#he never stopped my mother from blaming me for everything

[luveline]

Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 

“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 

“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 

“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”

You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 

“But how does she know?”

“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 

“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 

You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 

“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 

You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 

“It’s a secret.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 

Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 

“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 

You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 

Jack watches you. 

“Dad got really mad.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 

Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 

“Want a hug?” you whisper. 

Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 

This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  

“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 

You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 

“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 

“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”

“What?” 

“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 

“Mom says everything is hard now.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“Sorry, Jack.” 

Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.

“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 

“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.

“I better go.”

“Honey, what’s really going on?”

“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”

You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 

—

You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 

“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 

It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 

Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 

Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 

“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 

He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 

Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. 

You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 

“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 

You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 

“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 

You stare. 

Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 

“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 

“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 

What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 

You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 

“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 

You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 

“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 

“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 

“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 

“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”

[running-in-the-dark]

shit I think I've just admitted to myself for the first time that I kind of hate my dad

[mrabubu]

Leo just came back from his "trip" across the universe, all beaten up and tired, only to find out that Splinter already passed away.

But, honestly, this comic spoke to me a little more personally. I'm going to leave some of my thoughts under the cut.

Uh, I guess trigger warning on mentions of death? And some personal experience.

So, I basically went through the same as Leo, and less than a year ago found out that my father passed away. My situation is more complicated, but I still know the feelings your going through in this situation, when the realization strikes you, when you feel grief, regret, when you blame yourself for not being with your parent, when you're denied from being able to say goodbye and have to live with this feeling. And, in my case, I even blamed my father at some point.

I won't go into much details, just will say that I haven't been in touch with my father in years. He wasn't a bad person, he wasn't a drunk, he never did anything bad to anyone, he was... Complicated. And this all lead to one episode after which he stopped communicating with me.

In short, his pride was more important to him than me (at least, this is how it felt), he wanted to teach me a lesson. And years after, after he probably realized the mistake he made, he wasn't able to make himself to finally talk to me again because it was too late.

And I was... Angry? Hurt? Because I felt like I was left to deal with my mother and other things alone. I felt like I didn't matter to him, despite the good moments. I still live with these feelings and thoughts of guilt, and will live with them till the end of my life, knowing he passed away with no one around him.

I'm not angry at him, I mean, it's pointless? It won't change anything. Time's already lost. I only feel this grief over us both not being able to make the first move and try to fix everything between us.

Despite how things turned out I still remember those good episodes with him when I was a kid, when he would come from work late and despite my mother's complaining, we would spend at least an hour together watching a TV in my room.

Why am I writing all this? Not sure, maybe to leave a little message about not loosing the moment? Because human life is short, and you have only one chance.

You don't have Mystic Mikey to send you back in time and fix everything.

And I just think about how Rise makes me relate to a character more and more...

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby

- gojo satoru x reader

a domestic life with your husband and baby

genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo

note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫

and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here

general masterlist

Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.

"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.

And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.

He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.

"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.

"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.

"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.

Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.

"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.

Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"

Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.

"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."

"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."

"...A lot of bad things."

"Heh, is that so?"

The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.

"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."

Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."

He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.

"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."

"Hmph."

"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"

The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.

Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.

This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?

Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”

He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.

“He is so… defenseless.”

“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”

Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.

“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.

Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.

“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

End Notes: I forgot to mention, reader's work clothes are the same as Arlecchino from Genshin Impact wears.

Taglist:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

[divinesolas]

Hi, could you do an Aemond one shot where he and Reader (Rhaenyra's bastard daughter) are husband and wife and she and Aemond are married, based on the first episode of season 2 where instead of killing Aegon's son, kill the reader's son and aemond

a.n: hi hi ty for the request 🫶 i had a little too much fun writing this, this probably isnt what you wanted this is not a happy fic but i still hope you enjoy regardless 🫶🫶 slightly inspired by the events of ep two

Despite the halls of the keep being pure chaos everyone swiftly moved out of the way for the one eyed prince who rushed through the halls seeking out the one who he knew needed him.

They had been in his room. They wanted him. But they must have left his room when they knew he was not there and stumbled their way into the nursery which was attached to his room where his son had been. His son. his only child. and he was furious.

The door to the council room slams open and otto swiftly turns to look and stand before him, “where have you been-“ otto is shoved out of his way as he goes to kneel next to his sobbing wife on the floor who was clutching a blanket on the floor.

You look at him with red eyes and choke out his name, he grabs your face in his hands and looks upon you for a moment before you throw yourself into his arms. Shoving your head in his neck to breathe in his scent, to feel his pulse, make sure he’s real.

“they killed our son.” your words come out choked in between your sobs and he strokes up and down your back, “i tried to offer them anything, gold, myself, but they only wanted him aemond only him.” he shushes you and pressed a kiss against your temple, speaking into your ear. “Im sorry my love im sorry.”

He will return the pain they have brought to not only himself but worst of all to his wife and he will pay it tenfold. A lone tear streaks down his face as you say nothing more merely continue to sob into him while the other faces in the room can only merely watch with sorrow.

He picks you up, making sure to keep the blanket firmly in your grasp as he turns to leave the room ignoring the voices calling after him. They must want to discuss what they plan to do now but he wants no part in it, only wanting to comfort his wife.

“they were saying they want to blame my mother.” You had calmed down at some point, still delirious with grief but you had stopped crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as aemond kept you firmly next to him. “she would never do a thing like this. my mother loves me, why would she send someone out for my son.”

Aemond is quiet and his hand on your back falters for a moment, “she wishes to punish me.” you say nothing but he notices how you shift ever so slightly.

With the way you two were right now nobody could tell the two of you have not spoken in those fourteen days since his return when he broke the news to the court. When he broke the news to you. Your own brother murdered in cold blood.

You could never forgive him despite his attempts to talk to you after, you swiftly dismissed him and his words would fall on deaf ears. Your baby brother was everything to you, you remember growing up side by aide and he was teary eyed the day you permanently moved to the keep.

despite your hatred for him and your hatred for your mothers usurpation you cannot go home. The people here watch you like a hawk you cannot even send a letter out to her but alicent is free to beg and plead to her like a pathetic dog. you hate them. Yet you allow him to comfort you because you know you will get no comfort from anyone else here.

“they wish to flaunt me around like a prized lamb. ‘gain sympathy from the houses.’ he says.” You ignore his words and continue to speak. “I will not allow it.” you shrug mindlessly and sit up, he stays laying down. His eye patch off and hair down from its usually prime and perfect state, he had thrown his shirt off at some point too.

You can see it, the hurt that laces his eye and his face, his hand finds yours and you want to rip it away but you cant, the warmth on your skin bringing you a small sense of comfort.

“i had thought we would work. That you would finally move on and forgive grievances of the past. But i hate you just as you hate me aemond,” “i do not hate you. i love you.” you shake your head as he says it, sitting up and gripping your arms tightly, trying to hold your gaze as he says it again.

“i will never forgive you. I will hate you for as long as a breathe.”

“i did not mean to i lost my temper that day.”

“you feeling sorry means nothing to me you know that. how would you feel if the men who murdered our son came in here and said they were sorry., that they didn’t mean to.”

He says your name and his grip tightens on your arms but you continue to merely stare off mindlessly.

“i will repent for the rest of my life. our son will be brought justice.”

he will kill every man in the keep if he has to, slay every man in all of westeros if they cannot figure out who had done it. For you. for his son.

“i love you.” the words come out strained as he begs and pleads to anyone who is willing to listen to him for you to say something else anything to him.

you do. you finally look at him. a look devoid of any love you had once had for him. and it kills him.

“you’re pathetic.”

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour (3)

When your mother is sent screenshots of your tweets, you lie & claim that it was an inside joke between you & your boyfriend. @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @babycandy111

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.730

Warning: dirty talk, simp jungkook once again, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, 69, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, degradation kink, submissive reader, dom jungkook, slight jealous and possessive jungkook, but like we love this jungkook,

“Never knew you lived alone.” you say as your eyes scan around the clean, spacious apartment. 

“I’ve invited you over plenty of times.” Jungkook closes the door behind him, takes off his shoes and makes his way towards his kitchen. “You always shot me down.”

You follow him into the kitchen with a roll of your eyes, sitting on the island to watch him take out the fresh food he just bought today for dinner. “Who knows what you’d do to me if I stayed here.”

“Exactly what you beg me to do when we’re at your house.” Jungkook sends you a smile before turning away from you.

Jungkook had a point, you’re sad to say.

Jungkook begins to cook, wrapping a black apron around his torso tightly as he does so. You laugh at how persistent he is, your stomach churning with unknown feelings - you refuse to believe it’s because you like him more than a fuck buddy.

The phone call you got from your mother was an embarrassing one. She called you non-stop, and when you finally answered, you were left completely worried about what in the world she could be in such a rush to speak about.

Your tweets were not what was on your mind when you answered. She had told you that she was sent a screenshot - you blame your brother and his treacherous ways; who else would it be? “Are you prostituting yourself?” your mother’s disappointed voice asks over the phone and a side of you wants to laugh. Maybe in a way this could be prostitution - but you and Jungkook had a form of relationship. You were close friends, you’d say, often hanging out together even outside of sex - so you didn’t consider it prostitution. Just maybe a favor for a favor.

“No, of course not!” was your response, completely flushed with hot embarrassment. “Who told you about twitter? How did you find it…?” 

What made your mother stop ranting was you exclaiming that Jungkook - or the “horny boy who comments on your posts” as she puts it - was your boyfriend and everything you were tweeting was just an inside joke between the two of you - a joke she obviously didn’t get.

When you made an obvious lie to your mother, she was skeptical. You never mentioned any boyfriends before and it was news to her. She wanted to meet Jungkook, already telling your father about the embarrassing tweets and what “the new generation are doing on their social media platforms” that he didn’t care about. 

So, this is how you and Jungkook found yourself in his apartment - a rather spacious, clean and overall nice apartment - with him cooking dinner for you, himself and your parents. Once viewing your tweet, he had called you instantly, declaring that he was going to be the best fake boyfriend your mother ever met.

“Smells good.” you murmur after about 30 minutes, looking up from your phone.

Jungkook knits his brows and chuckles. “Does it?” he asks. “I had to bring out the fine china for my in-laws.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re pushing it.” you quip.

Jungkook lowers the fire and turns towards you. His apron is slightly messy, but it only meant that he was a good chef. He places his hands onto the table, your eyes catching the way his veins pulse. 

“I’m serious.” Jungkook says. “There’s no going back from this now. We mind as well start thinking about marriage.”

You raise a brow and tilt your head. 

“I mean,” Jungkook taps his fingers onto the island table. “after I woo your mother and show her how amazing I am, there’ll be no other man who’s going to have that love in her heart.”

You begin to laugh at Jungkook’s words - even if he did have a point. Jungkook would be the type of person your mother would want for you to date - which made the fake dating aspect more comical for you. 

“You’re laughing now,” Jungkook smirks, leaning forward to capture your lips in a quick, off guard, peck. His soft lips shut you up and leave you wanting more. “but I’ll be having the last laugh when she invites me to all the holiday dinners.”

You lick your lips, attempting to not let Jungkook see you flustered. “Is that so?” you decide to humor the man. “You’ll put yourself through humiliation even when I do find a boyfriend?”

Jungkook’s eyes are right on yours, starting with a serious expression. Slowly, his smirk turns into a thin line and then you begin to feel as though you crossed a line with him - maybe even hurt his feelings in a way.

Jungkook pokes his tongue through his cheek, but then he tilts his head once more and gives you that toothy grin. “Sure. You’ll keep seeing me at these holiday dinners or get-togethers because your mother will love me so much, I'll basically be part of the family.” 

Jungkook turns away, turning off the stove. His eyes darted to the clock hanging high on the wall, there was another 30 minutes until your parents would arrive. 

“You’ll still sit on my face even if you did bring a boyfriend around. And I’ll make you cum each time.”

Jungkook’s words catch you by surprise, but it leaves you hot nonetheless. His eyes are staring right through you once more - he knows what he’s doing and you hate it - hate that he knows what he could do to you with just his words.

“That sounds absurd that you think I would keep you around even if I did have a boyfriend.” you  quip, challenging him. 

“But you will.” Jungkook retorts all too quickly. “You’ll do nothing but have that” Jungkook raises a hand and does air quotations. “boyfriend running away.”

You’re taken aback, but before you can respond, Jungkook does.” When you realize that only I have the patience to handle that spoiled princess bitchy attitude you portray, it’ll make things easier for the both of us.” he shrugs. “Until then, I’ll let you live out this fantasy of a fake boyfriend coming around.”

Jungkook waits for you to respond to him with petty remarks. He doesn’t tell you, but he enjoys the petty debates you and he share - maybe because each time it ends with you sitting on his face. 

You don’t speak, and Jungkook knows yet again, he has you beat. 

“You want to sit on my face?” Jungkook questions with a raised brow after a few moments of a silent staring battle.

You nod, and now the both of you are scurrying to his bedroom - his leading the way. Jungkook doesn’t botter shutting the door, there was limited time he had. He’s already pulling at your pants when he enters the room.

Jungkook lays down upon his bed just as your pants fall. “Just push them aside.” he says in a hurry. “Cute.” he murmurs at the pastel lavender underwear you wore - they were velvet and soft. “Are these new?”

You position yourself above Jungkook’s lips and nod your head. “You should know. It was your credit card that was swiped.” 

Jungkook snorts but nods. “I don’t check where you go when I give you my card.” he begins to kiss your inner thighs.

“This is why Jimin hates me.” you giggle, biting your lip. “Spending all your money on me while he has to fight for hulu again.”

Jungkook places a kiss on your clit. “I’m not fucking Jimin.” is all he says before diving into your clit. His tongue begins to lick between your folds and now your back is arching.

Jungkook licks your clit like a man starved, determined to make you cum. His hands rub your thighs encouragingly like he usually does, wanting you to get enough pleasure as you could. 

You begin to rock your hips against his tongue, biting your lips. You could never say no to Jungkook offering to pleasure you - he does it so often now that it becomes a part of your weekly routine.

“You’re holding back.” Jungkook muffled words hit your ears. His finger slides between your panties, pushing them aside so he has more access to lick upon your clit. Just as you open your eyes to look at Jungkook, he lifts you up slightly to spit onto your clit, just to lap it up entirely, along with the arousal you provided him. 

“S-Stop doing that.” you murmur, but even you can’t help but moan. Jungkook understands your body right now, only knowing his perverted actions would cause you to buckle your hips against his tongue even harder.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, just lies and watches as your face contorts with pleasure. His hand roams your bare thighs until he reaches your ass. He rubs it gently, a slight encouragement for you to get your high off. 

With each thrust of your clit upon his tongue, Jungkook feels himself grow hard - but this wasn’t about him. He enjoyed pleasuring you, truly - even when you did nothing for him in return. Watching you knowing that he had you this way was worth it. 

Jungkook willingly slurps and groans onto your clit, his hands now squeezing your ass. “If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.” you say, and Jungkook does it even harder, a look in his eyes that tells you “that’s the point”.

‘F-Fuck.” you lift yourself from Jungkook’s tongue against his wishes.

“You didn’t cum yet.” Jungkook pushes you back down against his tongue, preparing himself when you speak.

“I know you’re hard.” you turn yourself around so you’re facing his erect cock. His sweats appear tight when you know they aren’t, but that’s due to his hardened cock.”Wanna cum in my mouth?”

Jungkook groans. He doesn’t answer, just dives back onto your clit. He has a firm grasp against you, ensuring you don’t move away from him this time. 

You don’t waste any more time, hands roughly tugging out Jungkook’s cock. It springs out and you wrap your mouth against the tip, sucking it just know you know Jungkook likes it.  Your nails dig into his thighs as your head bobs up and down, sucking him in deeper each time.

Jungkook’s fully moaning now into your clit, hips thrusting to meet your warm mouth. He doesn’t understand fully how you do this to him each time - there was never a dull moment with you. Sex each time only became better and better; he never wanted it to end.

“I-I don’t think I can let you cum in my mouth.” you say, popping Jungkook’s cock from your swollen lips. Your tongue licks up the shaft of it before you kiss the tip. “Please, just fuck me.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. When Jungkook wanted to, he could easily throw you around like a ragdoll. You’re grateful that the man with such stamina and strength never fully displays it unless you wanted him to.

“We only have about five minutes.” Jungkook centers himself at your entrance, enthralled at how amazing your ass appeared arched for him - no matter how many times you blessed him with such a view. 

“Maybe then, fuck…” Jungkook begins to enter you, your pussy immediately clenching around him. “...you have five minutes to fuck me like you mean it then.”

Fuck you Jungkook does. His thrusts are completely brutal, both hands firmly against you. His left is on your hips while his right is pressing your back against his mattress. The sounds of skin slapping echoes off of his walls, the neighbors would surely know about this one.

“Your pussy’s so wet for me, baby.” Jungkook grunts, eyes bouncing between the arch of your back to the way you were creaming his cock. “And to think you thought about having a boyfriend that wasn’t me.”

You knew Jungkook wasn’t going to let that down, but you were far too into his dick to care about what he was saying to fuel his ego - Jungkook did this constantly. “No one could fuck you as good as me” he’d say. “Your pussy was made for my cock.” was another. Your favorite was his praises towards you. “You look so beautiful taking me.” or “You ride it so good, baby.”

Jungkook’s right hand reaches for your neck, hoisting you up. His cock goes even deeper and now you’re unable to suppress your whimpers. “You know no one else can deal with you like I can.”

Jungkook’s lips press open mouth kisses against the nape of your neck. 

“I know.” you whimper, submitting to Jungkook like he wants. 

It’s amazing to think how different the two of you were while intimate. Jungkook appeared like the submissive type to others, always doting on you (even if there wasn’t an actual label on the “relationship") while you appeared dominant and demanding. But when Jungkook was in the mood (with your consent, of course) it was like a switch turned in his brain, and he wanted (needed) you to know that you were his.

“Exactly.” Jungkook chuckles. He’s hitting your spot with each thrust, not letting go of your neck. “I think you just enjoy being a bitch.”

You clench around him at the degrading word, Jungkook notices. 

“You enjoy teasing me, saying how you’d give my pussy away to someone else.”

“I-I’m about to cum!” you wail, eyes clenched shut. It was Jungkook’s fault - fuck him and his good dick and his dirty words. Maybe you were into a little bit of degrading and maybe even a little masochism - you were already submissive to Jungkook. You had to fight back agreeing with the man and telling him that it was his pussy; you would never hear the end of it if you did.

“I bet.” Jungkook retorts smugly. “You love it when I treat you like a whore off the street, huh?” Jungkook shakes his head, squeezing your neck a little harder. “I’ll fuck you however you’d like, Y/N, because deep inside, you know you’re my girl. You aren’t going anywhere.”

You cum on the spot, his words truly getting to you now. Jungkook allows you to fall into his pillows as he continues to pound inside of you. His thrusts are sloppy, and he knows even he has little time left until he cums. 

Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, pondering that maybe he has gone a little too hard on you - but then you turn your head slightly to face him and you give him those eyes. The same eyes he can never say no to.

Jungkook cums deep inside of you, twitching. He’s hissing, his eyes fluttering at the sensational feeling. There was nothing better than getting to cum inside of you - it felt more intimate than pulling out (even if he did enjoy coating you with his cum).

Jungkook takes a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. It was times like this he wished he could capture the moment - you completely fucked out with his cum dripping out of you. It’s the sick satisfaction he often thinks of when he’s alone - that you allowed him to do this to you when you are known as the closed off girl with the resting (beautiful) bitch face.

Jungkook places your panties back to cover you, lightly tapping it. “I’ll be saving that for later.” he sighs in satisfaction. “You okay? I wasn't too rough, right?”

You sigh deeply. It takes you a moment to turn but when you do, you nod. 

Jungkook gives you a wide smile. “Okay. Get up. They’ll be here soon.” Jungkook tells you. “We can’t have them knowing I fucked the shit out of you.”

Your eyes widened but you couldn’t help but laugh. You hide your face with your hands. “I’m so sleepy, though.”

Jungkook grasps your hands, placing a kiss on both of them. “We have the whole weekend to sleep in.” he says, and it’s then you remembered you agreed to spending the weekend with Jungkook, him insisting that after dinner he can just drive you back to your home and pack a bag. “And I have the whole weekend to show you just how much you are my girl.”

Jungkook sends a wink your way and you can’t help but roll your eyes, even if the pits of your stomach are churning and your body feels hot.

Series Masterlist

[ch3rry-wink]

Become Human (AU)

Pairing: android!Miguel x f!reader

Summary: Your android assistant is mad because you have a date

CW: +18, smut, kinda yandere Miguel.

Author's note: inspired by Detroit Become Human

The first time you saw Miguel was in your first year of university, a gift from your father so you wouldn't feel alone.

"I am Miguel, and I will be your assistant" sounded robotic but human enough.

"Thanks, Dad." Your parents always found a way to replace themselves and others with technology, so it wasn't surprising that your nanny was a Lyla.

Having Miguel was the best thing that could happen to you; during university, he took care of household tasks, allowing you to focus on classes. Over time, he became your manager, friend, chef, bodyguard, even your muse. However, your life revolving around him made you a complete hermit, something your mother constantly complained about.

"You're just like your father, always locked in your world"

"I know, no need to remind me always."

"You should stop fucking your robot and start dating real guys" you blushed, even though it was very normal you had never wanted to cross the line with Miguel, even though he had made the suggestion.

"Mom, I don't want to talk about that."

"I wouldn't blame you; he's a muscular six feet man," she always found a way to make you uncomfortable.

It wasn't in your plans for your mother to scold you for not having dates, and your android to complain about having them. Yet, there you were, dressed up, meeting someone from an app, and listening to the android's complaints.

"What's so special about him?" Maybe his jealousy didn't exist; you had read about viruses and updates simulating feelings in androids.

"Miguel, you're just my robot assistant." His eyes welled up as if about to cry.

"You know I care about you."

"Enough! Stop talking nonsense." You were in denial, you knew he was right, especially when his touches became softer and lingered, as if adoring you.

"I've thought about us." You covered your ears like a tantrum-throwing child.

"I want you to shut down," you yelled; he left the room, and you stayed fixing your makeup.

You headed to the door, tried to open it, and it was stuck; pulling the handle a couple more times, you remembered Miguel wasn't just a physical body but an AI controlling everything from the oven to the security system. Things you needed to know but ignored because Miguel controlled them.

You knew you wouldn't make it to your date; Miguel had sabotaged it, not that you were excited to go.

Walking to the kitchen, you saw Miguel sitting at the bar with a glass of wine he offered. First, the security system, and now this—something was wrong, and fear started creeping in.

"I ordered you to shut down; why aren't you off?"

"I didn't want to do it."

"I want you to shut down." You took out your phone. "If you don't, I'll call the technician and have you destroyed," sounding like your mother, arguing with some manager.

"It doesn't matter. You said I'm your robot assistant, so I'm replaceable." You knew it wasn't true; you and he had been through a lot, and the affection you had for him was sometimes your inspiration to paint.

"Shut down." You saw him advance towards you, cornering you between the bar and him. "Back off." He ignored your command, held you by the waist, and started kissing you.

"I just want you to love me." His hands went to the zipper of your dress, lowering it, sending shivers down your spine as his lips kissed your neck.

"We shouldn't." Your words and actions didn't align; your body was getting closer to him.

"Relax, just this once." You nodded, and he lowered the dress straps; it fell to the floor, and instinctively, you covered your nudity. He laughed, took one of your hands, and guided you to your room.

You sat on the edge of your bed as nervous as your first time, he knelt on the floor, caressed your legs and began to give short kisses on the inside of your thighs, he brought his hand closer and with his thumb began to rub your intimacy over your underwear, little moans of pleasure escaped from your mouth.

"Tell me you need me" Miguel wanted to hear you beg for him; even though he knew it was he who was begging for you.

"I need you" you said that through the moans you couldn't control.

Miguel stopped rubbing with his finger to replace it with his face, you lost track of space and time, you could only think of the sensation he was causing; how his hands caressed your skin while he slid your underwear down to your ankles and his mouth did not leave your sweet spot.

The room was a concert of your ragged breathing, your pathetic whimpering and the splashing of your fluids, Miguel felt accomplished after so long waiting for you now he had you bent over, completely exposed and vulnerable for him alone.

"Miguel stop" Miguel watched your cramped body barely coming down from the high he had put you on.

You lay on the bed looking up at the ceiling, Miguel lay down next to you, he caressed your cheek and you turned to look at him.

"I love you, Miguel" wiped a tear that escaped from your eye. You said you loved him but there you were trying to hold back the tears — What was stopping you from loving him the way he loved you?

You stood up and straddled him, Miguel didn't expect you to take the initiative, but there you were on him caressing his chest and abdomen until you reached the waistband of his usual grey pants which you pulled down to the middle of his thighs exposing his cock which you stroked a couple of times and directed to your entrance.

Miguel didn't expect you to be so eager to feel him, but there you were making the effort to feel all his length inside you, you started to bounce on him and a grimace of pure pleasure started to appear on your face.

Your cheeks were flushed, you were starting to feel tired from the effort; but you didn't care, the only thing you wanted to do was to continue on top of him.

"I love you" Miguel said between moans, you stopped to give him a slow and sweet kiss, he didn't hold back his joy and in a few movements you were under him, he came back inside you and started with his rhythmic thrusts, your nails dug into his back and your eyes met his eyes as bright as stars.

No matter how many times you screamed, cried or writhed in pleasure he was still over stimulating, enjoying you, the fluffiness of your insides and in how your lips kept worshipping his name after begging you so much to love him.

"You are beautiful" the intimacy of the moment brought out the artist who saw beauty in everything, in how his hair moved and his muscles tensed with every movement. Miguel was the epitome of science, technology and art, something so perfect it couldn't be real.

[robin374]

alastor x daughter reader angst If you do, you will be very happy. The reader does not know that he is his father and when he finds out, Alastora will be very angry. PLSSSS

ehem thanks <3

𝔊𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔪𝔢

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 : Alastor x Reader, platonic

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: Hola. I got too carried away sorry if it's too long. BRUH I JUST FINISHED AND I PASSED THE WORD LIMIT, let me just do a part 2 LMAO

Back when you were alive, you were an orphan. You couldn't remeber who your parents were, but you were angry. You were angry at everything and everyone, if they didn't love you when you were born why didn't they kill you? Was it necessary to abandon you? You didn't want to meet them and start over again as a happy family like your friends at the orphanage dreamed. You wanted to meet them so you could make sure you never talked to them again. Then, when you died, you wandered around Hell. You didn't exactly have a house, you just strolled around the city, maybe even killing someone to let your rage out. For someone who had deer resemblace you were quite agressive, to be honest.

You had died young, in your 17th birth to be exact. You bumped into a group of drunk men, they were drunk enough to pick a fight against whoever crossed paths with them, and you happened to be there. You just didn't survive. You may had born crying knowing nothing about life, but you died with that youth rage and you blamed it on your unknown parents.

One day, you were sitting on the floor reading a book you stole time ago when someone stopped in front of you. You didn't lift your head, you just flicked your gaze to the black dressing shoes and red pants that the person was wearing. "What do you want." You didn't ask, you demanded. "I...I have been informed that you were alone and homeless. So, I've decided to give you a room at my hotel, The Hazbin Hotel!" It was a girl's voice, the Princess of Hell's voice. You recognized her from seeing her singing around the streets not long ago. "Why would I want to go there?" You asked closing the book and putting it inside your bag. "It's just a hotel with a porn star and a pathetic victorian snake. I would prefer to sleep next to a rat with rabies than that, so, thank you but no, thank you." You started to walk away from her, you didn't even want to see her face. You knew you just had been mean to Lucifer's daughter, but she didn't even seem like it. You scratched a spot near your antlers, since you became a demon you didn't manage to get used to them. Then, a shadow appeared out of nowhere and it transformed into a tall man, who smiled at you.

"Now, that's not the best way to talk to someone, sweetheart." He said, his voice was accompanied with a stereophonic effect, it sounded like the radio you used to have in your room when you were alive. "Do I know you?" You said as you straightened your back to look more challenging. He just laughed, which clearly offended you a bit. "You should."

How did he manage to smile for so long? You couldn't remeber the last time your lips drew a genuine smile on your face. You were always with a frown on your face, angry, furious. "You seem to be quite the rebel, aren't you?" He said and before he ruffled your hair you flinched away. "Don't touch me." You hissed. "Ooh the fawn is angry," he laughed causing you to frown even more. "Where is your mother? Did a hunter shoot her?" He smiled even more -if that was even possible- you clenched your teeth and your ears curved downwards, you were trying so hard to not to hit him right then and there, who did he think he was? "Okay, let's calm down. How about you come to my hotel, stay one night and then you decide if you want to stay or not?" The princess smiled, her smile was kinder. You scoffed, "if that means that you won't bother me anymore, alright." They started walking down the street with you, it was the first time you walked with someone by your side. You expected it to be a silent walk but you were wrong, the blonde girl talked you about how she planned to redeem a lot of demons when she got the proof that they were able to do it.

While you were walking up the hill that led to the hotel, your gaze fell on the radio tower coming out of one side. You didn't pay attention to the strange Zeppelin or the huge letters that spelled 'Hazbin Hotel' you just looked at the radio tower. You heard a radio static near you, you didn't pay attention to it though, thinking that it was the coming for the tower. Once you were inside, you were greeted with more people that you thought. Of course, the porn star Angel Dust was there and wasted no time in flirting with you not even knowing you gender. "Oh you're the quiet type? Let me see what that mouth does, pretty please." He pouted and you raised your brow. If that was what he wanted, he would get it. "Get the fuck away from me." You said, shoving him away. Then, you heard a deep chuckle and you turned to your side, you noticed a black cat with wings laughing at the white spider. He had a bottle in his hand. Charlie, made you greet everyone there, but her brows frowned in confused way the moment she didn't find someone called Nifty.

You were about to walk towards the bar when you hit something with your foot. You heard a high pitched voice laughing and telling you to hit her again. You stepped back from the small woman with a scared face and your ears curved downwards. "Hi! I'm Nifty, I clean." She quickly climbed up your body and stopped at your face, her big eye looking intensely at you, you swore she could read your mind. "You are very young to be dead, what happened to you? Oh! What's your name?" She shook you, she was surprinsingly strong considering her small body. "Tell me everything." She growled. "My name's Y/N." You said, and ignored again the radio static, had it been sounding this whole time?

After greeting everyone, you told Charlie that you wanted to rest and she showed you your room. You closed the door and let your body fall in the bed. Even though you didn't want to admit it, you had the feeling that this couldn't be as bad as you thought. It had an old-fashioned aura that made you feel at home, somehow. You hadn't felt like this for a long time, you were always running away from demons that wanted to kill you, harass you, make a deal with you... You were at peace here.

PART 2 HERE

I AM SO SORRY

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Bakugo Katsuki

I finished this yesterday but forced myself to wait to post it due to my one part a day pattern I've had going on.

Anyways~ as I said in Shoto's part, I did make this one a bit angstier, but I hope I didn't stray too far away from the original prompt :'). It's kinda bittersweet lol but I kinda like it.

Angst to fluff/Comfort | Kinda bittersweet~ | 993 words | female reader

Warnings!: arguing, yelling, being scared of your partner, parents arguing (the kids were not present), kids being left at school (not for very long), caps, excuses, self hatred, and insulting themselves (Bakugo). Please let me know if I miss any <33

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

You both had been fighting for at least half an hour, screaming at one another for this and that. It started with Bakugo 'forgetting' to pick up your sons from school, and has now escalated into you screaming at him for not 'caring about this family' and his yelling about how hard he works for your family.

No one was totally to blame, both parties had some points that were right, and some that were wrong. But it should have never reached that point.

~~~

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU BEGGED FOR KIDS THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP OUT MUCH! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME!"

"I UNDERSTAND THAT- BUT YOU'VE HAD THREE DAYS OFF! YOU'RE FULLY RESTED- AND SHOULD'VE PICKED UP THE KIDS NO PROBLEM WHILE I WAS HELPING OUT YOUR MOM!"

"WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO! I FORGOT ABOUT IT, OKAY! AND YOU DIDN'T CALL TO REMIND ME EITHER!"

"I EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH BRAINS TO REMEMBER, BUT I GUESS THAT WAS IDIOTIC OF ME!"

"I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH BESIDES THIS BULL CRAP THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! I WORK, YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS!"

"KATSUKI I CANNOT WATCH THE KIDS 24-7 WITHOUT YOUR HELP! I NEED BREAKS TOO! YOU HAVE TWO DAYS OFF A WEEK TO RELAX, AND CATCH UP ON SLEEP! WHILE I HAVE NIGHT TIME, BATHROOM BREAKS, RUNNING ERANDS, AND NAP TIMES TO CATCH A BREAK! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY HUSBAND TO HELP OUT WHEN HE HAS TIME OFF!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED THE KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE- WHY ARE YOU WHINING TO ME ABOUT HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF 'EM!"

"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THEY AREN'T YOURS!? WE BOTH AGREED ON DOING THE BEST WE COULD FOR OUR KIDS, AND YOU SAID THAT YOU'D HELP OUT WHENEVER YOU COULD!"

"Y/N IT WAS THIS ONE TIME- I WAS BUSY, I FORGOT!"

"YOU WERE PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS! THAT IS NOT BUSY!"

Blazing anger filled Bakugo as he stepped towards you, planning on simply getting closer to you to somehow try and make you see his side of things. He didn't mean to forget about picking up his kids, he loves his kids, he was simply engrossed in talking about them to his friends as he gamed, totally forgetting about the time and the fact that they were at school, waiting for someone to pick them up.

In truth, Bakugo felt bad. Really bad. But you wouldn't stop, so he continued, his unwavering pride making it near impossible to simply apologize and leave the argument behind.

Storming towards you, Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks as you flinched from him, eyes holding a certain terror. Wait- did you- did you think he was going to hurt you?!

Apologies and 'are you okay's were caught in Bakugo's throat as he opened his mouth, too terrified to speak.

Y/n.. his y/n was scared..of him. HIs y/n- the person that tore him out of his 'I don't care about anything or anyone' stage. She brought him out of his dark pit of self loathing, hating himself for how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything compared to that idiot Deku. She brought light into his world, she is his light. His first and last love, his wife, his center, his other half, his partner, his reason for life, the mother of his children, his one and only lover, his queen, his everything.

And he scared her.

Screamed at her for something that was his fault.

Treated her so badly that she flinched away from him- terror filling her eyes.

Her gorgeous e/c eyes. The same eyes that his sons had inherited. Now he's brought tears to three sets of those goregous eyes. What a scum bag.

Pain seared through Bakguo as he embraced his y/n, knowing if he left now she would entirely break, thinking that he was giving up on her. On their love. When in reality, he would't be. He would never dream of leaving her, or their beautiful children.

Because no matter how much of an a-hole Bakugo may be, he would never stoop that low. Never. And so he held her, and continued to hold her as she tearfully cussed him out, telling him how much she loved him and how much of an a-hole he was for treating her like that, their kids like that.

He just held her, telling her that he was sorry, that he knew, that he would make it up to her -and their seven year old twins- somehow.

And for now, that was enough. His love, and comfort was enough as you clung to him, insulting him while telling him that you loved his idiotic self in the same sentence, telling him that you loved him too much to not be able to forgive him.

And that if he was serious about making things right, that you would help him.

Because you were Bakugo y/n*. You chose to take his name and become his wife. Bakugo has helped you through so many up and downs, so you would do the same for him. Because he truly loved you, and you truly loved him.

*Japanese last names go in front of the first name to pay respect to the family name, and that's why Kirishima and Bakugo's other classmates call him Bakugo instead of Katsuki -to pay respect to his family name-. So you would be (in Japan anyway) Bakugo y/n (if you choose to take his last name) and strangers/aquaintnesses/not so close friends and co-workers would call you Bakugo instead of y/n. Annd due to me not liking Bakugo a whole lot I call him Bakugo or Baka/Bakuhoe instead of Katuski and call Todoroki and Midoriya, Shoto and Izuku- do you get what I'm saying?? I hope you do <33

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Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[matthewtkachuk]

last night (blame it on the vodka)

They say drunk words are sober thoughts, so what are drunken confessions of love?

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: a pinch of angst, swearing, alcohol (and its after effects - aka a fat hangover and a twinge of regret)

word count: 3k

a/n: matthew tkachuk is a stanley cup champion!!!! you know i had to do it to ya. ps this idea was formed a million years ago (pre trade) therefore I have simply plucked Cowboys from downtown Calgary to downtown Miami deal with it. big ups to @wyattjohnston for the edit and for outsourcing my geography queries. title and inspo from the song by the same name by lucy spraggan. enjoy my loves and let me know what you think <3

You’re never drinking again. 

It’s a mantra you repeat all morning, from the minute you’re dragged back into consciousness by the sound of construction down on the street, to when you finally pull from bed to dramatically slam the window shut, to the one-two-three-four times you end up with your knees on the bathroom mat and your head in the toilet. 

You’re far too old to be drinking like that on a nearly empty stomach, far too old to be drinking like that regardless. Okay, maybe that’s a tad dramatic, being a mostly single twenty something year old in downtown Miami. Mostly single in that every time you drank, your painfully unrequited crush on probably the one guy in all of Florida you couldn’t pull came out with a vengeance. 

Looking at your phone and all the unread texts you groan, realizing that the little girl who used to write ‘Mrs. Matty Tkachuk’ in all of her diaries came out in full force last night. 

Hyping yourself up, you type out and forward the message ‘What the hell did I do last night?’ to everyone you remember being out with you. Everyone, that is, except Matty himself. 

Brielle: Last night you told him you loved him 

It’s not atypical for you to be out on a Friday night, a group of your closest girlfriends at your side. Neither is it uncommon for the night to begin with the three of you taking thirst traps for the ‘gram before taking shots as the Uber pulls up. 

Cowboys is a favorite place, certainly not for the high class atmosphere or clientele—of which you’ll find neither. But who doesn’t love to let loose in an environment where the city boys of Miami don Stetsons and large belt buckles? And okay, maybe you’re a bit of a gambler—though, with money or love as the currency depends on the night. 

Tonight you’re pressing your luck, drinking enough to dull the edge and to keep you from overreacting to Matt’s response to the aforementioned Insta story. It’s a simple message, a string of fire emojis, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t refresh the app until his username appeared as ‘Seen’ under the story. 

You don’t want to think it means anything when he shows up with a couple of his boys an hour into dancing with the girls. Cowboys is a popular place, evidenced by the crowded dance floor and the complete lack of personal space. So what Brielle was wearing a cowboy hat in one of the pictures and so what everyone and their mother knew this bar was your favorite place to spend Friday nights and so what you’d even tagged the place in a boomerang of your shot glasses five minutes after arriving. 

It didn’t mean anything—doesn’t mean anything. 

That thought doesn’t stop you from abandoning your friends the second you see the all too familiar head of curls.

“Hi Matty,” you greet, stumbling into him and sliding your hand around his waist. He feels solid beneath your fingertips, warm and secure and everything you’ve ever wanted. His resulting grin could build and topple empires, you think. 

But then reality all comes crashing down again as he slides his arm around your shoulders in turn, squeezing gently as he replies, “Hey, Kid.”

It’s the gentle reminder you’ll never be anything more than the annoying girl next door who used to follow him and Brady around like they were the greatest thing in the world. 

If he notices the way you deflate, he doesn’t say a word, though his hand rubs comfortingly at your shoulder for a moment until you can’t stand it anymore and go back to your friends and their sympathetic faces. 

The thing about you when you drink is the filter comes off. Normally you play your cards close to your chest, making it very hard for others to know your emotions. But a little vodka and you’re suddenly ready to face your feelings head on. 

It starts off innocently enough, an over exaggerated ‘I love you!’ when he brings you a drink without you having to ask. But then Georgia is all but holding you down to prevent you from running after him and professing your love. She doesn’t succeed, what with you running into his arms midway through the night anyway. 

He has that same grin on his face as you tell him how much you love him, and though he doesn’t mean it the way you do, he tells you that he loves you too just the same. 

Though you haven’t eaten in at least twelve hours, the thought of food makes your already upset stomach turn some more, and so you settle for making a cup of tea to get some fluids back in you. 

Not quite ready to face the music in terms of what your alcohol fueled self did last night, you ignore the unread messages to flip through some Insta stories. There’s cute pics and videos of you and your girls, you screen shot your favorites and tap away until you pause on a boomerang of Georgia and Brielle. It’s cute enough if you ignore the small stain by Bri’s collar where she’d lost some of the second tequila shot. Oh, and you looking up at Matthew with the most pathetic lovesick look on your face in the background. 

It unsettles your stomach further, and so you abandon all plans of tea—turning off your kettle and grabbing the water bottle you’d prepped for yourself before you left last night and taking up residence on the couch. 

Putting on a random movie from your childhood on Disney+, you lay back and cover yourself with your favorite quilt. Another wave of nausea washes over you, and so you prop yourself up with a few extra pillows and fall asleep sitting up. 

It mustn’t be more than half an hour of uninterrupted sleep before you’re pulled out of it by the incessant buzzing of your phone. It’s a set of four pictures of you on Matt’s lap and another incriminating tidbit from the night before. 

Georgia: Last night you told him you need him

“Shut up Sammy,” you glare, angrily poking his chest with your index finger. You’re grateful for the uncharacteristic change in nail shape at your last manicure, the stiletto tip serving as a makeshift weapon that actually makes him wince before laughing in your face. 

Truthfully, you’re not sure how the night got to this point—you and your girls hanging around a table with Matty and his boys. You’re not complaining though, not with how your bare legs pressed to Matty’s jeans or how his arm rests above your shoulders, fingertips brushing your skin now and then. 

Matt can spot a fight coming from a mile away, well versed in the language that is your rage from the countless years he was the source of it, pulling on your pigtails and breaking your barbies. 

“That’s not my name,” Sam rolls his eyes, rubbing his chest and stealing a swig of your beer. “Lightweight.”

He’s referring to your drunken state and the fact that Matt himself had to drag you to the table with the promise of a Bud Light if, and only if, you drank an entire glass of water. Narrowing your eyes, you begin to lunge at him again, stopped only by the force of Matt pulling you onto his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, one hand resting on your stomach and the other on your bare knee. 

The effects of being wrapped up in him are almost instantaneous. Your rage quickly simmers, your body relaxes and you all but sink into the embrace. You quiet then, content to let the rest of the table do the talking for the moment while you memorize the feel of his arms. 

It’s a nervous habit to fiddle with the small charm around your neck, something you do unconsciously, not even noticing until it’s somehow come undone in your grasp. 

“Matty, I need you,” you whisper against the side of his face, watching his eyes darken and the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt with your fist coming at his face with your necklace clenched tightly within. 

He visibly relaxes, motioning for you to lean forward and swiping your hair to the side.You grab the strands of your hair after he takes the necklace from you, shivering as his cold hands drag across your skin. 

Georgia is shaking her head at you from across the table, having clearly read your lips and witnessed the little moment. You just smile and shrug at her before pressing a chaste kiss to the skin of Matt’s jaw. “Thank you.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dying. By the grace of some higher power, you haven’t seen the inside of your bathroom in a hot minute. Yes, you’ve finally moved past stage one of your hangover, however you’re not out of the woods yet. You’re dying a slow death on the couch—feeling yourself dip more and more into dangerous dehydration levels despite the giant water bottle on your coffee table that had been a gag gift from Matt last Christmas. 

Truthfully, the room is still a little spinny and your stomach still a little unsettled, but perhaps the worst of it all is the splitting headache and the sore throat. Both ailments make sense, you’re a yeller when you drink and you’re certain last night was no exception—even if the memories are slow to return to you. 

It’s not aggression, not really. It’s more that your body can’t contain all the emotions that you so carefully hide in your day to day life, and without the control that sobriety brings, you’re wont to let them all spill out. 

And really, you can’t linger on the what ifs too long, so you settle back in for another nap as an attempt to sleep off the symptoms of your poorly thought out night out with another movie playing as background noise. 

Elizabeth has just rejected Darcy when your phone lights up three times. 

sam: let’s just say you’re screwed if you ever wake up in vegas

you: fuck off sammy

sam: still not my name, lightweight 

sam: at least I didn’t propose last night 

“You know, Sammy,” you slur, no longer angry but keeping up the nickname in hopes that the table will think you are and Matty will let you stay in his arms. “You’re very lucky Liz agreed to marry you because other than the hockey thing you really have no redeeming qualities.”

“At least someone wanted to marry me,” he retorts not unkindly. 

“Matty would marry me,” you state confidently, tilting your head back to look up at the man beneath you. “Wouldn’t you, Matty?”

“Gonna have to get down on one knee, Kid,” Matty laughs, shaking your body slightly from where it leans against him. The dopiest smile crosses your face at the sound and you know you’re being far too obvious but you can’t help it. Matty laughing is your favorite sound, and happiness looks so good on him. There’s nothing you hate more than seeing him sad or upset. Nothing except dirty, sticky bar floors, which makes your next actions even more comical. 

Pulling from his arms for the first time in what feels like an eternity—not that you were complaining—you jump from the table and dramatically flop down to one knee. 

“Matthew—M-Matty,” you hiccup, keenly aware of the dozens of eyes on you and yet utterly uncaring of any of them except the icy blue you stare into now. “You’re my b-best friend. Marry me?”

The look he gives you is fond if frigid, not at all the passionate love declaration you were hoping for. Pouting deeply, you don’t move to pull up from the floor. “Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘not right now’,” he answers, getting up himself and pulling you up by your armpits. You wrap around him like a vine, not even protesting as he leads you to the bar to grab another glass of water and some appetizers for the table. 

God, you really regret asking about last night. Maybe it was better to live in beautiful, blissful ignorance — if you never remembered all the embarrassing behavior did it really happen? 

Unfortunately your vibrating phone simply refuses to let that happen. 

brielle: and you totally ate shit on the pavement leaving the bar last night 

That certainly explains the dull ache of your biceps, having caught the weight of you alongside breaking your fall. Luckily that appears to be the extent of the damage, given you can wiggle all of your fingers and toes and no other part of your body stings. 

Just your ego is bruised. 

“Why would we go home?” you ask, gesturing wildly at the emptying bar around you as though it were still the hopping venue of an hour ago. 

“Cause the bar staff would like to go home too,” Brielle explains kindly. 

“So we go to the next bar? I’m sure there’s somewhere still open, it’s only midnight!” 

Matty’s arm is heavy and warm and secure as it wraps around your shoulder to guide you to the exit. “I’ve already called us an Uber.”

You preen at the mention of an ‘us’ between you and Matt, suddenly docile and calm, allowing him to guide you outside. 

Far too preoccupied with the weight of him, you miss the broken piece of sidewalk and subsequently toe pick the crack, ending up face down on the pavement. 

Matt is quick, pulling you to your feet with ease and examining your face and upper body for damage. “You alright?”

“If I say no, will you kiss it better?” you crack back, only half joking. 

Shaking his head at your antics, he guides you into the waiting car before sliding in beside you. 

You’re quite content to lean your head on his shoulder the whole drive home, arm curled around his before letting him lead you to your bed.

A joke about inviting him into your bed doesn’t leave your lips, momentarily mesmerized by the gentle way he tucks you in, the soft press of his lips to your forehead. 

Could it possibly get worse, you wonder. 

Matty: let me up?

He’s got a key for emergencies, and although you usually appreciate that he doesn’t misuse it, in this case you almost wish he would let himself in. 

It would give you some extra time to compose yourself and—to be quite honest—you do yet harbor a little fear that getting vertical might have you running for the bathroom once again. 

Neither of those things happen—he doesn’t let himself in and you don’t throw up on your way to the door. You make quick work of the lock before opening the door to reveal Matthew looking as well rested as you’ve ever seen him. 

The contrast between the two of you is likely a stark difference, but his face doesn’t give anything away if he’s thinking it too. 

His first words to you are simple, full of care and compassion. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a bus that then backed right over me again,” you answer truthfully. 

His responding giggle makes your insides feel warm and you can only hope you don’t have the tell tale lovesick look on your face. There’s a moment of quiet contemplation—his chest visibly puffs up and then deflates as he takes a steeling breath. 

“You said some things last night,” he says and you feel your blood run ice cold in your veins. 

You attempt to deflect. “I say a lot of things, Matty. Especially when I’ve gotten into the Tito’s.”

He shakes his head and takes a step towards you. “Last night you said you loved me.”

“Of course I love you, you’re my best friend.” It’s not a lie, not completely anyway. You love him. He’s your best friend. So what if that love you have for him is something a little bit more than friendship? 

He shakes his head again, little ringlets of curls shaking with the motion. “Didn’t sound friendly. You said you needed me.” His voice is rough, tone something heavy. 

“To fix my necklace, Matty. What are you doing?” Your voice in response is a little wild—short clipped sentences spoken in quick succession.  

He appears frustrated. Not necessarily at you, you don’t think, but it’s clear on his face.  “That’s not—You said you wanted to marry me, got down on one knee even. 

“I was drunk, it’s not that deep.” 

He takes the remaining steps toward you, crowding your space and boxing you in with his arms. Yet you know with one word he would back off if you asked. 

You don’t ask. 

“But what if it is? What if I said that I love you too, that I need you too? That the only person who I’ve ever thought about marrying was you?”

“Matty, what are you doing?” you ask lowly, heart pounding so loud you fear he might hear it. 

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he murmurs and leans in until your lips barely touch. 

It's the invitation you feel you’ve waited a lifetime for. No amount of doubt or hesitation or uncertainty is going to stop you from wrapping yourself around him and deepening the kiss. 

It’s soft and sweet—two decades of buildup, of a beautiful friendship turned something more. It’s you and Matty the way it was always supposed to be—the way it was always going to end up. 

[heavndoll]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒.

pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.

summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.

warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.

author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.

likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ

you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.

he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.

murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.

you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.

your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.

rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.

the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.

your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.

if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.

you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.

rafe had to be eliminated first.

“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”

rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.

you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.

you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.

“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.

expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.

to the wine cellar basement.

and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.

but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.

“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”

you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”

“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.

the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.

before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.

rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.

god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?

rafe doesn’t recall killing you.

he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.

your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.

the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.

rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.

he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.

he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.

of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.

your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.

rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.

your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.

sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”

kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.

the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.

however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.

you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

or so he thought.

karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.

rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.

he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.

he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.

“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.

nothing. no one. not you.

why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.

rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.

you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.

you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.

that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.

but no. that never came, and never would.

you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.

your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.

why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?

was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?

rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”

sick. not regretful. fucking sick.

sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.

the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.

he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.

“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”

“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”

barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.

rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.

the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.

rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.

“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”

“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.

rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.

“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.

nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.

you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.

rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.

you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.

rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.

your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.

barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”

he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.

he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.

it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.

your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.

pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.

you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.

rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.

dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.

he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.

a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.

he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.

rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.

he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.

oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.

he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.

you only frowned. “so you know.”

like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.

he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.

you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.

“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.

he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.

it was you.

“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?

rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.

he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.

he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.

he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”

he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”

“heaven?” rafe asked.

you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”

“he’s an angry man?”

“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”

rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.

he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.

rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.

they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.

the earth was consuming you.

he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.

your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.

you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.

however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.

even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.

rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.

and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.

[girasollake]

everything i wanted

ꨄpairing: neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader / jake sully x reader(platonic)

ꨄrequested: no

ꨄtype: mostly angst, some fluff

ꨄsummary: you always wanted to feel appreciated, neteyam always wanted to be the best warrior; in short: u seek validation in older men cause you dont have family and because you are the best warrior, neteyam is jealous of you, the whole fic roughly follows the plot of atwow!!! ummmm kinda enemies to lovers?????

ꨄwarnings: SPOILERS AHEAD, DONT READ IF U HAVENT SEEN ATWOW, mentions of being shot, angst, my bad writing cause i havent written anything since september, reader is a year older than neteyam

ꨄa/n: i feel like this is so bad i am sorry

ꨄword count: 3,402

‘How could you both be so stupid?’ You threw your hands in the air and shot a glare at Neteyam. ‘You could’ve died! Does that mean nothing to you? Your father explicitly told you to observe, not engage! You are like a child Neteyam, both you and Lo’ak!’

‘I wanted to stop him, he’s just too disobedient.’ He avoided your eyes.

‘And you had to take the blame again? He’s never going to learn if you keep doing that.’ You shook your head and sighed.

‘Can you stop? I’m the oldest and I need to protect my siblings.’

‘No. No, Neteyam. I am the oldest. I may not be your sibling but I am the oldest and, believe it or not, I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to them.’

Especially you.

‘You can protect them, be a big brother, but don’t take credit for every stupid thing they do!’ You moved closer to him and snapped your fingers in front of his face to get his attention. ‘I know you want to prove your father you can be a warrior, but it doesn’t mean that you have to put your life at risk when Lo’ak does something stupid.’ You huffed. ‘Just be careful next time.’

Neteyam felt jealous of you, of the way his father trusted you enough to put you in risky missions because he knew you would survive, of the way he praised your fighting skills and of the way he put you on a pedestal. You were born during the first war with the sky people and both of your parents had died fighting. The clan surrounded you with love when you were growing up, but you had never had anyone to call a mother or a father. You were just an orphan trying to find a place alongside everyone that you crossed paths with. So, when Neteyam was jealous of you having his father approval and trust, you were jealous of him for having a real family. When you were younger you would hide behind the trees and watch them cuddle underneath the night sky, your little heart breaking and longing for this kind of comfort and love. Even though you were Omatikaya by blood you still sometimes felt like an outsider. You occupied your time with training, flying, shooting arrows and that’s why Jake was impressed, that’s why you were one of his favorite warriors and he knew he could trust you. He even got you your own gun, which Neteyam and Lo’ak were especially jealous of.

Deep down you knew what this was about. Jake cared about you, but not like he cared about his own children. That was the real reason you were sent on those missions, the reason he took you everywhere with him on fights. He just didn’t want to risk his sons life's. You knew that and you still took part in everything because those were the moments when you felt like you belong.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

‘Can we talk?’ Jake asked from behind you.

‘Of course, sir.’ You nodded your head and stopped sharpening the spears.

He sat down next to you and sighed.

‘We are leaving tomorrow.’ He said firmly. ‘This is not a safe place for my family anymore.’

‘Oh, I see.’ You whispered, a wave of sadness ran through your whole body.

‘I want you to come with us.’ Your ear twitched and you looked up at him with hopeful eyes. ‘And I want you to promise me you will protect my children when I won’t be able to do it myself.’

‘I promise.’ You answered quickly. ‘I’ll do my best, sir.’

He smiled at you and stood up, ‘Tomorrow after the ceremony. Be ready.’ He shot you one last glance and walked away.

The next day you were waiting for the Sully family by the ikrans, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud shriek of Tuk.

‘Are you coming with us (Y/n)?’ She asked after she ran up to you.

‘I am.’ You smiled at her and after giving you a hug she ran back to her mom in order to get on an ikran with her.

While you were checking your bags attached to your own animal, you felt someone intensely staring at the back of your head. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Neteyam. You never knew why he gave you those weird glances, a part of you wished they weren’t that hateful. At first you tried being friends with him, but after a while his behavior towards you had changed. While you were getting along with his younger siblings, he was always staying away from you, watching your every move. The relationship between you felt like some sort of rivalry, but there was always this warm feeling you couldn’t shake off when you knew he was nearby.

After a long, tiring flight to the Metkayina clan you were exhausted, the thought of laying down was the only one in your head. You made the appropriate gesture towards the Tsahik and the Olo’eyktan when they arrived and you suddenly felt really small under Ronal’s gaze. She started walking around you all, examining your tails and postures.

‘Is this also your child, Jakesully?’ She asked, you could feel her judging eyes on you.

‘No. She’s not my child, but she is the best warrior in our clan and she is important to my family.’

‘Is that true?’ She moved to look into your eyes.

‘Yes, Tsahik Ronal.’ You gave her a long nod and felt the warm feeling spreading in your heart after hearing that you were important to the Sully’s.

She whispered something to herself and went back to her husband who a moment later agreed that all of you could stay with them. You smiled to yourself when you were walking through the village following Tsireya, everything felt so fresh and untouched by war, those people didn’t live in fear unlike your clan. You dropped your belongings on the floor and went over to Neytiri to help her.

‘It’s okay, you can go with others and learn the Metkayina ways, I can handle the unpacking.’ She told you and put her hand on your arm.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, go.’ She smiled sweetly and playfully pushed you towards the exit of your new home.

You ran towards the shore and started looking for your friends. When you finally spotted them you quickly jumped into the water and swam quickly in their direction.

‘Can I join?’ You asked Tsireya when you emerged from the water.

‘Of course!’ She gave you a smile. ‘Follow us everyone.’

After swimming for a while she took all of you to meet the ilu’s and learn how to ride them. You were scared of failure, especially after seeing how fast Lo’ak let go of his ilu. Tsireya helped you get on the animal and told you that you’re gonna be okay, you just have to hold it tight.

‘How could she not be fine? She’s the best warrior after all.’ Neteyam muttered with annoyance.

‘Stop it.’ Kiri smacked his arm.

‘What? She shouldn’t be here, her place is with the clan. I don’t even get why she’s here with us in the first place.’

‘It’s not my fault your dad values my skills more than he does yours.’ You replied harshly and then without a second thought told your ilu in your mind to go forward.

You felt angry at Neteyam, rage was filling your body. You were the best for a reason and you would prove that to him. You tightened your grip on the handle attached to the animal’s body and took the biggest breath in your life before diving into the depths of the ocean. The speed was horrible and you felt your hand slowly relaxing.

No. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

You tightened your fist and held the handle even harder than before. After readjusting your position and squeezing your thighs to feel more steady you felt the oxygen slowly leaving your lungs. You shut your eyes and rode upwards, soon emerging from the water and jumping with your ilu only to dive again. You rode over to your friends and smiled at Tsireya. Everyone was impressed, because this was your first try and it definitely required special skills to get it this perfect. Annoyance was written on Neteyam’s face, he scoffed and started swimming away. You sighed and got off the ilu.

‘Neteyam, wait!’ You screamed and swam towards him.

He didn’t even look back and you reached him after you both got out of the water.

‘Neteyam, what happened?’ You touched his arm and he immediately turned around to face you.

‘You happened.’ He scoffed. ‘I am tired of you taking my place all the time. I try so hard to meet my dad’s standards and it’s never appreciated because of you!’

‘It’s not my fau-‘

‘It is. It is your fault.’ He interrupted your sentence and walked away quickly.

And there it was again. The feeling of loneliness consumed you once again, when the boy you adored walked away feeling only hatred towards you. Sure, you were often picking fights with him, replying to his comments with the same energy, but maybe this time you really did take it too far?

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

You were helping Tsireya with some of the duties one day and Neteyam was far from you, but still in your sight. You were stealing quick glances at him so that your friend wouldn’t see it, when suddenly he quickly swam away and you couldn’t see him anymore. You excused yourself and left Tsireya by herself to go and see what had happened that made him go that fast. The closer you got to the direction he swam towards, the better you heard voices screaming and sounds of fighting. You came over to Kiri, she was softly laughing at the pile of boys in front of her. You had to admit it was funny, but at the same time you were all supposed to be on your best behavior. Because of that, you walked over to them and hissed loudly, their heads turning to face you.

‘Enough.’ You spat and looked over at Lo’ak and Neteyam. ‘Both of you.’

They stood up and walked towards Kiri, you hissed at the Metkayina boys once again and turned around to join the Sully’s.

‘It was going well, you didn’t have to-‘

‘Was it, Lo’ak?’ You stopped and looked at him. ‘You were supposed to be on your best behavior, what were you thinking?’ You turned to the older boy.

He didn’t reply to you, he just took his brother by his arm and walked away.

‘You are both unbelievable.’ Kiri whispered making you turn your head in her direction.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just tell him you like him already.’ She whined.

‘You know I can’t.’ A sigh escaped your lips. ‘He hates me, Kiri. He sees me as a rival, he despises me.’

‘He doesn’t.’

‘He does.’ You said louder. ‘I don’t want to talk about it anymore, let’s go.’

‘Lo’ak was the one that started that fight, he was just helping him.’

‘I know.’ You replied and looked down, soon arriving at your home.

‘And you? Why weren’t you keeping an eye on them?’ Jake turned to you when you entered the shack.

‘I’m sorry, I was helping Tsireya.’ You avoided his gaze. ‘Next time I won’t let anything happen to them.’

And you were right.

You jumped down from your ikran and landed on the sky people’s ship. Neteyam found his way to his siblings and Tsireya as fast as you, jumping onto the deck from his ilu. You shot your arrows towards some sky people coming towards you.

‘Cut the handcuffs!’ You told him when he reached you.

‘Come on, bro. Hurry up!’ Lo’ak screamed at his brother.

You turned around and saw Tsireya and Tuk jumping into the water, ‘Go! Both of you!’ You yelled at the brothers.

Neteyam started dragging the boy away, ‘They have Spider! We have to help him!’ Lo’ak tugged on his brother’s arm.

You locked your eyes with Neteyam, ‘Shit!’ He hissed. ‘Okay, let’s go.’

‘No, you are not going anywhere.’ You stopped both of them. ‘Go back to your father, right now.’

‘We have to help Spider, please (Y/n).’ Lo’ak looked at you with terrified eyes.

‘UGH!’ You shook your head and hang your bow on your body. ‘Just stay close.’ You told them and ran towards the inside of the ship.

You were quietly moving on the big pipe on the ceiling when some people started walking your way, Spider was surrounded by them in a circle. All three of you jumped down at the people and freed your friend, but then a pure moment of joy was interrupted by gunshots firing your way.

‘Go! Go!’ You screamed and pushed the boys towards a wall that would hide all of you.

Neteyam snatched the gun from Lo’ak and started shooting at the enemies, you pulled out the gun Jake had gifted you and helped him.

‘I’ll tell you when to jump and you jump!’ You shouted and looked over at them, they were rapidly nodding their heads. You gave a few more shots towards the enemies and took a deep breath. ‘Now!’

Lo’ak and Spider jumped quickly into the water, you pushed Neteyam first and jumped as the last person. For a second you felt relief when you heard their happy screams, but it was washed away when you started struggling with keeping your head above the water. Adrenaline started coming down and you felt your lower abdomen on fire.

‘Yes! We did it bro!’ Lo’ak hugged his brother who was laughing softly.

‘Come on! We need to go!’ Neteyam yelled when Tsireya came up from the water riding her ilu.

‘Nete…Neteyam…’ You coughed.

His smile faded and he rapidly swam towards you.

‘I’m shot you skxawng.’

‘Shit! Shit!’ He cursed. ‘Just hold on a second!’ He held you tightly and sat you down on the ilu. ‘It’s okay, just hold on.’ His panicked voice echoed through your ears.

He saw his father standing on a rock and everyone started screaming for him. A worried expression came up on his face when he saw his son holding you tightly.

‘She’s shot, dad, help her!’ They started pulling you up to rest you on the wet rock.

Jake inspected your body only to see a big wound on your lower stomach which was quickly bleeding out.

‘Take her to the village, right now.’ He told Neteyam and helped put you on the animal again.

Neteyam held you in his arms as he tried to ride the animal as quickly as he could without causing more damage to you.

‘Hold on, okay? Don’t you dare die on me!’ He yelled to you.

‘But I am so sleepy, Nete..’ Your voice was weak, but he still heard you.

‘No, don’t sleep, we’re right there, just…Just hold on..’ He finally saw the village and hope filled him up. ‘We’re here, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.’ He looked down at you to check if your eyes were still open and he saw you slowly blinking. ‘HELP! I NEED HELP!’ He screamed as loud as he could which caught the attention of some people by the coast, they quickly ran to get the Tsahik who was helping other wounded warriors.

‘Neteyam..’ You coughed.

‘We’re here, hold on for me.’ He looked down at you again.

‘I see…’ Your voice was getting weaker. ‘I see you, Neteyam.’ You whispered and closed your eyes.

‘No. No, no, no. Help! I need the Tsahik!’ He got off the ilu holding your limp body in his arms.

Ronal emerged from behind the people and told him to put you in one of the shacks. The Tsahik pushed him outside and covered the entrance with a curtain made out of big leaves and seaweed. Neteyam finally felt the tears on his face which previously were washed away by the splashing water. He didn’t know what to do, fear, sadness and adrenaline were running through his body. He waited for what felt like hours and when he felt Tuk’s arms around him all of a sudden he felt safe. His whole family was okay and when he came eye to eye with his father, he broke down crying again. Jake hugged his son and caressed his hair with his hand. A sudden rustle made Neteyam break the comforting hug. Everyone turned towards the sound, Ronal was standing in front of the shack, her expression was unreadable. She locked eyes with Neteyam.

‘She’s alive. Barely.’ She stated.

‘Thank you, Great Mother.’ Kiri whispered and hugged her brother from the side.

‘She needs a lot of rest and I am not certain if she will survive the night.’ Ronal said and started walking away. ‘Do not bother her. Now it is all up to Eywa.’

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Your nostrils were filled with a disgusting smell which made you slowly open your eyes. You saw Ronal putting some type of paste on your wound and you hissed.

‘I guess this means I’m not dead.’ You whispered, your voice hoarse.

‘No, but it was close.’ She replied and wrapped some bandages around your stomach. ‘Rest, my child.’ She whispered and walked out, leaving you alone once again.

After a while the silence was interrupted by Jake, ‘Hi.’ He said as he sat down next to you.

‘I told you I’d keep them safe.’ You weakly smiled at him and he let out a soft laugh.

‘Yeah, I knew you would.’ His smile quickly faded. ‘I.. I wanted to thank you. For protecting them. And I’m sorry for using you so much, on all of those fights… I forget that you are still young, god… You’re only a year older than Neteyam and I’ve never thought something like this would happen to you…’ He paused. ‘You have a whole life in front of you, I’m sorry for trying to take that away and not protecting you.’

‘It’s okay.’ You whispered. ‘I know you only wanted to keep your family safe.’

He nodded and stood up, a tear fell down his cheek. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but nothing came out, he gave you one last smile and walked outside. After a while you closed your eyes because the light started bothering you, but you immediately opened them when you felt someone put their hand in yours. You looked at the way your fingers were intertwined with Neteyam’s and gave him a soft smile.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He whispered.

‘You have nothing to be sorry about.’ You coughed out.

‘I have. I am sorry for getting angry at you, for getting jealous about my father and for..’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ You whispered and stroked his hand with your thumb. ‘And I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t be taking your place by your dad’s side.’

He nodded and squeezed your hand, ‘It’s okay, I know you just wanted someone to be proud of you. Kiri told me how… How you feel like an outsider all the time, because you don’t have…’

‘Parents?’

‘Yeah.’ He looked down at the floor.

‘After all these years I got used to having no one, but when your dad and other warriors from the clan were so proud of me… I just felt this hapiness that I finally belong somewhere, that’s why I always wanted to be the best…I’m sorry again, Neteyam.’

‘I forgive you.’ He smiled. ‘I can’t believe you were ready to die for me.’ He softly laughed and you reciprocated the smile.

‘I can.’ You whispered. ‘And I forgive you too, for being so mean to me.’ Your smile grew wider. ‘But you were cute when you were angry.’

‘Is that so?’ You gave him a long nod. ‘And now I’m not?’

‘No.’

‘Liar.’

Your giggles filled up the space around you and you didn’t even notice when he got so close to your face. You felt his breath on your skin and he put his other hand on your cheek.

‘I always thought you hated me.’ You whispered into his lips.

‘Do you still think that?’

‘No.’ It left your lips more like a breath rather than a word.

He finally closed the gap between you and it all just felt right. His lips on yours felt so right. You finally felt like you were not alone.

‘I see you, (Y/n).’

likes and reblogs are appreciated<3

taglist: @neteyamsgirl @vviolaswrld

[pupuyvs]

epilogue

4 years later…

Chaewon groans as she paces back and forth.

“Chaewon sweetie I told you to calm down, you’re going to drive yourself insane,” her mother says while relaxing on the girl’s couch.

Chaewon stops and turns to her mother, clearly annoyed by her nonchalance, “I would be calm if everyone just arrived on time.”

Sighing, Yoona pats the spot next to her on the couch. Chaewon reluctantly sits down, a small dog jumping on her lap as soon as she does.

“Today is supposed to be a good day, not stressful. Relax, everything will work out, everyone is on their way.”

Before Chaewon could respond a knock on the door rings out, standing abruptly, the dog on her lap immediately jumping, she rushes to open the door.

“Mrs. and Mr. Yoo,” she exclaims.

The two walk in each taking turns hugging the girl.

“Chaewon sweetie what did I tell you about calling me Mrs. Yoo, you know its Mama Yoo to you,” Jihye’s mother says to her as she closes the door. Blushing slightly, Chaewon nods, “Right, I’m sorry.”

Waving her off she takes a look around the apartment, gasping when she sees the other’s mother.

“Yoona,” she exclaims before rushing to hug the other woman.

“Oh, Seohyun, it’s so good to see you again,” she then turns to the man who followed behind the other woman, “Taecyeon.”

“Yoona.”

The two stare at each other before breaking out into laughs, the man then leaning down to hug the other woman, “It’s good to see you again.”

Yoona nods before Seohyun exclaims once more as she suddenly kneels down to the white dog that was desperately trying to gain someone’s attention, “And who is this?”

“Shiro.”

“He’s adorable, isn’t he Taec?”

The man nods with a sigh, and then turns to Yoona and Chaewon, “She’s been trying to convince me to adopt another dog for the past few months when we already have two.”

“And what’s wrong with another one,” Seohyun says as she stands up, Shiro now in her arms.

“Nothing sweetheart, nothing.”

Satisfied with his answer, Seohyun goes to sit on the couch next to Yoona, who has also sat back down.

“Chaewon, this apartment is beautiful by the way, I love how you decorated it.”

Smiling as she comes back with bottles of water for the Yoo parents, she places them on the table for them, “Thank you, but truthfully I can’t take credit for this, Jihye mainly did this room.”

“Really,” Seohyun asks as she finally puts Shiro down to take a sip of water, “I’d never expect her to be good at decorating, she always took after her dad when it came to things like this.”

“It was surprising to me too. How was your guy's flight?”

“Actually pretty well, however, who knew California was so far from us.”

Yoona goes to agree as another knock on the door causing Chaewon to jump out of her seat, leaving the parents to talk as she goes to open it.

“About fucking time.”

“Don’t blame me, blame these two idiots,” Eunchae says while pointing to the couple behind her, earning a slap at the back of her head from Aeri.

“Don’t be rude, my baby was hungry.”

Eunchae rolls her eyes, “Doesn’t mean we have to spend thirty minutes ordering the entire fucking menu.”

This earns her another slap to the head which causes her to groan out loud and turn around, “You’re going to kill all my brain cells before I can go to college.”

“Good,” Aeri says as she guides Minjeong into the living room, “Don’t be nasty towards my wife next time.”

Eunchae simply flips her off before running to the kitchen as Yoona scolds her.

“Oh, Minjeong you’re simply glowing,” Yoona says as she helps Aeri get her on the couch.

“Thank you Ms. Im.”

“How far along are you now,” Seohyun asks this time.

“Seven months,” Aeri says happily.

Two years after graduation, Minjeong and Aeri’s parents had found out about their relationship. Not happy with their relationship, their parents immediately told them to break up. Not one to listen, Aeri had decided to not only not break up with her, but propose, which Minjeong had ultimately said yes to.

Due to this act not only tying their lives together, but their parent’s businesses together, as they were both the sole heir of their companies, their parents had no choice but to come around to it.

After almost two years of marriage the two had decided they wanted a child together, leading them to where they are now.

Before Chaewon can close the door someone slams into it, leaning down out of breath.

“Never let Eunchae guide anyone anywhere,” Yujin says as she stands up.

“Not my fault you drive slow as hell and walk even slower,” Eunchae shouts from the kitchen, currently destroying a bag of chips.

“Slow? You were going like two-hundred miles per hour and then left us to find a parking spot twenty blocks away.”

“Aeri wanted to be as close to the apartment as she could for her baby,” Eunchae retorts, the last part being said with a sweet tone as means to mock Aeri.

“Where are the others,” Chaewon asks before the two can start arguing.

“Coming up now, since you know we had to park in another state,” Yujin says as she walks into the kitchen snatching the chip bag from Eunchae, flipping her off when she complains, “You didn’t have to take the only spot in front of the apartment bastard.”

“Blame annoying ass Aeri and Minjeong.”

“Keep talking shit about me and my wife,” Aeri says, heading into the kitchen, “My babies only deserve the best.”

Both girls pretend to gag which makes Chaewon shake her head as she turns back to the hallway where she finds Yunjin walking towards her with her arms open, “Miss me?”

But before Chaewon can respond Yunjin gets shoved out the way, “Move your big ass head, she don’t wanna see you she wanna see me.”

Chaewon is then brought into a crushing hug by Yizhuo, “My bestie, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Chaewon says, “It’s been too long.”

Pulling back to look at her Yizhuo pouts, “It wouldn’t have been this long if you didn’t up and leave us in Korea.”

“You know I had to, Stanford was perfect for Jihye.”

Yizhuo nods but gasps when she looks over Chaewon’s shoulder and pushes past her, “Is that Mama Yoo?”

Seohyun, now standing, smiles widely, “Is that my baby Yizhuo?”

Now with the doorway clear Yunjin, Kazuha, and Jimin walk in, each giving Chaewon a hug as they pass her.

“Nice to see you too Mom,” Jimin says as she watches her girlfriend and mom hug.

“Oh hush, you’re always coming home, I never get to my Zhuozhuo.”

“Zhuozhuo?”

Jimin nods as she comes back to stand next to Chaewon, rolling her eyes, “Nickname she gave her a couple years ago, I swear she’s practically disowned me as her child.”

Chaewon laughs before taking out her phone and seeing the time, “Alright everyone,” she says seriously, “We need to leave now.”

“I’m not driving Aeri and Minjeong again,” Eunchae says as she enters the entryway, which earns her a hit on the back of her head from Aeri.

“That’s fine you can take all the parents, I’ll take Jimin and Yizhuo, Yujin you take the rest.”

Not allowing anyone to argue, Chaewon takes her keys from the hook and opens the door for everyone to leave.

The graduation went by without a hitch, though they were much further back than Chaewon wanted.

But any complaints disappeared as she watched Jihye walk across the stage, their friends and family clearly feeling the same way as they were probably the loudest people there.

As they stepped out of the stadium they began to look for Jihye, who was on the phone with Seohyun trying to guide them to her.

“I see her,” Eunchae exclaims before taking off.

Jumping on her she shocks Jihye, “Eunchae? What are you doing here?”

Before she can answer the group comes up in front of her, “We couldn’t miss our bros graduation,” Yujin says.

Pulling away from Eunchae Jihye can’t hide the shock as she immediately crashes into her friend group, them all pulling her into a hug, which Seohyun makes sure to take a picture of.

Pulling back slightly to look at them Jihye’s eyes are still wide, “I can’t believe you guys are here, holy shit.”

Not giving them a chance to respond she pulls them back into a hug. When they finally pull apart she sees Minjeong and Aeri, who were standing slightly behind the friend group.

“Holy shit you’re huge,” Jihye says earning her a small slap from her mother, “Sorry it just came out.”

Minjeong just laughs as she approaches Jihye to give her a hug, “I am huge, aren’t I?”

“How far along are you now?”

“Seven months,” Minjeong tells her.

“Wow,” Jihye says, clearly in shock, “Time flies, it seems like just yesterday you guys were getting married, which sorry again we didn’t get to attend.”

Minjeong waves her off as she steps to the side so her wife can greet Jihye, which she does with a pinch to her side.

“That’s for calling my wife huge,” Aeri says when Jihye yelps. Nodding in understanding the girl hugs Aeri, when she pulls away Seohyun announces its picture time.

While waiting for the next person to come next to her to take a picture she furrows her eyebrows, “Where’s everyone else at?”

”Yeji and Chaeryeong are currently having their honeymoon in the Maldives,” Yunjin starts, “Wonbin is going on a tour with his father to their company’s branches since he’s taking over soon, Wonyoung has a fashion show and Yuna, well she got called up.”

“Yuna got called up to the national team,” Jihye exclaims.

Nodding Yunjin wraps her arm around her waist so Seohyun can take the picture.

“Insane…”

After a few more pictures Chaewon finally walks up to Jihye, the sight of her causes Jihye’s already impossibly wide smile to widen.

“Hi beautiful,” Jihye says as she pulls Chaewon to her.

“Hello, my love.”

She presses a kiss to her head, “Sorry I didn’t say hi to you first.”

Chaewon shakes her head, “I don’t mind, you haven’t seen them for years.”

“Still I should’ve said hi,” which Chaewon immediately waves off before pulling Jihye into a kiss.

Pulling away she brings her hand up to wipe up some of the lipgloss she left on Jihye’s lip, “I’m so proud of you,” she tells her.

Still slightly dazed from the kiss, Jihye smiles, “Thank you baby.”

“Hate to interrupt this, but our reservation time is coming up,” Yoona tells them.

Nodding, Jihye begins to walk with the group, her hand around Chaewon’s waist, when her name is suddenly called out.

Turning around she sees a taller man and immediately gestures for him to come over. Removing her arm from Chaewon’s waist, which earns her a small glare, she hugs the man, pulling away, she faces the group, “Guys this is Stephen, Stephen this is my family and friends.”

Everyone says hi to him, except for Chaewon who is too busy glaring.

She knew the man through Jihye, due to the fact they partnered a lot Chaewon had learned about him, though she had never met him until now, and she didn’t like the way he was now holding Jihye’s waist.

“So, where are you heading now,” Stephen asks Jihye.

“Dinner, what about you?”

“I don’t think my parents planned anything, so probably go home and enjoy being classes free.”

“Why don’t you join us,” Yoona asks, much to Chaewon’s dismay.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Stephen says back bashfully.

“You wouldn’t,” Seohyun says this time, “The more the merrier.”

Nodding the man pauses for a second, “Is it okay if my parents come too,” he asks hesitantly.

“Of course!”

“Thank you, I’ll go tell them now then,” turning to Jihye he smiles, “Text me the details?”

Nodding she brings him in for one final hug and waves when he walks away.

Turning around she immediately grabs Chaewon’s hand and follows the group as they begin to leave. Furrowing her eyebrows she looks down at the girl beside her when she notices she’s being a lot more quiet.

“Chae?”

She hums.

“What’s wrong?”

When she shakes her head in response, Jihye knows she’s lying. Pulling her lightly to get her to stop, she faces her.

“Baby…talk to me.”

“Does Stephen like you?”

“What,” the question leaves Jihye dumbfounded, “I don’t…think so…”

Chaewon tilts her head, disbelief crossing her face causing Jihye to laugh.

“I’m serious baby, we don’t really talk about stuff like that.”

“So, what do you guys talk about?”

“I don’t know,” Jihye takes a moment to think, “Class, what he plans to do in Korea.”

Chaewon takes a step back, huffing out lightly, “Are you serious? He just so happens to be moving to Korea when we’re going b-”

Chaewon’s cut off by Jihye, “What are you doing? They could possibly hear us,” exasperated she tries again, “Baby, he’s moving back because his family wants to, his brother is a trainee over there.”

“And did he tell you that before or after you mentioned,” she pauses, “That.”

“…After.”

“He likes you,” Chaewon says as she begins to walk away. Chasing after her Jihye holds her hand when she comes next to her, “Baby, even if he did like me, I don’t care because I have the most beautiful, the most perfect girlfriend in the world who I am madly in love with.”

Chaewon shyly knocks shoulders with Jihye, “Sweet talker.”

Yizhuo turns to them, “Love y’all having a moment, but can y’all hurry up I’m starving.”

Pressing one final kiss to Chaewon’s lips they head to the car.

Before they can enter the restaurant Jimin pulls Jihye to the side, quickly reassuring Chaewon everything was fine when she looks at them.

When everyone walks in Jimin looks around before leaning into Jihye, “So did you bring it?”

Jihye nods causing Jimin to smile widely, “I can’t believe it, you are for real about to marry Chaewon.”

“I don’t know if I should.”

Jimin looks at her like she just grew three heads, “What do you mean? You’re having doubts,” hitting Jihye’s arm when she nodded, “Why? You were so sure when you told me.”

“I know, but…what if I’m not good enough?”

“What? Hye, that girl is in love with you.”

“Yeah, but when we go bac-”

“Back,” Jimin asks, “Wait, you guys are coming back to Korea?”

Wincing Jihye nods, “Yeah, we’re supposed to tell you guys at dinner, fuck, I fucked up. Well…now that you know, when we go back she’s going to be training to take over her father’s business and no matter what I work as I’ll never live up to that, I mean hell the only reason I was able to head to college is because she threatened her father.”

When Chaewon and Jihye had come back from their graduation trip her father had been furious, he viewed Jihye as below Chaewon and a possible future hindrance to her. However, Chaewon objected stating that if her father does not only accepted Jihye, but help her go to college then she would step away from the business, Eunchae even stating that she would do the same. Left with no choice their father accepted, however to show his disapproval he decided to distance himself until Chaewon would come back from California.

“Hye, where is this coming from?”

“I’ve always had these doubts, they go away, but they always come back. I just, I don’t know.”

Jimin sighs softly, “Jihye, Chaewon is madly in love with you, I’m sure the only reason she hasn’t asked you to marry her is because she’s unsure if that’s what you want. I get being worried, I feel it too sometimes being with Yizhuo, but then I remember that being with her makes me so happy that letting something as dumb as doubts ruin us seems ridiculous. So don’t let your stupid doubts ruin today.”

Nodding, the two girls are then interrupted by Yujin, “You guys good? Your girls are getting kinda antsy without you, especially you Jihye. Chaewon hasn’t stopped interrogating your friend.”

Groaning, she heads for the restaurant door, “She swears he’s in love with me.”

Before she could enter Jimin grabs her hand, “You good now?”

Nodding, she hugs Jimin quickly, “Thank you, now let’s go before Chaewon comes out here with Stephen’s head on a stick.”

The beach wasn’t packed as Jihye and Chaewon walked along it. After dinner, which went amazingly well, especially when they told everyone they were moving back, Jihye had asked Chaewon if they could take a walk at the beach. Chaewon had of course said yes, stating they could do whatever she wanted as today was her day.

So after departing from everyone, Chaewon and Jihye headed to the beach alone. Or so Chaewon thought, after assuring Jimin once more she would go through with her plan, Jimin had redirected everyone to the beach so they could wait where it would happen.

As they walked closer, Jihye couldn’t stop her heart from beating out of her chest.

“Are you okay baby,” Chaewon asks, clearly seeing the girl was nervous.

“Of course.”

“Do you want to stop for a second?”

Jihye quickly shakes her head, “No, I can go for a few more minutes.”

Accepting her answer the girls walk for a bit more before Jihye stops, looking at her curiously Chaewon is a bit shocked to find the taller girl practically hyperventilating.

“Baby, are you alright?”

Jihye nods, “Yes, I just…you know I love you right?”

“Of course.”

“Good, because I’m about to sound like a complete fool, but just bear with me,” taking a deep breath to calm herself Jihye grabs Chaewon’s other hand as she stands in front of her.

“These past four years have been by the far the best years of my life. If you were to have told freshman me that I would be in California with Kim Chaewon as my girlfriend, she wouldn’t believe you. Truthfully she may have even thought you were crazy, I mean me, with the Kim Chaewon…unbelievable. But here I am…and I couldn’t be happier. Chaewon you are my world, my universe, and I couldn’t bear living in a world where you’re not in my life,” she pauses to wipe a tear that is coming down Chaewon’s face, “I know I’m terrible at words, but truthfully there is nothing I can say that could possibly tell you just how much I love you. But there is a way I can show you.”

She lets go of Chaewon’s hands as she reaches into her pocket to retrieve a ring box, which garners a gasp from Chaewon, getting down on one knee she opens up the ring box, “Kim Chaewon, the love of my life, will you marry me?”

Not even a second passes before Chaewon responds, “Yes, of course.” As soon as she places the ring on Chaewon’s finger she finds herself laying in the sand, Chaewon laying multiple kisses on her face.

Only stopping when their friends and family come out from where they were hiding to cheer them on.

When they get up Chaewon immediately latches onto Jihye, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Cupping her cheeks Chaewon pulls her in for a kiss, their friends immediately cheering except for one.

“Y’all are so gay.”

“Fuck off Eunchae.”

a/n: where do i even begin…i guess i should start off by saying thank you. the feedback i received for this au was…amazing to say the least and im truly so glad that you guys fell in love with these characters as much as i did. i truly wanted to make this 10k words long, but i also knew that was just me wanting to prolong this au from finally end 😭😭 but i couldnt prolong it no more. though this is the end of goal as a whole i will still be doing bonus chapters so if there is anything of chaehye??? hyewon??? jichae??? and their group u want to see tell me ill be down to write it. other than that thats it! i do have two smaus im currently writing which ill link here and here, however u are not obligated to read them whatsoever. if u do, i hope u enjoy what i have planned if you dont, thank you for reading what i had planned and i hope so see you again someday. this a/n long as hell so ill end it here by saying thank u again, take care, and to jihye, chaewon and friends i love yall 🫂🫂🫂🫂

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taglist: @myouiiiiiiii @bbanghanni @impossiblesharkcashrebel @lesbodietcoke @wmnrhot @pandafuriousa60 @jisooftme @rinapomu @r4cjh @snsdwater @chaewoni3 @73vyn @chaepu @haerinkisser @bagwhy @glassflowerpetals @mineige @jjongscardigan @dutifullyannoyingfox

[twistedchatterbox]

“Even in madness we are meant to be”

Summary: Even in overblot they long for you, please, love them.

ft. Riddle, Leona, [Azul, Jamil in part 2] [Vil, Idia, in part 3] [Malleus in part 4] 

Tags. Romantic, not angst, Reader is NOT Yuu/MC, Lovesick Boys, GN-ish reader, Queen is a gender neutral term, established relationships, overblot, yandere-esq vibes, spoilers for literally everything and every single chapter can be expected here

wordcount: 1600+ | Masterlist & Taglist

A trial, they said, it can’t go too bad, they said. Now this shell of your sweet crush smells like gasoline ink and danger; except he burns everything other than you, including himself if the blot is anything to go by, and you wish you could have intervened but.. oh well. From his eyes, Riddle saw red one second, blot next. And from your eyes, you couldn’t even say whatever you saw was your Riddle; not with such a crazed and sadistic look in his eyes, somewhere between amused and furious by the sight of his prior dormmates attempts to escape. No, not this one. Yet even now you find yourself wavering when he looks back at you. You can’t bring yourself to say looks tend to be deceiving, not now.With trembling hands he reached out to you, deceptively weak only to pull you against his twisted form with all his might and hold you there, his left combed through your hair as he let out a feigned sigh of innocence. “Of course,” Riddle laughed –it sounded so wrong– “I knew you’d never disobey me, my trust~ You’ve always been so sensible” you wondered, was this what he was told? Not that you could keep yourself wondering for too long, as you felt him nudge something against your ear; a thornless rose, unlike himself. “We were meant to be, weren’t we?” He asked with a wicked, playful tone, it sounded poisonous yet sincere, it made your head and heart hurt. “If I am the queen of hearts, then aren’t you my king? Or would you rather be the queen of my heart instead?” Riddle said, knowing neither of the questions were wholly questions, or at all. Yet he demanded answers, silently, tilting your chin up to meet his blot induced gaze, he was so close- Yet it was the way he was whispering against your lips that made your heart stop “Well?” Riddle mumbled, close enough to touch the tips of your lips, close enough to make you feel his words on your skin, fanning his soft breath against your own. You barely held it together enough to nod, trying to ignore the way his amused expression softened all the while his grip on you tightened. Leading you somewhere, deep into the maze where the ‘troublemakers’ will not harm you when he goes back to deal them their punishments. Something about you felt off, guilty when you admired his form, maybe it was the way he securely re-tucked the thornless rose in place every few minutes, or maybe it was the way he smiled into your hair; despite the overflowing blot, or because of it, you couldn’t help the dizziness that clogged up your head- or heart. Shaking off the dizziness upon hearing his voice, you tried to meet his gaze; feeling his hand gentlemanly curl against yours, Riddle led you to the canopy in the middle of the maze where you saw two thrones that did not belong there. “For me, and the queen of my heart” he whispered, and for a moment, had it not been for the withering surroundings, you could mistake it– this blot-driven shell– for your Riddle, not a twisted cognition made out of his mind. As if you could blame him for it all- you felt as though some of it was on you, and so much of it on the woman he had to call mother. You bit your tongue, it wouldn’t do you any good to lose it, or your head. Even if it’s too late for your heart. And when his voice, deceptively soft and convincingly sweet, asked you to “Follow me, my Rose”, you complied. Not even in black roses and cracked marble could you resist the tug on your hand nor heart. Following him, and sitting on the throne next to his; unaware of his lovestruck eyes. Soon, thorns and roses encapsulated the canopy and Riddle took it as his cue to stand, only to lean down to meet your gaze and place a gentlemanly kiss on your wrist followed by one on your ring finger. Ink. it hurt your head and heart, looking at his signature sign of showing affection now covered in an impulsive rush of blot and tears. A trial, they said, it cannot be that bad, they said; yet here you sit on a rose throne, with a kiss on your wrist and ring finger. A trial over red roses is history, but what can the king of hearts, or the queen of his, do when the roses have been painted black instead? You huffed, softly to yourself as if the wilting garden had ears, “I’ll just have to see it through” you whisper to yourself, cradling the kiss-marked wrist and hand on your other. No matter how the tale was spun; the king and queen of hearts stayed together, with a newfound soft smile rising on your face, you decided that you’d take this page out of their book. “And I’ll stay here to see it through with him, through everything” and you knew you could recite this by heart.

Sand. One second it was blue, a clear day where everything the light touched looked so close, now covered by the fury of a storm.  The sand storm’s lashing swings reached far as you can see, the storm reigned over the stadium and possibly beyond; nothing was touched by light at this point, it had gotten intense enough to completely obscure everything. Yet you could never for the life of your own mistake the feeling of the culprit’s eyes burning on the back of your neck, that ever familiar feeling of Leona’s eyes scaling you up in an attempt to calculate or guess how you might react if he simply approached you now. As if you could escape. You weren’t even sure where things began or ended, unable to pinpoint anything, including at what point did this relentless storm start raging in his head. How long had he kept it from you? For too long, if it wasn’t obvious by the circumstances. You found yourself so.. frustrated. In a way, angry. Angry that he kept you in the dark as his irrationality- or more accurately, his desperation- boiled over the limit. But you knew you couldn’t do much, not now at least. You didn’t have the means to pull something reckless, not when he was so.. poorly balanced on this fragile line of danger. Sitting on the shattered pieces of his self control in the way a king would on a throne, one he would never have; a mocking reminder. Instead, what you had was the touch of a coarse hand on the back of your shoulder blades to see your unsurprising company you’d expected, now obscured in a flurry of emotions bursting at the seams with blot as its physical body. Leona. He felt cold to the touch with whatever was encasing him entirely, you wouldn’t be shocked if he was not in his own body; the ink, it smelt like gasoline. And you weren’t sure whether or not you were the flame. Physically, that was the only part of Leona present in this space next to you. You doubted that his mind was with him- Even as his cold, coarse hand rubbed circles on your hand gingerly to kindly request your attention, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that this was the boy who made a promise to you that you’d marry each other when you two grew up. The boy who promised you he’d be king. Barely hearing the ‘can I’, you decided to flip a coin mentally and nod, aware of how much sand would get in if you even tried to speak. And just like that, you were pressed against the jet black fur painted by the same thing that drove him to extremes, hoisted up for an ideal bridal carry; had it not been for everything else, you swear the hand guarding your eyes from the storm would make your heart throb so much more. Soon, maybe far too soon, you felt him shift his hold so that he could hold you securely and tight as he sat down on what felt like a makeshift throne on the hoops. Though it puzzled you when you felt rumbling in the cage of his ribs, knowing that tune somewhere in the back of your head, yet shocking nonetheless. The lyrics and melody were strumming onto the cage of his heart, his idle hand combing through your hair with ease, getting the sand out slowly and as much as he could. “I’ve always wondered,” Leona murmured, and you listened, finally freed of the sounds of storm whipping, “just why you stayed.”, and you wondered which direction he was going, despite your hunch. “I thought it was foolish at first.” He confessed, the crack of his now-smokey voice revealing a fragment of something so.. genuine. Vulnerable. His clawed hands busied themselves, the tip of his nails traced the side of your face and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear; leaning down, planting a kiss on the end of your brow. The gentle feeling of his breathing and heartbeat was the opposite of this cage made from blot and you couldn’t help but focus on the way he held onto you in the midst of falling apart. Thoroughly enjoying the way a shiver moved up your spine, Leona’s palm cupped the underside of your chin; face to face and barely apart from your lips as he whispered to emphasise his point- “But I think I’ve changed my mind. I want to keep you here, by my side.” getting closer, now whispering directly against your lips- “Let me prove myself as a king worthy of you.” -and if you happened to be the flame to set this alight- “Me and my heart- bared for your taking.”  -you might just find out that the gasoline feels too fine.

[nkogneatho]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

—cw: this is just hella angst and a lil fluffy, character death, jjk au but altered a bit, megumi is reader's son and toji and reader are couples so don't get this twisted because of the tags.

—a/n: please cry. or do inhave to cut onions??? no but fr i was sobbing hard while writing this because yaknow how much i love my man :(( please give feedbacks tho i love reading them.

your eyes were resting close. there was sense of guilt, panic and fear gnawing megumi as he sat on the stool next to your hospital bed. there were a million reasons he could've prevented this. a million. but what is supposed to happen, happens. if he rushed home quicker, you, his mother wouldn't be lying on the hospital bed right now. if only he would've been aside you, keeping you company instead of on a mission, he would've saved you from those corrupt sorcerers. but it happened. and now he was scared, praying every god to turn back time or save you somehow even when the doctor's had announced you wouldn't make it.

you fluttered your eyes open, and slowly adjusted your head to meet your son who was resting his face in his hands, probably sobbing.

"me-gumi..."

"MOM?" his voice was drenched in panic and fear but he eased it out, making sure not to startle you. "you're fine. you're completely alright. just rest and go to sleep okay?"

"since when do you lie to your mom?" he was stunned you caught his lie "i know...i know my body better than anyone else," you stated. his lips quivered in guilt. poor boy. why does he blame himself for everything?

"gumi?" he couldn't form words so he just replied with a hum. "it's not your fault. i don't blame you for anything."

"but—"

"you're the best son i could ever ask for. i know i didn't give birth to you, but not once i ever felt like you weren't my son...not on—not once did i ever feel like you weren't a part of my heart...", a tear rolled of his eye. "so don't blame yourself or you'll be insulting my heart."

"you are the best mother ever." you chuckled lightly because you remembered once he brought an essay home with the same topic. "my mom is the best mom in the world," in his crooked handwriting and drawing of you and his dad holding hands with him. oh right. dad. he knew it was his dad that he fought in shibuya when you told him when he was finally ready. he spiraled into a emotional mess to gulp everything and then your words finally cleared the blurry pictures he had in his head of his childhood.

"is there something you want me to tell your dad when i meet him?" megumi stopped breathing for a few seconds before he finally let out a sigh.

"tell papa...i am sorry." megumi and toji never really had that deep and close father-son bond. there as never a right time in their life.

"he is not mad at you megumi. we're—we're parents. we will always love our child even when they hate us. and you hated him for the right reasons." he was in the verge of sobbing. "megumi...look at me." he lifted his head to meet your eyes. "your dad loved you. he really did. and i am sure when i meet him...he will ask about you first."

"promise me you'll be my mom again in the next life?" he offered his pinky.

"i promise." you entagled your pinky with his.

"i love you mom." you smiled. you didn't say it back. you didn't need to. he knew that you loved him so much.

megumi gently took your hand resting on the hospital mattress and tucked it between his palms. he was warm. or maybe it was your blood running cold. colder and colder till you shut off your eyes, the smile disappearing as your muscles relaxed and heart gave up. megumi's eyes lost inq containing the river of tears and they finally rolled down.

*sounds of waves*

you opened your eyes to bright blue sky mirroring on the ocean, the waves emerging and lacing your feet, the sand tickling your toes. you looked around to find something else but it was all just...beach. till your eyes fell on someone they've been starving to see for years. your husband. the love of your life was right in front of you.

toji smiled and you exhaled in relief, but the exhale bought the years of pent up pain appear on your face, making tears fall constantly.

"i waited for so long, baby." god, his voice. you missed it so much.

you ran. you ran till you were in the arms of your lover, and toji embraced you like he would never let go. "i am here." you cried and he did too. his lips pressed against yours so tightly. he stopped to look at you and ponder at your beautiful face. a face everyday that he tried not to forget. he never could but now you were here finally.

"how's megumi?"

"that idiot. always blaming himself. did you mention how shitty i was?"

"he said "tell papa i am sorry, ha."

toji laughed.

"i did. but he still loves you." you both thought it was funny. "he's your son after all. doesn't show it, but he's stubborn like you inside."

"i am not stubborn."

"yes you are. you got yourself killed even when i told you not to. you left me alone to survive in a world without you even when i told you don't. do you know how hard it was everyday to live without you, toji?" your words getting a little unclear towards the end as you sobbed and yelled.

toji hugged you once again. "i am sorry."

"you should be!"

"i know." he kissed your forehead. "why don't you tell me what happened all these years while we take a walk on a beach?" your puppy eyes peered up at him. "we have forever now."