on the trails around headquarters.

And she had still been the one to bring him back. To save him. He felt like he had just been pulled back from death, yanked back into the brightness of life by the one person who had never left him, the one who refused to.

His eyes roved over her sleeping form, really took in everything about her. He smiled, genuinely smiled with something wicked playing on his lips as he caught sight of her wearing nothing but his shirt and her flimsy underwear, but he forced himself to behave and move on from that fun little detail. 

He took in the way her (h/l) (h/c) hair splayed out across the pillows, the way her soft skin seemed to almost glow in the early morning light. She looked so peaceful, her face curled into his chest, her hands balled into fists in between their bodies, her leg thrown over his waist like she owned it, her body naturally tilted so that she was almost sprawled across him.

Levi used the arm that was still loosely wrapped around her to softly run his fingers up and down her spine through his shirt, his other hand coming up to run through her locks. He grunted a little at how fucking soft her hair was and suddenly seemed to realize how good she smelled, how smooth her skin was, how fucking gorgeous she was, cuddled up to him as she slept, how shockingly beautiful her sharp (e/c) eyes were…

Levi jolted a little when he realized she was staring at him, her (e/c) eyes blinking owlishly a few times. Levi coughed awkwardly and removed his arm from around her as she moved to stretch.

“Good morning,” (Y/N) rasped as she stretched, her eyes closing at the satisfying pop of her shoulder blades.

“Morning,” Levi said gruffly, his husky voice sending shivers down (Y/N)’s spine.

“So… sleep well?” (Y/N) asked, obviously trying to diffuse the awkward atmosphere that had suddenly sprung up without their permission.

“Best I’ve had in years,” Levi answered honestly, smirking a little when (Y/N) whipped around to look at him.

“Really?” She asked in awe.

Levi nodded before reaching out and touching the back of her hand with the tips of his fingers.

“(Y/N), what you did for me, last night, um, thank you,” Levi said, his eyes drifting from hers in uncharacteristic embarrassment as he spoke. (Y/N) could’ve sworn some color even stained his cheeks.

He wished he could say more, damn him for being unable to express his feelings like a normal human being, but he figured he had gotten the point across when he looked into her face once more.

Smiling brighter than the sun, (Y/N) couldn’t help herself as she swooped down and kissed him on the lips, relishing in the warm, soft feel of them before pulling back. Her smile turned sultry then, as she caught sight of his shocked face and darkened eyes, his hair mussed from sleep and his body still only consisting of a pair of boxers under the sheets. She thought he looked absolutely delicious.

Levi’s eyes darkened further when he saw that sultry expression, the wicked light in her eyes as she stared at him. Suddenly, his heart was a roaring inferno in his chest, calling out for her as he let his gaze roam over her possessively, his own smile filled with a dark promise as he took in the sight of her wearing his shirt and almost nothing else, unashamedly this time.

“Anytime, Ackerman,” (Y/N) said, before the pair attacked each other, eager to get lost in each other, to forget the pain, and to start a new beginning, together.

~~~

A/N: I got the idea for this story from the book Crescent City by SJM. The story I wrote is original, but you will notice some similarities from a certain scene if you’ve read that book so I just wanted to mention it. This story is all my own but the idea was sparked from that novel.

(That book is fucking fantastic btw if you haven’t read it yet. Anything by SJM is amazing, but this one is one of my favorites, so quick plug for her books if you don’t already read her shit. 😂)

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.12

Chapter Twelve: Godspeed: Moving out and moving on. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.0k Warnings: mild swearing, heartbreak, jealousy, talk of breakup/s, serious angst, idiots being idiots, very mild fluff (? idk if you would call it that), this whole series is a real slow burn.

series masterlist

-

The solace circulating through your veins as you stared blankly at the packed cardboard boxes of your stuff was strange to say the least. It was undoubtedly odd to be feeling this content about a huge chunk of your life just, ending.

And so drastically for that matter.

You knew you should be feeling sad, mournful even. You were supposed to get married in a matter of months. You were on your way to live the rest of your life with who you believed was the right person. Ethan. Your person. The two of you were about to start looking for a forever home, think about starting a family. You were supposed to start your happily ever after.

Now, you had no fiancé and no place to call home. Yet what you felt as you stood in the half-empty apartment you once shared with Ethan was peace.

Because the heartbreak you were experiencing wasn't for your life with Ethan, it was for Spencer.

“Apart from these here, is there anything else that’s yours?” Luke asked, pointing to the boxes that currently held all of your attention.

You blinked and looked up at him, pausing your thoughts. “I have suitcases in the bedroom, and a few more things to grab from the kitchen.” You advised and he nodded quickly before proceeding to lift one of the cartons. 

You watched him leave and couldn't help but think back to the night you ended things with Ethan. How he stormed out before you even got to finish your reasoning and endless apologies; the sound of slamming doors echoing in your ears.

“You okay?” Tara asked, appearing in the doorframe you were currently examining. She shoot you concerned look. “Yeah... I’m just, I don’t know. I guess I’m not feeling what I should be feeling.” You replied averting your eyes to her. “I’m relieved of all things.”

“That’s normal.” She stated.

“Is it though? I’m going through a breakup, and a big one at that. Yet I haven't shed a single tear for Ethan and for what we lost. But with Spencer...” Your voice faded out and you quickly cleared your throat. “I guess I just thought despite everything I would at least feel a little bit sad.” You added, gently shrugging your shoulders.

“Y/N, if anything this proves Ethan wasn't the man for you.” Tara said simply and you nodded, desperately hoping she was right.

Which of course she was.

Tara and Penelope were the only two people on the team who knew the entire truth behind your engagement falling through, and the reasons why. Therefore, only the two ladies knew Ethan wasn't the person for you. Spencer was.

However, that fact remained unspoken.

With one last reassuring smile, Tara turned to the remaining stack of boxes and lifted one carefully. You followed suit, and the two of you made your way outside to the moving truck - where you found Luke and Penelope bickering about how best to fit everything.

“Words cannot express how grateful I am for your help today.” You glanced between the small group after placing the box you were holding at the back of the truck. “Thank you, seriously.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Luke expressed with a wide grin. “Yeah, what kind of friends would we be if we let you do this alone.” Penelope chimed in, her lips twirling upwards.

You couldn't help but smile back at them before turning your attention to Tara. “And thank you for letting me stay in your spare room while I find a place of my own.” She playfully rolled her eyes at your words. “I wouldn't have it any other way girl.”

“Now, we better finish up and get moving if we want to make Rossi’s dinner on time.” She added and all four of you promptly got back to work.

Evenings at Rossi’s were something you always looked forward to greatly. A delicious home cooked meal, an abundance of wine, and quality time spent with your second family. The most perfect mix.

Tonight was no different. The evening was an escape.

See, you had recently fallen victim to crude office gossip. News of your broken engagement spread like wildfire. People had their own theories and speculations as to what really happened. And they weren't shy about adding their own five cents to the story.

Everyone present at the dinner however, knew better than to ask about details of your failed relationship. Tara and Penelope already had the full story, and the others knew you weren't here to share more than you already had. You came to enjoy yourself. So they didn't pry and for that you were eternally grateful.

Especially since one of the reasons why was to make an appearance at the dinner momentarily. And to say you were anxious about seeing him tonight would be an understatement.

The two of you haven't held a conversation that wasn't work related since the night at his apartment door. Every time you got the inclining to talk to him, you were painfully reminded by his words and your heart was in anguish once again. Not that the aching ever went really went away. On most days it hurt to even look at him.

The buzzing office whispers and obvious glances only made matters worse between you and the brunette doctor. It was through such secondary channels Spencer found out about your broken engagement. You had planned to tell him in person, even if things were awkward between you, but you never got the chance. The office chatter beat you to it.

Because of the distance you weren't sure how Spencer felt about the end of your engagement. A part of you thought - rather hoped - he would have changed his mind since you still firmly believed he didn't mean what he said. However, the opposite happened. He seemed more withdrawn than before.

As if that was even possible.

A small smile circled your lips as the brunette doctor entered the dimly lit garden. A smile he noticed immediately from the corner of his eye, while he said hello to everyone else. And although he wasn't looking directly at you, he couldn't help but smile too.

It was a moment you didn't even know you were sharing.

“You should just talk to him.” Penelope nudged your arm, her gaze following yours. “I don't want to make things worse between us.” You replied, your eyes still glued to Spencer's frame. 

“Sweetheart, and trust that I say this with love, but it can’t possibly get any worse than it is.” She pointed out.

You chewed down briefly on your bottom lip while she nudged you in the arm again, encouraging you to go to him.

Letting out a deep breath, you downed the rest of your drink. For a brief second Penelope thought she won as she watched you amble in the direction of the handsome doctor. The sly grin on her face quickly disappeared when instead of approaching Spencer, you made a beeline for inside the house.

If you had the courage to talk to him, what would you even say? That you were pathetically in love with him? That despite his pleas, the only man you wanted to be with was him? No, you couldn't admit that. Spencer didn't want you. The pain in your chest was proof enough, he didn't want to be with you.

“Y/N.”

Wiping the lone tear that trailed down your cheek, you did a double take at the sound of your name - the sound of your name coming from his lips.

As soon as your eyes locked with hazel gaze, the air caught in your throat.

“I was hoping we could talk.” Spencer stated calmly, taking a single step towards you.

“We have nothing to talk about, Spencer. You said I should be with Ethan and I broke up with him but that wasn’t because I thought it would change your mind.” You conveyed. A big fat lie.

“That’s not why I want to talk.” Spencer countered, his brows furrowed closely together. “I-I still care about you and I know you’ve been through a lot these last few weeks... I just, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything because you feel guilty that my engagement fell apart. And I especially don’t need you worrying about me.” You spat, surprising yourself at the harshness of your tone. It wasn't intentional and you cursed yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

Spencer swallowed. His jaw clenching for a brief second. He knew he deserved your anger. He deserved your hostility and the cold shoulder. Honestly, he was surprised it hadn't come sooner. But as he watched you fight back your tears, he knew there was only one way to fix this - apologise.

He crossed the space in your direction, stopping just mere few inches away from you. He lingered in his spot for a moment, wondering whether he should take your hand in his like he did so many times before.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything.” He apologised.

“I know you are.” You whispered back, loud enough for him to hear. “I’m sorry too, Spencer.”

The two of you looked at each other in congenial silence - the first one you shared in a very long time. For a split second. For one blissful pure moment, everything was back to the way it was. He was once again your best friend, your confidant.

The love of your life.

As he stared so deeply into your eyes, into your soul, you were reminded of the many joyful happy memories you shared. Where the good really outweighed the bad. Where it outweighed the heartbreak.

“Friends?” You suggested, the corners of your lips twirled upwards into a tiny kindhearted smile. It wasn't what you wanted but it was the best you could come up with to keep him in your life.

Spencer returned the expression. “Friends.” He replied, although unbeknown to you it was also not what the outcome he hoped for. Not while the voicemail you drunkenly left him continuously replayed in his mind on loop. The message where you admitted you didn't really believe he didn't want to be with you.

“I-I me-an you uh couldn't-t even look me-e in the eye when you sss-said it.... please-e S-Spencer-”

He wanted you to remember the message. Remember the last time you said you loved him. In his eyes, it would make fixing things between you a lot easier.

But he didn't deserve easy. Not after the way he let things unfold.

You stepped forward, breaking the distance between you. Slowly, with your eyes still fixated on his, you reached out your hand and placed it gently on his forearm. At your touch, Spencer’s heart landed in his throat. You gave his arm a squeeze and said ‘I’ll see you back in there.’, and although he saw the sentence escape your lips, he didn't quite register it. He couldn't think straight. His mind was boggled.

The amiable look in your eyes was captivating and Spencer wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you. Hold you tight.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss you. Kiss you with all his might. Kiss you like he’s never done before. Kiss you like he would for the rest of your lives together.

There was nothing holding him back anymore, nothing standing between the two of you, and yet the brunette doctor couldn't move.

When he didn't say anything, you dropped your hand and walked around him. He turned, simultaneously following you with his lost gaze. Trying to decipher what was going through your head. Did you also want to kiss him? Spencer settled for never finding out.

With one last smile, you disappeared back into the garden leaving him alone.

Frustrated with himself, Spencer ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. The small box he’d been carrying around everywhere these last few weeks in the inside pocket of his jacket weighing him down. The ring he’d never get to give you.

Fuck, he should have kissed you.

Still I'll always be there for you How I do

-

A/N: as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset, @ellesgreenaway​

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce

[theredsuzuran]

Muzan x reader ~ Lily [pt 2]

Took me forever to complete this song fanfiction, wouldn't have been possible if my friend didn't help, thanks to him. Please check out the first part to understand it better. Here.

Warning : abusive themes, mention of blood and gore.

Enjoy

She knew she was hypnotized.

The sound of a loud slap echoed throughout the room, your father who was furious about your escape have just hit you hard on your face infront of everyone, including the servants. On other hand your mother holding your father's arm tightly to prevent him from hitting you any further.

"Get away, you callous women, it is for you that she tried to run away, you should be ashamed of yourself", he shouted, shoving off your mother roughly onto the tatami floor.

"This is wrong, the Gods will punish us", she murmured under her breath making muffle sounds, your father dissatisfied by her futile attempts of protests turns his attention away from you to hit her right in the stomach with his bare fist in pure fury, making her scream in agony coughing out mucus. Your mother being a fragile women of timid personality, rarely talked to anyone let alone protest or stand up against vile play, always seen behind the shoji doors praying to the gods and chanting prayers, constantly intimidated. Witnessing your father abusing her inhumanely infront of her children, family members as well as the servants, evoked a sense of rebellion inside of you.

"Don't hit my mother, you are angry because of me hit me instead, as much as you like, but not her", you growled furiously at your father, making your mother jolt towards your direction as she shook her head violently.

"Stay away from this brat", he said apatheticly, disappointment hinted in his voice turning his head away from you once again in utter disgust. Receiving such cold treatments from your father made your heart shattered in pieces. Then, your uncle step up.

"Take her to the room and increase the guards, this shall not happen again", your father ordered the servants which was immediately followed without any hesitation or delay before you could protest you were taken away. However you wonder why did your mother reacted that way?

__

As the time passed by, you grew up to be an elegant lady mostly within the confinement of four walls, while pushing down all the jovial moments deep into the unconsciousness... your mind engulfed with the thoughts of your demise. It was getting harder and harder each day for you to keep your sanity intact. A constant state of melancholy always prevailed within your aura, even your own shadow seem deceitful.

Walking on cold thin nights

Then the night of that cursed full moon occurred. You glanced at the starry night from the now open window of your cell with your souless (e/c) eyes. Succumbing towards the void of eternal darkness. Heaven knows what grave sin you might have committed to receive such heavy punishments. As you were busy getting drowned in your own thoughts the shoji door slightly opened and the maids rushed inside your room one by one with cloths and accessories in their arm.

"It's time m'lady" the head maid bowed respectfully infront of you, then motioned the other maids to help you get ready. You could feel them pitying you, sympathizing the miserable state you're in. You simply nodded and get up to dress for your deathbed. At this point you didn't care much you just want it to get over soon, trailing off in the sea of your own distorted thoughts.

You approached your family to bid farewell before heading towards the palanquin. Everyone wishpering behind your back something that they are not allowed to speak infront of you. That didn't bother you anways but you wish you could atleast see your mother for the last time. Is it that hard for a mother to witness her daughter's departure that she needs to constantly hide indoors avoiding her like plague?

A herd of maids accompany you as your bridesmaid to mount Akakura. The norimono stopped infront of a shrine. The bitter cold outside and the solemn atmosphere made it difficult for you to enter through the main gates. All of them left at once after escorting you inside the shrine. While you sat there facing the kami observing the interior, The light of the lamp beside you flickering slowly. The shrine was enormous filled with shofisticated designs, paintings and detail descriptions of the great folklore of Japan. Gods like susanoo killing Yamamoto no orochi in order to restore peace, you were completely lost admiring the aesthetics of the shrine.

But then it broke,

Did she awoke again?

"This is not what we were expecting", you felt a strong gust of wind behind your back as if something was breathing behind your back, you could feel saliva dripping over your expensive uchikake and to your exact horror was standing your living nightmare, a disfigured seven headed monster signifying those of a dragon and a serpent hovering on top of you covering almost the entire shrine glancing directly at your fragile figure with pure malice and hunger.

"Nay, certainly not, she's not one of them, fufu", another head cooed grinning creepily. You looked at them with utter confusion, raising your head slightly to look over that hideous thing above you.

"What do you mean?", Asking almost frustrated, your voice still shaking.

"Oh", the head at the centre replied, his voice calm and steady, facing you with it's long wide neck, his eyes glowing dangerously, inches away from your face, breath stinking of something you'd probably not keen to know as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I fear mortal, but you are not blood-related to any of the seven maidens we have devoured so far", you were taken aback. Not related? You were bewildered, unable to process the new set of information displayed before you, fresh stream of tear forming in the corner of your eyes.

"No, you are lying", You snapped at them angrily.

"What a clueless human, what do we gain by that?", The head in the left hissed irritatedly.

The ground beneath you seem to slide open whereas the sky above began to crumble. For eighteen years you have been raised by people who are not even blood related to you but most importantly they were using you to save themselves, you stood their perplexed, overwhelmed with the new reality. How cruel can people become? An urge to confront your parents came in demanding for an explanation, about their selfish lies, for hiding your true identity, stealing your childhood and a chance to live a normal life. Now that perfectly made sense why your mother always prayed to the Gods for forgiveness, barely talking to you or look in your eyes and why your father is so detached towards you and not your siblings. They were never your own and you were never there's.

"Those human thought they could deceive us, we will kill them", head to the left spoke.

"No, not so soon, they might have deceived us but the girl lying below us is a marechi, no no no we cannot let her go" the main head chuckled darkly, showing its true nature all of them at once looked at you with their protruding eyes, as you shut your eyelids for the worse accepting your misfortune, a heated argument broke among the seven heads.

"You have eaten all the seven women previously, I will have this one" the right head hissed, accompanied by other heads, all of them screaming and cursing at each other. You notice the unlocked gate it must have been open since the demon arrived. It was your golden chance to escape, as they were busy fighting, you took advantage of the situation, slowly crawling your way towards the entrance of the shrine . They seem to not notice you trailing off their sight.

"Stop fighting with one another, we all are literally the same, anyone of us eating her would be enough to make us stronger and please that man", the head at the center erupted fuming with anger.

"She's gone, she's gone", one of the head shouted. Indeed you were missing the only thing left was the wataboshi you wore on top.

Then she ran faster than-

You ran through the dense forest lifting your kimono, the smell of fresh air hitting your nostrils, the feeling of nostalgia came back as you can finally taste that long lost freedom you constantly craved for since forever but unfortunately that didn't last long. As you were running blindly you could feel something gigantic chasing from behind. Being too frantic you stumble and fell onto the ground your leg getting caught in the fabric of your kimono in the process.

Start screaming, "Is there someone out there?"

Please help me

Come get me

"You thought you can ran away from us? What a foolish human", the sound of loud laughter resonated through out the woods. The demon wrapped its tale around your waist squeezing you tightly in attempt to crush your defenseless body lifting you up opening its mouth to shove you inside.

Behind her she can hear it say-

"Let go of me!" You screamed on top of your lungs, a last desperate attempt to exist. When out of the blue a large mascular tentacles flew towards your direction cutting the tail swiftly in a blink of an eye, releasing you from its bone breaking grip but instead of crashing against the ground, you were caught by a pair of strong masculine arm. You looked up in disbelief. A familiar fair male in texudo emerged, his flawless features shining underneath the moonlight coming through the branches.

"Muzan..."

"We met again (y/n), I hope am not too late", he smiled at you gazing softly. Tears came rolling down your cheeks as you cannot believe was it real or just a dream.

History always seem to find it's way of repeating itself.

His previous soft look instantly changed to that of a menacing one as he trailed his glance towards the disfigured monster.

"Crouch down and lower your heads", all the seven heads bow down infront of the demon lord, Cowering with fear at once as if they were struck by lightning.

"Pardon my lord, we didn't realize you have arrived before us or else-", the demon yelped immediately like a lost puppy.

"Who gave you the permission to speak?" Muzan replied indignantly, his eyes glowing threateningly at the petrified creature. You knew he was a demon but you were unaware that he held such authority making a powerful demon like Akai that supposedly haunts the mountain for centuries to lower his head in terror on his command. What was unknown to you that he infact was the progenitor of these morbid creatures.

How ironic being saved by none other but a demon.. being first of his kind.

"Have mercy, my lord" the demon begged, while one of his head thought why's he saving that human girl?

"Why am I saving that human girl? Go ahead, continue", muzan narrowed his eyes making the demon quivered with shock. He can read my mind?

"What makes you answer my authority?" The demon lord demanded furiously, veins popping out from his head.

"Beings like you should not be allowed to exist" with that said, his one arm stretched, injecting a sharp blade into the creature allowing his blood to overflow, creating chaos in the demonic cells of that creature eventually turing it into a pile of molten flesh.

It's over, the nightmares. Fresh tears rolled down your face, mixed with all sorts of emotions, the tables have turned, the heavens seems to have listen to your prayers. A pair of large hands cupped your face breaking you from the chain of thoughts

Follow everywhere I go

"Why are you still crying, dear?" Muzan replied with his smooth, monotonous voice, removing his hand as he placed you gently on the surface. His mood changed in a matter of seconds, you wonder how much more he was capable of doing beside that but brushing aside those feelings of negativity you moved closer.

"Took you long enough" engulfing him in a tight hug, startling him in the process. The idea of being intimate with a lowly creature was good enough to make him puke in disgust. How can a mortal like you have the audacity to touch the all mighty kibutsuji Muzan? He believed himself to be above everything even viewing his own subordinates as puppets of his play. His twisted sense of morality speaks that affection holds a person from attaining superiority and is a sign of weakness, the more ruthless and cold hearted the more close you are to perfection. He shows no value to people who possess such emotions which he is foreign to. Your vulnerability makes him want to ripped you to shreds, torment you and break your mind, yet he finds himself at ease. It was hard for him to admit that his pride was hurted against someone so delicate and somehow he felt those feelings of warmth to be tolerable with you, even to the extent of craving it.

After a while, a sudden realization hit your senses as you parted from the tight embrace, your (s/c) countenance painted with dark shades of red, averting your gaze from the demon. The moon shone brightly above you exhibiting your breathtaking beauty just like a piece of art. The way your shiny (h/c) locks fell over your smooth skin, the way your pulm lips parted to speak and the way your eyes sparked with adoration, was enough to drive him insane. From the very moment he laid his eyes upon you, he knew a masterpiece like you belonged only to the epitome of perfection. He will do anything to keep you to himself.

Top over the mountains or valley low.

"(Y/n), you have a very rare blood, a marechi" said muzan, as you recall the conversation you had with the demon in the shrine saying something similar on this note.

Give you everything you been dreaming of

"What's with that muzan?" You asked curiously, to which muzan's tone changed into that of a viscous one.

"Its a great meal for demons", silence broke out as you were too shock to say anything. Muzan knew he can take advantage of that situation and mould you the way he desires.

"(Y/n) are you scared of me?"

"No", you replied almost immediately with no hesitation.

"Do you trust me?" He questioned again looking at you directly with his glowing ruby orbs. Beginning his sick games of manipulation.

"Yes I do, with all my life, you are the only one who saved my life not once but twice, you cared so much for me when no one did" you paused.

"Beside my mother"

Just let me in, ooh

"Your family abandoned you, when you needed them the most" he replied creating doubts about inside of you, making you back off a little towards a tree.

"My mother was helpless" you answered.

"They used you for their own benefit", pinning you against the tree, he whispered venom into your ears. The proximity between you two, send shivers down your spine. Seeing you helpless excited him, making him determined to claim you even more.

Everything you want in gold, I'll be the magic story you have been told.

"How do you k-know?" You trembled, gasping your mouth and before you could lift your hands to cover your face muzan held your hands into his bigger ones looking directly in your eyes.

"Tell me (y/n) am I wrong?", you knew he wasn't although it didn't make sense.

"No.." is all you replied, satisfied with your answers muzan proceeded into the next step.

And you will safe under my control.

"I want to keep you safe, (y/n)", he moved closer to your face.

"You and I shall rule the world"

"I don't know muzan"

"No one can harm you ever again"

"But-"

"Don't you want to be free?"

Free? That's what you have been wanting for so long, freedom. He made you believe that you can be a boundless bird stretching its wings in the infinite magnitude. All of your doubts stopped growing from then and there, muzan knew he has struck the right cord, creating a ray of false hope about your vision of a perfect free world, thereby controlling your perception just like a predator luring his victims with lies. Seems as if you were destined to be deceived.

"Yes" you replied hypnotized by his convincing.

"Then become a demon"

Just let me in, ohh

Muzan moved his hand across your face caressing it gently, his face inches apart from yours, as his lips crashed against yours. For someone who recoiled from physical touch, to be felt loved by something that isn't supposed to be God's creation. A warm feeling crept inside of your chest as it was pressed against his. Feeling your joint heartbeats.

I never bothered to feel my chest for a heart beat, now I do. As I looked down to see my hand moving towards my face, the slimy red droplet broke away, disconnecting our lips. Demon? This man who gave me this new life? His eyes, so calm and fiery, How can I feel such duality? I lifted my other hand, without knowing it went to his chest, On his chiseled chest, there. You thought.

"A demon?" You replied with your now quivering lips turning your face away with embarrassment, realizing your lips connected with burning passion. Your eyes teared up you know not why, to be embraced by one who was supposed to be cold, to be embraced by someone who stood against armies through out time, you wanted to be with him.

"you will be", said muzan, as you felt your consciousness fading away, you know now why... Why all of them follow him, despite the abuse..Despite the sacrifices... you know now why your body moved craving for his touch although you could feel your throat burning yet it didn't matter, the warm embrace is all that you wanted.

That night you abandoned your humanity.