#hoping it doesn’t flop when I post it </3

[prinzrupprecht]

The Competition (part 3)

I’ll be posting To Live or Die chapter 5 tomorrow and then continuing part 3 of the ‘when someone else gives you gifts’ in the following day or two with Okita in it this time.

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Okita Souji x fem!reader

Synopsis: A few weeks had passed and you weren’t as bad as you expected to be compared to them. You enjoyed everyone’s company and felt relieved that they were nice to you. Everyone opened up to you except for one person— Okita. Even when he helps you, he still was aloof around you which was unfortunate. He doesn’t talk about himself like how the others do. Even though Kondo was mainly the instructor and boss, Souji wanted to help you in other aspects such as your speed and sword skills.

TW: none this part!

WC: 1723

You were suddenly beaten down hard from the force of Okita’s bokken clashing with yours causing you to fall backwards. “Oops, sorry about that!” Souji stepped back and gave you a heartfelt laugh. He has been trying to be gentle with you. You could tell the level from his attack power and yours is too big of a gap. He sometimes can’t help with his overwhelming speed and power in the moment when he spars with you or others.

It’s been a few weeks with them and you enjoyed everyone’s company and time. You were unsure how they felt about you. The dojo was a mess normally and you took over Kondo’s cooking in a nice way to give him a “break” when in reality, you couldn’t eat the inedible food he serves to everyone.

“Oi! Weird girl! You’re cooking for us again, right?” Hijikata draped an arm over your shoulder. He quickly pulled away from him.

“Stop calling me that, and ya I can cook something later if Kondo is okay with that.” With a quick huff, you noticed that Okita wasn’t anyone in sight.

“Well, whatever. I’m starving…” Hijikata flopped on the floor and Nagakura went over to check on him. Kondo was talking to one of the higher officials from what seemed like to be the military centre. Was he still trying to be a Kenjutsu professor there? You went over to dust the floor from all the training from earlier and get water from the well from outside.

Your eyes found Souji playing and laughing with a few of the kids who always came around when they were bored. What was this feeling that tugged at your heart? You remember them coming around a few times always asking if Souji was around. Every day you learn something new about him. He liked kids?

“Kondo-san is looking for you.” Abiru stepped outside and noticed your focus was on something else.

“Oh, I’ll find him then.” You were embarrassed and thankful Abiru didn’t question why you were watching Souji. It was odd but your fascination for him only grew over time and even before you met him.

You walked over to Kondo’s room and saw him reading a book and drinking tea. “You needed me?” You stopped by the door and he nodded.

“I noticed your progress is getting better. I hope Souji hasn’t been too hard on you the past few weeks.” He grinned as if he was proud of you. You had barely met the man but this brought you some joy.

“Ya… I guess. He’s been great! I’m just curious how he is the strongest for someone… his size?” your question made Kondo laugh.

“He just is, ever since I took him in.” Kondo stopped himself from mentioning how Okita is a demon child which makes him different from the others. Souji can’t control his battle instinct which could lead to him hurting others by accident. Kondo knew that and still looked after him. You admired this side of Kondo for being caring for him.

“You— You raised him?” you quietly asked. Kondo always kept his grin and kind features.

“It’s a long and painful story,” Kondo began while taking another sip of his tea.

“he was abandoned by his sister when he was nine after he protected themselves from a few ronin. I happened to see the incident and decided to take him in and become a disciple here. I wouldn’t bring any of this up to him, he may look tough but he’s a very kind person.” Kondo told you this. You had no idea he suffered from abandonment as a child. He seemed very distant from the others at times, but the next moment he would be fooling around with some of them. Maybe his past doesn't bother him?

“Of course, I had no idea. He has helped me a lot with my training. So as a few of the others…” you muttered.

You had assumed Kondo was checking in on how you were liking his dojo. Of course, you liked it and preferred it over your other dojo.

-

Over the next few days at the Shieikan dojo, you still practiced the Tennin rishin-ryu style barely getting the hang of it. Souji was busy or not around so you’ve been alone most of the time despite you could’ve sparred with Hijikata or Nagakura when they asked.

“You’ve gotten a lot better since the time you arrived here!” Someone clapped behind you. Okita was in his casual green kimono. You wondered how long was he watching you swing the bokken for. It didn’t matter, you could never be in the same league as him anyway. Was it even a competition still?

“Ya… I think I’m going to take a break.” You put the bokken away and proceeded to walk inside where some of the members were exhausted from their training. Kondo had cooked ahead of time but you were too late to offer, seems like he wasn’t reading from your cooking recipes.

“Not this garbage again…” Hijikata stuffed a handful of uncooked rice into his mouth.

“Shut up before you upset Souji if you make fun of Kondo’s cooking again,” Abiru looked worried but Hijikata shrugged like he didn’t care if he took another beating from him.

“Hey hey! No need to get upset,” you mumbled but all you received was glares from some of them. Souji asked you to sit with him outside which was kind of surprising. Everyone was taking a break it seems and were busy again arguing with one another and Yamanami putting sense into them like usual.

You walked back outside and sat down next to Souji on the porch as you drank some herbal tea in silence while glancing over to see him petting a black cat. “Do you normally take care of them?” You broke the silence.

“Huh? Oh! Ya, I do.” He quickly grabbed your hand to pet the ball of fur on his lap. You thought it was cute how he was such an animal lover. The cat was purring loudly and liked being scratched. How many strays were there? 10? 15? They keep on multiplying and Souji refuses to let them starve. He and Kondo would sometimes give whatever leftovers to them.

“See, she likes you.” he said but before you know it a few more kittens popped out from under the porch. They seemed a bit skittish around you but not with him. He didn’t look at you as he went to pick one of them up. This was another reason you shouldn’t judge someone based off what rumours say.

“My previous dojo had a few cats but they wouldn’t let anyone come up to them… I’m glad you’re someone they can trust.” You tried to give a cheeky smile. He was happy to hear that he was someone they could trust. Yet, he still was saddened from what Kondo told him of your dojo in private when he asked. You were also private and kept your past in the past.

“What was it like with your dojo? If you don’t mind telling me,” he sat back next to you putting one of the kittens in your lap.

You smiled and were somewhat surprised that he wanted to know about your previous dojo. “I didn’t really choose to be a part of them. My parents disappeared when I was young. I can barely even remember their faces since it’s been so many years. I was found by the dojo owner of the Tamiya-ryu and my fighting instinct is why I was made a disciple there.” You couldn’t help but remember all the memories from that dojo. The members treated you as a nobody and acted like they held higher authority over you.

“They really picked a lot of fights with us,” Souji softly chuckles but he wasn’t upset or mad about it. You wondered why they did, you only heard from the few members as to why they tried to attack Kondo’s dojo was because of ego?

“I’m sorry they did that…” you muttered in embarrassment. They put the entire dojo to shame including you.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you left them. They seemed weak and you’re not.” His words lightened your mood and brought a smile to your face. He was always nice to you, which made your heart stutter a bit. Just as you were going to say something else, Kondo walked outside to where you two were.

“It seems you two are getting along?” he raised a suspicious brow but Souji just smiled and nodded. Kondo had never seen Souji bond with anyone like this. He cared for his friends and took his training seriously, but friendly conversations with someone were quite rare. Souji enjoyed your company and didn’t act aloof around you as he used to. He preferred his space a lot of times when the others were fighting or arguing, Souji didn't really get involved in their shenanigans and preferred being outside in the company of cats.

“Ya of course! Why wouldn’t we be?” you awkwardly laughed before standing up and running back inside.

“I see,” Kondo didn’t pressure Souji to say anything about what you two were talking about.

Kondo thought it was interesting how you jumped from his interruption and quickly left. Kondo looked down at Souji who was grinning at nothing in particular. It was nice that someone who shares a similar past with him is getting along despite you were from another dojo.

Souji normally kept quiet while watching his friends spar against each other. Whenever they ask him to spar, it normally ends within a few seconds. Even sneak attacks don’t work on Souji, but Nagakura would still try from time again even though he gets knocked out usually from Souji’s quick reflexes.

Kondo grimaced and still never judged you for being coming from a shitty dojo. Even Souji was from another dojo as well but was kicked out for hurting everyone on accident. Kondo was an observer and could tell that Souji in the past few weeks was particularly growing fond of you because of a lot of things. Your sword skills and kind personality were one.

However, Kondo would eventually need to have that talk with him even if his suspicions were wrong.

Note: posting this before the new chapter leaks drop because I know imma be depressed for a while. Part 4 will be the final to this. I just love and enjoy writing AUs instead of following direct canon events and stories.

[memchiix]

Im currently like 9-10 hours into working on an artwork

It took me 6 hours just to get the sketch and lineart done and i’m only partially done the rendering. I haven’t even gotten to the background.

send help it normally doesn’t take THIS long

[blkkizzat]

⋆༺𓆩𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙚𝙣 𓆪༻⋆

18+ Only - Minors DNI Kinks: Boob job, Riding, Edging, Sadism/Darcryphilla, Overstimulation, Double Penetration/Cockwarming A/N: So I am a flop and I went out this weekend and now I have homework to do so I couldn't finish my first Kinktober fic on time but hopefully by this Weds! I did want to post SOMETHING for the 1st day of Kinktober so I hope this suffices! This isn't officially apart of my Kinktober Thrilling Ghouls & Smooth Criminals but will add this to the bottom of the list as a bonus! WK: 2.1k Song Inspo: Monster - Lady Gaga (slightly) Slightly black fem coded but no descriptors

Edit - 11/1: The Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK men is now up as a part 2!

Enjoy!

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Gojo: Tittyfucking

He might be one of the most powerful sorcerers ever and fight curses more terrifying than anything a Hollywood writer can imagine but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t going to scream like a bitch at the tinniest jump scare.  

You watch horror movies with your boyfriend Gojo so he can comfort you but you end up being the one holding on to him.

You suspect at times though he plays it up a bit, just so he can lay his head on your soft tits and rub his face in between them when a “scary part” comes on.

Your suspicions are confirmed when his hands slip up your shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your tits.

“Aw come, on babe let me just play with them a little– they’re like stress balls.” This always results in him somehow convincing you to let him straddle you. Gojo is placing his already-dripping-and-hard cock between your tits even before half the movie is over. “Aw, come on pretty girl, I’m so close! Open up that tight little mouth for me wide like you scream when a scary part comes on.” He groans out as he fucks himself between your soft tiddies. “You mean the way you scream Satoru!?” you retort rolling your eyes.  Clearly you haven't learned much Gojo thinks. Your slick mouth gets you into trouble frequently with him and you are quickly silenced when he reaches back and shoves 3 long fingers in your dripping cunt. Your pussy tightens as his fingers continue to bully themselves deeper thrusting in time with his hips into your breasts. AHHH! SHIIIIIIIT TORU, F-FUCK! “No sweet girl, I mean the way you screamed just now.” Gojo says smugly taking advantage of your scream to bust ropes of his hot seed on your tongue.

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Nanami: Riding

Nanami loves to do things you like to do to make you happy. He even will sit through one of your trashy horror movies without complaint.  

Although he might end up reading a novel or the paper after 15-20 minutes, he will never miss a chance to give you reassuring kisses to the temple or a rub on your lower back whenever you get scared. 

However you can’t watch horror movies with him because you are actually the one always distracted by him.

The way his handsome face looks utterly uninterested in the movie other than an arched brow on occasion but still is still sitting here for you and even makes sure to take care of you is too sexy to you.

So sexy you slowly become less interested in whatever the hell you were watching and more needy for him to pay attention to you. 

This always results with you bouncing in his lap midway through. “What about your monster movie Y/N?” Nanami questions you amused. His voice has an air teasing concern. Your mouth goes slack as drool and moans spill from your lips, you can’t form a reply. You just lean to bury your head into his neck wrapping your arms around him holding on. When you tire yourself like this, Nanami assists in you riding him as his hands grip your soft waist. He brings you up to his tip almost pulling out of you completely before he forcibly drives you further back down onto his dick. You bottom out on him every time your hips come down on his lap, you’re practically screaming at this point. “Nothing more monstrous than Daddy’s cock stretching this tight cunt full, isn't that right doll?” Nanami coos in your ear.

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Toji: Edging 

Yeah you’ve just gotten to the point where you don’t even put on a movie to watch when Toji is over. 

His attention span for it is zero as nothing scares his ass ever so the opening credits aren’t even over before he already has his hand down your pants.

Toji lazily plays with your clit and teases your pussy with his fingers while you try and fail miserably to ignore him enough to watch your movie. 

You pouted at him as you really wanted to watch your favorite horror movie tonight!

However by the 20 minute mark you are now begging him to let you come.  

“Nah, baby see this is the good part.” Toji says, smirking into the back of your neck. Toji has not a single fucking clue what’s happening in the movie he just wants to teach you a lesson.  He sucks on the back of your neck hard enough to leave a mark, making you moan. However, you are still left unsatisfied. Just when you think the burning between your legs will consume you he resumes digging his thick fingers into your guts. Toji knows your insides so well he knows how your pussy feels the moment before your body will release sweet toe-curling-bliss and his hands come to a complete stop again. “Daddy, Puh-leaseee!” You beg with tears in your eyes as you lean your head back to pout at him. You grab the hand in your cunt to try to force him to move again to no avail. “Not a chance, brat. You wanted to watch this shitty ass movie so bad. So we are going to watch the entire fucking thing before I let you come Y/N.” "What are we even watching– " Toji grabs the remote and the overlay pops up. "Oh Alien? Yeah, you picked a long one this time slut, buckle up."

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Choso: Overstimulation

Choso’s edgy emo ass is more than happy to watch horror movies with you. 

However due to his curse abilities, Choso is constantly pointing out the technical feasibility of the movie so much it ruins it for you. 

Don't let it be a slasher movie as Choso is non-stop critiquing “That blood spray pattern isn’t realistic” and “Did you know you could lose up to 40% of your blood?” 

You end up being so annoyed with your forensic encyclopedia boyfriend you grab his face to kiss him in order to stop his ranting.

Choso ends up repentant as the death painter comes to the realization he forgot himself again and ends up spoiling yet another scary movie for you.

Choso hates upsetting his princess so he always ends up trying to make it up to you. Truly, just shutting the hell up and watching the movie would be enough for you. Yet that wasn’t good enough repentance for Choso and as a result you ended up face down on the sofa while he ate you out from the back.  A true munch to the core this man was a messy eater. Tongue, lips, nose all up in your cunt. Slurping, lapping, nibbling– Choso kept his face in your pussy gobbling up your juices like he hadn’t consumed any liquid in days. He once remarked your pussy tasted more refreshing than water. You would wonder when the man even took time for a breath if he didn’t have you squirting to the point of mind numbing overstimulation, your legs shaking and chest heaving. “Keep those hips up Y/N baby, I’m not done apologizing.”   He slaps your ass and is so transfixed by how your pussy dribbles out a lil more squirt he does it again, returning his mouth to your cunt to suck out more fluids.  “FuckFuck I- F-uck… I f-forgive you C-Choso damnit -OH!,” you babbled and came on his tongue again for the umpteenth time that night.  "That's it baby, keep being messy on my face yeah? Let me show that nasty lil slit how sorry I am, 'kay?" Completely pussy drunk Choso sounded deranged. This man was going to completely dehydrate you before the night was over. 

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Geto: Sadism/Darcryphilla 

Geto is probably the easiest one to watch horror movies with by far. He actually is amused by them and how bad they all are.

He will let you lay reclined on him and run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly giving you a scalp massage.

The big problem here though is that your squeals and yelps of fear make his dick throb.

Even better if you get so scared there's tears that start falling. He wont be able to stop his hard dick from straining against the fabric of his pants.

Geto loves to hear you cry out so much that if the movie isn’t scary enough he had been so inclined on occasion to release a relatively harmless, yet gruesome looking, curse to pop up behind the TV. He would wait for a suspenseful part to really give you a fright and start the waterworks.

Although as much as he loves the sound of your cries there’s a sound he loves even more.

“F-Fuck, you hear her princess?” Geto is ruthless when he is pussydrunk and he makes you hold your legs wider for better access as he roughly splits open your cunt in a mating press.  Your pussy is a gooey mess as you cream around him from what has to be the 5th time that night. In your own cockdrunk stupor you wonder how long he has been pumping into you and filling you up now.  Is the movie over?  But you can’t see anything as his long hair and dark robes dangle open around you. You also can’t hear anything except for the obscene squelch of fluids gushing out of your cunt. All you can do is hold your legs and take Geto’s assault on your body until he had his fill of you. “Sugu–” you sobbed in protest but he cut you off. “Shhh, Y/N quiet while she’s talking to me–” He reaches down grabbing your soaked and discarded panties before balling them up. Geto pushed them into your mouth, muffling your cries as thick tears seeped down your face.  “Awe, baby I love you… but I only want to hear from her right now. Shit, this filthy pussy is a real scream queen.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Sukuna: Double Penetration/Cockwarming

Yeah he is straight up the worst to watch with. 

He will most definitely ridicule you and make you feel like an idiot when you ask him to watch a scary movie of all things with you. 

“Oh my ditzy lil’ slut wants to see something scary?” No, you remind him you do NOT want to find some random sorcerers just to see just how quickly and in how many different ways his Malevolent Shrine domain could kill someone.

If you pout enough though he eventually relent. On his terms.

Sukuna lets you know if you get what you want, he gets what he wants too.

What does Sukuna want? He wants you double stuffed and dumb on his cocks, of course. Your cunt and your ass are both stretched to their limits from his huge twin cocks in his True Form. Sukuna tells you mockingly long as you kept sitting nice ‘n pretty for him, he would watch the movie with you. “Hmmmrghhhh”, you moan as your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles. It’s hard to even breathe when you are this full of him. You feel as if his dicks are reaching up into your throat as you choke for air. Winded from just sitting on him, the gravity alone had you cockdrunk on him almost instantly as you felt his four hands everywhere along your body. You gasp out loud when you hear him laugh and the hardy vibrations from his chest travel straight into your pussy. You clench and cream around his cocks. Not even his huge cocks could plug you up enough to keep from dripping a big giant wet spot onto your sofa that he definitely wont be helping you clean up later. “HA! Brat, you see that fucking loser who cried ‘I’ll never leave you’ then his head flew off two seconds later? What a dumbfuck.”  Scary movies were like comedies to The King of Curses.  He slaps your thigh for emphasis. Sukuna is both equally entertained by how stupid the movies humans called 'horror' are as well as you trying to keep from blacking out on his cocks. An hour in, you were doing so well he smirked. “Brat!” Sukuna growled when you didn’t answer him. You were supposed to be watching the fucking movie.  “Come on slut, pay attention" he taps your cheek (lighter than you expect) as you gurgle back in response, completely gone. "Don't cry so hard for me to watch next time brat if y'er gonna tap out like this just from sitting on some cocks.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: Reblog or comment and tell me which JJK man you'd watch with. Likes are appreciated as well!

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

[liliavanrougelover]

Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm?

Summary: Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm and how would they react to it?

Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)

Warnings: none(?) (please correct me if I'm wrong)

A/N: I'm working on the Riddle SMAU, but it's taking longer than I expected. Enjoy these silly head cannons while you wait.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Yes and he’s grateful for it. His mother made him wake himself up. She didn’t allow him to get an alarm clock and just expected him to wake up, and that’s not exactly an easy thing to do. While he’s happy, he is used to waking up earlier than you. He probably gets up at 5:30- 6 am, I could never. He would either set up an alarm on his phone or ask if you could set one on your phone. If you set one for him on your phone, he would be grateful, but if you didn’t, he would understand. On the mornings where he wants to sleep in, he would turn off his alarm and let yours wake him up.

Trey Clover:

Yes. He would wake up to your alarm, but he doesn’t. Why? Because he has his own alarm. His alarm is set to the same time as yours because he’s not willing to get up at the crack of dawn. If you sleep through your alarm, he’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed. He’ll make sure he knows what you like for breakfast and he’ll make sure to make it perfect for you. He likes making breakfast for you so much that you may find your alarm has been silenced.

Cater Diamond:

Yes and it upsets him. He groans, flops himself on top of you and tells you to turn it off. If you do, he’ll nuzzle into you and fall back asleep. If you don’t he’ll climb over you and turn it off himself. If you want him to wake up, you’ll have to wake him up yourself. He has made a few magicam posts about your alarm. “Their alarm is the only thing I dislike about them.” -The first post Cater made when you first slept over. He tells you to turn the sound down or you’re never sleeping over again. The ideal volume is none. He’s asking you to delete it.

Ace Trappola:

It takes at least 3 alarms to wake him up and if you have that, he’ll be upset. He doesn’t like waking up and when he wakes up from an alarm? He’s not happy. He’ll reach over you and try to turn your alarm off while sleepily complaining. You can’t even understand what he’s saying because his words are all slurred and quiet. Once he’s fully awake, he’ll make complaints that you can understand.

Deuce Spade:

It takes 2 alarms to wake him and he’d be glad if you had that. He’s slept in more than he likes to admit so he’s very glad that your alarms wake him up. He’ll be a bit confused at first and ask you what that noise is. You’ll have to remind him to get out of bed or he’ll just sit there trying not to fall asleep again. He’s happy your alarms wake him up and he lets you know.

Leona Kingscholar:

It takes 5 alarms to wake him up and he hopes to the sevens you don’t have that much. If you do have that many alarms, he’ll be pissed. He’ll straight up tell you to delete it. He’ll make you delete it. If you don’t then he’ll send you back to your dorm. If you’re really adamant about waking up, he’ll get Ruggie to wake you up.

Ruggie Bucchi:

It helps him wake up. He’s used to waking up early to get him and his grandma breakfast so he naturally wakes up early. If your alarm is natural volume (not too loud, not too quiet) he’s glad that it helps him. If it’s loud, it’ll scare him. He grew up in a pretty cut-throat environment and he’s used to something trying to attack him. Please, turn your alarm down for him. If it helps you wake up, he’ll wake you up himself. Just please turn it down or turn it off. His poor heart can’t take it.

Jack Howl:

He wakes up earlier than you do. The first thing he does when he wakes up is go for a jog so he doesn’t hear your alarm. He doesn’t even know you have one. When he gets back after his jog and you’re still asleep, he’ll wake you up and offer to make you breakfast. It’s just bland cereal and milk though so if that’s not what you like, make your own.

Azul Ashengrotto:

He wakes up early. It’s what a good business person does. He’s very tired when he does though. He’s groggy and he’s trying to keep his eyes open. But, you see, he grew up in the Coral Sea. The Coral Sea is known to be a very dangerous place. Jade has said that it’s very cut-throat, so Azul has gotten attacked (probably) more than once. He hears your alarm and is sent into a full blown panic. He’s fully awake now. He shakes you awake and tells you that something’s attacking. You have to turn off your alarm and explain it to him. He eventually gets used to it. Remember to be patient with him when he wakes you up the moment your alarm goes off.

Jade Leech:

Jade has his own alarm. He wakes up really early but is still groggy. He’s thankful to have your alarm wake him up as well. He would wake up from his alarm and just kinda sit up in bed and stare at the wall, and then your alarm goes off and he finally gets out of bed. He’s especially grateful if you wake up from your alarm so he has someone to talk to while getting ready. (And he totally won’t convince you to wake up Floyd for him /s).

Floyd Leech:

Oh no. You need a new phone. The alarm goes off and Floyd lunges at it and crushes your phone. And when you get mad at him, he blames you. He tells you that you should’ve turned it off before it woke him up (Like he didn’t destroy it the second it went off). He’ll buy you a new phone if you can make him feel better after being woken up like that. Maybe turn off your alarm when you sleep over again.

Kalim Al-Asim:

He doesn’t have an alarm. He has people to wake him up so he never needed an alarm. He’ll wake up when your alarm goes off and thinks someone’s calling you. He’ll just nuzzle into your arm and murmur about someone calling you. When you tell him it’s your alarm, he’s confused. He thought everyone got woken up by other people. Whenever he hears your alarm go off, he hurries to turn it off so he can continue cuddling with you.

Jamil Viper:

He has his own alarm, but sometimes it’s best if he doesn’t wake up to it. His alarm goes off super early, like 5 am early. With how much he does, he’ll sometimes sleep through it. The first time you slept over, he slept through his alarm, but woke up to yours and he assumes someone changed the time his alarm goes off. Even though he claims that he hates sleeping through his alarm, sometimes he’ll turn it off before going to bed so he can wake up with you.

Vil Schoenheit:

He also has an alarm that goes off earlier than yours. He’ll be in his bathroom doing early morning skincare when he hears your alarm go off. He waits a few minutes before returning to see if you woke up. If you didn’t, he’ll wake you up and tell you that you should wake up the moment your alarm goes off. If you did, he’ll ask how you slept and tell you to brush your teeth, take a shower, etc. etc. (If your alarm is super loud, he’ll ask about your mental health).

Rook Hunt:

Rook is the lightest sleeper in the school. It’s his hunting instincts. In fact, if you asked him, he’d say he never truly feels like he’s asleep (He says it more theatrically). So, technically, no. Your alarm doesn’t wake him up, because he wasn’t asleep. He’ll tell you how beautiful your alarm sounds. It could be set to a tornado warning sound and he’ll still think it’s beautiful (just like you). If you don’t wake up from your alarm, he’ll continue to lay in bed with you. You don’t move, he won’t move.

Epel Felmier:

Your alarm wakes him up and he’s grumpy. It doesn’t matter what wakes him up, he’ll be grumpy. He needs coffee. He wakes up and just curls himself around you. If you insist on getting up, he insists you bring him coffee. If you make him get up, he’ll groan and complain, but get up anyway.

Idia Shroud:

He has his own alarm. He calls it “Ortho”. He’s used to Ortho coming and waking him up, so when your alarm goes off, and wakes him up, he’s confused. Was that his phone? Is someone calling him? Oh sevens, he hopes not. When he realizes it’s your alarm, he calms down. He had a mini panic attack when he thought someone was calling him. If you didn’t wake up from it, he just pokes you and if that doesn’t wake you up, he just lays back down.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus doesn’t know what an alarm is. Your alarm goes off and he shoots up in bed ready to attack whatever broke in (At least it woke him up?). You just have to sleepily explain what an alarm is. Every morning he forgets and still thinks something or someone broke in. Give him a bit of time to let it sink in. He’ll get used to it, eventually.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia has his own alarm. Five to be exact. None of them wake him up. So, why would your alarm be any different? Lilia is a heavy sleeper, especially if he spent the night playing video games. The only way to make sure he gets up is to drag him out of bed. He thanks you for getting him up and offers to make you breakfast as a “thank you”.

Silver Vanrouge:

It doesn’t wake him up. His own alarms don’t wake him and neither does yours. I mean, a loud alarm would wake him, but he’d also rush to grab his sword because he thinks someone’s attacking. You’re gonna have to wake him yourself. Just shake him awake and tell him to wake up. He apologizes for making you wake him up, and it’s best to just accept it. You can try and tell him it isn’t his fault, but he’ll keep insisting until you “forgive” him (there's nothing to forgive).

Sebek Zigvolt:

He wakes up the moment it goes off. He's up and ready to fight. He looks at your phone, sees that it’s an alarm and asks what’s happening. Just like with Malleus, you have to explain what an alarm is. He doesn’t approve. What do you mean you can’t wake up on your own accord? He thought that was just Silver. He offers to wake you up in place of your alarm. The offer is not as nice as it sounds. He essentially yells in your ear to wake up. The alarm is better.

[earthtooz]

x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+ﾟ

in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.

warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.

a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!

“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.

“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 

“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.

“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”

Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”

“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”

You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.

“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”

“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”

Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 

Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.

“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”

“Really?”

“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”

She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.

“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”

“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”

“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”

“Will he fly away too?”

“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”

She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.

“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”

Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.

“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”

“Oh? What’d she say?”

Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”

“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”

“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”

His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.

“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”

Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.

“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”

“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”

“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“

“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”

“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”

“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 

He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 

Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.

“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 

Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 

You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.

Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”

“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[queenie-the-court-jester]

hiii!! still getting used to messaging bloggers, so i apologize if i seem rude 😭😭 im a lil shy…

just wanted to say i LOVE your writing and each of your yanderes! im literally obsessed each time you post and love each one of your OCs. 🥺🥺🫶 the amount of depth of details you put into them blows me away!! \(^ヮ^)/ you are one of my absolute fav blogs and for once a blogger that doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable to contact ❤️❤️

i hope you don’t mind me asking for more content of the farm fics!! i would love to see more big daddy and mrs béne, or the koi quintuplets! maybe how they would be if reader fell in love with them or confessed to them? feel free to ignore or take your time; personal matters come first!! ♡

can i be 🍧 anon?

Even sweeter than honey

a/n: awww shucks.. you got me blushing up a storm 🍧😊 also I'm guessing you already know how horny I make my ocs, so this'll be no excuse 😭🌺

Tw: none I think, just pure fluff and horny idiots

tancho: he would want to belly flop with joy! When you finally say yes to his insistent need to mate with you, he'll nearly faint from all the blood pumping into his nerves. Expect lots of nosebleeds during the consummation

kiko: she's the more quiet one out of the five, giving you a happy smile and leading you a bit far away from the little dock. Where you can both mate peacefully with no surprise guests p.s. it doesn't work

hime: her little fin ears start wiggling with joy as she drags you into water, holding you and making you float along with her as she smothers you with her love. Making Happy clicking sounds, she splashes any of her siblings that get too close

Tsu: they clap their hands in joy and sit themselves up on the little dock next to you. Copying what they saw the other land dwellers do. Holding your hand, kissing your lips, and they may or may not do it Infront of their siblings. Giving the 4 a shit eating grin as they claim you

Koromo: who let this horny bastard out of the underwater cave. As soon as you agree he's dragging you into the water and into their cave. Already tugging off your clothes and ravaging your neck with kisses. Impatient to get you nice and full with his eggs

Mr's bené and big daddy: they're elated! Mr's bené Dragging you to the barn with big daddy close behind. If you're afab, she'll hold you close with your back pressing against her lactating tits, all while big daddy pounds into you. If you're amab, surely you can wait 3 more months until the baby is born? Meanwhile,you can get a head start with big daddy

[lunaviee]

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.

[avatarkv]

A passage from Tuk-Tuk’s diary.

now playing: fourth of july, sufjan stevens. (for the feels!)

It has been 972 days since Neteyam died— or so I think. I’m not that good in counting, so I carve sticks on the walls of our house so I can remember. Sa’nok isn’t really fond of it. She says I’m dirtying the hut and forbids me to do it again. I don’t know how to tell her that it’s a way for me to remember without saying my brother’s name because if I do, sa’nok cries.

I don’t like when mama cries. and she cries all the time.

In the dead of night, when everyone is asleep and snoring, she cries. I hear her call for Eywa— but most of the time, she calls for Neteyam and I don’t know how to remind her that he isn’t here anymore. So I let her.

She cries when she makes meals and she thinks she’s alone. Ma forgets that I don’t have that many friends here at the reef yet, so I always stay close to home. I hug her tight. Sometimes, she wraps her arms around me too, but most of the time, she stares at nothing and I’m left to dry her tears myself. I think she gets embarrassed when I see her, so I lie and say I’m off to play with Kiri by the shore— but in truth, I stay behind, just in case she needs someone.

Sa’nok always makes Neteyam’s favorite and everyone always makes room for him at the table. I don’t know how to remind them that he’s not here to eat anymore, so I leave the empty plate alone.

Lo’ak cries too. He thinks he’s being sneaky when he takes too long to look for his things, but really, he just looks down because he doesn’t want anyone to see. Lo’ak doesn’t play with me anymore; he trains a lot more and he’s tougher— he’s like you now. I wonder if he’d swim with me in our Ilus again, but he always drifts off to see payakan, so I don’t think he will.

He’s more easily frustrated. Hurts himself when he misses the fish while hunting or when his Ilu is being difficult. I think he’s being too hard on himself, so I try to keep an eye on him. I don’t want to lose another brother— I promise I’ll look over him this time, great mother, just don’t take him away like you did with Neteyam.

Besides, he also has Tsireya. I think he’s in good hands.

I don’t mind that everyone cries. I cry all the time!

I hurt myself once when I was looking for shells. I scraped my elbow from the nearby rocks and it bled a little— it stung, but then I remember how Neteyam would pick me up and tell me that I was the strongest; that wounds like these wouldn’t last. He said he’d protect me as long as he’s near. Now that he’s gone, I think I have to look over myself now.

I rubbed the bleeding scratch until it became a red patch. As long as it hurt, I would hear him. As long as it hurt, I could feel my brother’s tight embrace.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who doesn’t see him. Everyone seems to carry on with their life with hints of him; Lo’ak would carry two bows (his and neteyam’s) Mama has his necklace and Kiri uses his hair beads. I wish I had something of him— but then I look around, and I see him everywhere.

His empty hammock, his favorite wooden bowl, and his songcord.

I look for you everywhere, brother, and I see you. I miss you so bad and I can’t talk about it, because if I do, everyone gets sad. Everyone misses Neteyam.

I think it will never get better. I think everyone will cry from now on.

☆ mauve here! posting something light before eventually carrying on with my series and stuff. just something to gather everyone's attention again! i fear i am flopping </3 anyway, hope everyone enjoys this mini series of tuk! i love her so much.

tags: @aonungsmate

[mint-yooxgi]

{3} - Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 9,085

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two

You were wrong.

Not only is this redcap the most infuriating fae possible, but he has no tact when it comes to handling you. Clearly, he’s never dealt with humans before, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. Every chance he gets, he’s shoving you around, pulling you harshly to your feet and snapping at you to ‘get a move on’ if you’re not moving at a quick enough pace for him.

Gone is the almost surreal atmosphere of peace the morning had brought you. Instead, as evening shifts into night, only irritation seems to fill the silence between the two of you. Whether he’s upset at himself for relating to a human or not is unbeknownst to you. All you do know is that he seems to dislike you more than he did the previous day.

“Are you done yet?” His voice cuts through the gentle sounds of the pond you’re currently bathing in.

Your head turns to stare at his back, noticing he stands a better guard than Windfel ever did. Not once did this fae turn around even to toy with you. Truly, he kept his word about being respectful about this kind of stuff, and for that, you should be grateful. Only, a creeping sense of dread begins to sink into your bones.

Slowly, you begin to make your way out of the pond, not quite feeling as refreshed as you should. The constant pounding of your heart within your chest reminds you that you’re still alive, and as you pull on the new clothes, you cannot keep your hands from shaking.

“Have you finished? I need to wrap your wound.” His arms are crossed over his chest, that much you can tell.

“I can do it myself.” Comes your somewhat sharp reply, looking around for where he put that roll of bandages he scavenged from a nearby town.

“No, you’re going to do it wrong.” He sighs, beginning to tap his foot against the ground. “I don’t want your wound getting infected again and slowing us down even further.”

Your features pull into a scowl. One which you are grateful he cannot see at the moment. You remain silent, tugging the loose shirt over your head once dry enough to do so. Only a grunt is given to acknowledge he can turn to face you, one which he seemingly immediately understands.

“Sit down.” He commands, walking over to you with another leaf filled with fresh paste in his one hand.

You comply, barely holding back your grumble of discontent. “Yes, General.”

The fae lets out a sharp breath through his nose, kneeling beside you on the ground. He says nothing as he begins to apply the paste over your now healing wound.

The cut on your leg is doing tremendously better in such a short amount of time. No longer does it crust at the edges, and the swelling has gone down significantly. There’s a small scab that rests over the deepest part of the cut, but the edges are much fainter than before, almost scar like in appearance. Sure, it still aches, but it’s nowhere near as horrendous or as infected as it once was.

Carefully, he spreads the paste over your cut. You notice his claws have retracted once more, and though he’s focussing intently on what he’s doing, he isn’t all that gentle. At one particular point, he adds a bit too much pressure to his fingers over the worst part of your cut, and you flinch.

A sharp hiss escapes you before you can stop yourself, and he removes his hand.

He says nothing as he discards of the leaf this time, reaching over to grab the roll of bandages. Wordlessly, he slides his one hand beneath your knee, tugging it upwards without warning.

Your initial response is to scold him, but given how close he is to you right now, combined with the fact that he is treating your wound, you don’t want to give him an opportunity to attack you. If he’s this good with treating them, then obviously he’s even better at causing them. Besides, there are ways he could torment you with the worst pain imaginable, all while making sure to still keep you alive.

It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. You would know.

There is no time, nor opportunity for you to be embarrassed right now. True to his word, he barely takes his eyes from your wounded leg the whole time he treats it. No roaming hands. No snide remarks, or suggestive comments about anything.

Whether he takes notice of the other scars lining your legs is unbeknownst to you, for he doesn’t comment on a single one. Instead, his brow is furrowed in concentration, his hands moving roughly around your thigh as he wraps the bandage around your wound. It’s almost as if he’s working subconsciously, letting his muscles repeat the monotonous motion of covering your wound without thinking. Almost as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder about him. What was his past like? How did he learn to treat wounds this well? Is he truly as terrifying as you’ve been led to believe?

You catch yourself, blinking a few time to clear your vision. These are not things you should concern yourself with. You need to worry about yourself, and only yourself right now.

Looking back at the fae, you notice that his eyes are glazed. Still, he stares intently down at your thigh. You can tell he’s not paying attention, for he bandages your thigh too tightly, tying it off without a second thought.

“It’s too tight.” A blunt comment which seems to snap him out of his thoughts.

“No, it’s not.” He clicks his tongue, standing back to his feet. “Quit complaining, and let’s get a move on. I’ve already wasted enough time waiting for you today.”

“Isn’t it dangerous for me to travel at night?” You remark, tugging the fresh pair of pants over your legs as he walks over to the tree line.

“Not with me, it’s not.” Comes his gruff reply as he begins to stalk deeper into the woods. “Keep up. I’m not stopping if you fall behind.”

Without another word, and with a deep sigh, you take off after him. That stem of red spider lilies you still have with you gets hastily tucked back into your pants pocket. Despite the petals wilting every day, you cling onto it. It means too much to you, and the fact that you were able to find a single stem in the wild still makes your head spin.

Your favourite flower, come to bring you home.

Surprisingly, you manage to keep pace with the fae quite well. You can tell he’s not travelling at his top speed, but the trek is still manageable, and your thigh doesn’t throb once.

Your ankle on the other hand…

Sometime over the course of the night, your foot had started going numb. Your limp has become more prominent, and with every step you take, pain shoots up your right ankle. You manage to bear it for quite a bit longer. That is, until you lose your footing, tripping over a sudden root in your path and falling to the ground with a loud thump.

An annoyed sigh greets your ears, followed by even louder stomps heading back in your direction.

“Are you that incompetent-“ A sharp intake of breath. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m always bleeding.” You push yourself upward, feeling pain shoot through your fingertips.

Oh, yes. You forgot. You cracked your nails.

Sitting yourself on the ground, you let out a sigh of your own. Gently, you go to raise your hands to your face in order to assess the damage. However, before you can get very far, two large hands envelope your own.

“You’re a walking disaster.” He clicks his tongue, studying your fingertips thoroughly.

His touch is not soft, but it’s not as rough as this morning. Still, he turns your hands in his without thought, tugging your arms lightly forward as he brings your fingertips closer to his face.

Your expression hardens, pursing your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

He says nothing, but you do notice his gaze flick upwards to your face. A moment later, and he’s letting out another sigh. “Is there anything else I should be made aware of?”

“Well, since you’re asking,” you reply smartly, pain and irritation ridding you of your normal filter. “I haven’t been able to feel my right foot for over two hours.”

He swears lowly under his breath. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were now my own personal doctor.” You snap.

A low growl greets you in response, and you freeze. With wide eyes, you meet his own.

“I would like to make it back to my home without any further setbacks.” He snarls. “Preferably with you in one piece.”

“Didn’t realize I was so important to you, General,” you tug your hands out from his grip, and surprisingly, you do not feel the sharp sting of fresh cuts adorning your skin from his claws. In fact, it looks as if he retracted them before he even started examining your hands.

A strange, yet welcomed fact which you didn’t bother to notice until now.

“You’re not.” He spits out his reply, standing back to his full height in the next second. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a bit with some supplies.”

Without waiting for a response, he takes off into the night. 

All you can hear are the sounds of the forest around you, and the faint stomping of the fae away from you as you drag yourself to rest against a tree. Finally, you feel as if you can breathe easier. 

There’s a war going on within yourself. You still want to make the general so mad that he kills you in a fit of rage, while another part of you is genuinely regretting that decision. Whether it happens or not, is still yet to be seen. At least you no longer have starvation, dehydration, and infection clouding your mind.

About an hour later, the fae returns to see you having stripped yourself of your pants. The bandage he had tied around your thigh rests to the side as you let the wound breathe, and it looks the best it has in weeks. Whatever that paste is made from has really helped, for now all that remains of the initial cut is a small scar, and a minor scab.

You notice he spares a glance at your thigh. “How’s your leg?”

Your brow quirks, but you school your features into a neutral expression almost as quickly as it comes.

“Well, I’m starting to gain feeling back in my foot.” You say, watching him carefully as he crosses the short distance between the both of you. “I told you the bandages were too tight.”

“Do you ever stop nagging?” His features twist in irritation as he crouches beside you.

Almost instantly, your breath catches, and your expression falls. Your throat bobs as you swallow thickly, averting your gaze to the side. Old memories, ones you had shoved deep down inside of you resurface, and bile rises in your throat.

“I suppose I should feel grateful for having you keep me from dying.”

“Feel whatever you want to, mortal,” he sighs, handing you a canteen of water. “I have no ties to you, and you have none to me.”

“Then, what do you call this?” Pointedly, you spare a glance down at your almost fully healed thigh, making sure to catch his gaze.

“Insurance.” He states bluntly. Not even a second later, his eyes fall shut, and he’s breathing out a long sigh. “Look, I’m getting tired of repeating myself-“

“I know.” You cut him off. “I’m useless if I can’t function properly.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.” You turn your head, jaw twitching as tears prick at your eyes.

You’ve heard it all before. Over and over for what feels like your entire life. Friends, family… all those that were supposed to love you, to care for you.

You nearly scoff.

Love. What a useless emotion. You’re not even sure it exists anymore. Though, you’re sure your parents would argue that they did even this for you out of whatever twisted love they claim to have for you.

No. They wouldn’t know love even if it hit them right in their faces. 

No one has ever loved you. No one ever will.

“We’ll rest here until you’re fully healed, and then we’ll continue the journey back to the keep.” His voice, solid and stern, pulls you out of your own thoughts. “That way there’s no excuse as to why we need to make additional stops.”

“Yes, General,” your voice is much weaker than before, barely coming out as more than a hoarse whisper. It’s as if you’ve suddenly lost the will to fight. If you ever even had it in the first place.

A grunt is all you hear from him in response. In fact, that’s all you hear from him for the rest of the morning, and as the sun begins to rise over the horizon, you fall into a deep, restless sleep.

***

It takes two full days for your wound to fully heal. Granted it only took one for the cut to become nothing more than a scar, but it was better to be safe, than sorry.

Despite the setbacks, Mingi actually feels relieved now that he knows you won’t be able to slow him down since your thigh has healed. Looking after you hasn’t been so bad, either. Your company, surprisingly enough, can actually be quite enjoyable.

There are times where you don’t seem to filter yourself as heavily as others. He enjoys those the most. You have an attitude to you that he can appreciate. An attitude which reminds himself of his younger days, before he became the seasoned general that he is now. He honestly wishes he would see it more often from you, but every time you allow yourself to snap back at him, it’s as if you expect him to hit you for it.

Not only that, but the past few times you’ve fallen asleep, you seem to be tormented by terrors unknown to him. He can hear you thrashing against the tree you rest on, whimpering into the stillness of the night as your body attempts to curl in on itself.

It bothers him, and he doesn’t understand why. 

Ever since he saw you attempting to frantically crawl away from him that day after he had slaughtered that deer, something within himself has shifted. 

Mingi has always known he’s a monster. He was born a monster. He was raised a monster. He is a monster, and he’s never for one moment denied that part of himself. Of course, he has his own moral code he lives by, but again, he doesn’t enjoy wasting his time on easy prey. 

If it’s not worth killing over, it’s not worth dying for.

Besides, no one respects him for the minor kills. He wouldn’t have gotten where he is today if he took the easy path. He has a reputation to uphold, and killing people that are not even worth his time only makes people fear him.

Fear isn’t what can drive people to be loyal. Respect can.

No one gains respect by slaughtering countless humans here. At least, in his opinion. It would be the same as targeting children. Who gains honour from tearing apart the weak and defenceless? Certainly not him. He never has, and he never will. 

There’s no valour in that.

Still, there is something about you that irritates him to no end. Every time you call him general, he wants to rip your tongue from your throat. The way he catches you looking at him from time to time makes him want to gouge your eyes from your head. Yet, there’s something about the way you’ve come to rely on him, about being able to actually take care of something in such a way instead of destroying like he’s used to. Something about the way he feels as if he can just live around you, causes his guard to weaken and start to crumble. 

A vulnerability he hasn’t felt in a long time. A vulnerability that, in actuality, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt in his entire life.

Maybe that’s why you irritate him so much.

Stupid human making him feel stupid things he’s never felt before.

The sun sets in the distance, casting a golden hue across the surrounding area. A gentle breeze cools the humid air of the day, giving way for the crisp stillness that night is sure to bring.

Still, you limp along.

Your stamina has improved since your wound has healed, and you seem to be more keenly aware of your surroundings. Enough so, that Mingi can see the familiar shine of recognition behind your eyes as the forest begins to thin up ahead. 

“Shouldn’t there-“ you swallow, panting lightly. “Shouldn’t there be a town up ahead?”

A low hum in confirmation is all you receive in response as Mingi breaks through the tree line. He pauses, waiting for you to catch up. Taking the time now, he scans over the area, no annoying pests in sight. Of course, there are the town’s other inhabitants, but at least the pain in the ass seems to be gone for the moment. If his missing scent is anything to go by, Seonghwa hasn’t been home in quite a few days.

Perhaps those small set backs were more of an advantage than Mingi thought.

“Come on,” Mingi says, leading you towards a tavern across the way. “We’ll stay here for the night. I could use a decent rest in a bed instead of on the ground for a change.”

Eager eyes follow the both of you as you cross the short distance between the woods and the tavern, and Mingi can already hear the whispers floating in the air. He knows that he’s easily recognizable, given the red band tied around his upper arm, but hearing them comment about you sets his skin prickling.

The worst part is, he doesn’t know why.

Stepping inside, the familiar smells of malt ale and other fermented substances greet his nostrils. There’s a distinct stench of body odour, and malcontent lingering in the air that irritate his nose the further into the tavern he goes. The rowdy patrons are all around, laughing and jeering amongst themselves as he steps up to the counter. 

Even though he spares a glance over his shoulder to check, he knows that you’re scurrying after him as fast as you can. You seem to be able to feel the pointed stares sent your way as Mingi discusses lodging arrangements with the owner. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Mingi watches you shift uncomfortably on your feet, curling in on yourself as loud voices reach the both of your ears.

“Isn’t that that infamous redcap general?” A loud whisper cuts through the noise of the tavern.

“What’s a human doing with him?” Another hisses, and Mingi can feel his one ear twitch.

“You think he’s claimed her?”

“I don’t see a mark.” Such a smug comment causes Mingi’s jaw to tick in irritation. 

What ever happened to minding one’s own business?

“You think we could convince him to let us have some fun with her?”

“Maybe I should give her a mark of my own-“

“Watch your tongue before you lose it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, his sharp gaze locked onto the fae that had uttered such a repulsive phrase.

A sudden silence encases the entire tavern, and even your eyes go wide. 

The comment from the general is so unexpected, it seems to even surprise him.

Mingi is acutely aware of all eyes on him now. Not even a drop of condensation falls against a single glass as he snatches the ward key from the counter. With his opposite hand, he pushes you along, only causing you to stumble forwards and towards the stairs at the back of the room.

“Don’t concern yourselves with business that is not your own.” Mingi snaps, practically shoving you up the stairs and out of sight from hungry, prying eyes. 

Eyes of which that seem to follow you all the way to the room. A fact which only serves to irritate him more, a scowl tugging at his features as he unlocks the door with the ward key. A moment later, the entrance swings open, and he’s dragging you inside.

“This was a bad idea.” He begins to pace, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I was fine the last time I passed through this town.” Your reply is much softer than he’s used to, and he spares a glance in your direction.

There you stand, still fidgeting in your spot. Your hands tug at the long sleeves of your shirt, shoulders curling in on yourself as you intently stare at the ground. Your eyes have lost that faint shine he’s come to know over the past few days, the brightness having dulled suddenly into a blank nothingness.

He bets you’re thinking about their eyes on you, and how everyone was gazing at you like you were a piece of meat. Even he can still see the way tongues ran over sharp teeth, lips curling back against fangs in malicious grins as the scents of excitement and thrill bombarded his senses.

His own lips draw back in a scowl, and he nearly growls.

“Do you understand what they were implying?” Mingi can barely keep his breathing under control as he turns to look out the window.

Claws dig into wood, fingers nearly snapping the window frame from the pressure of his grip. What only makes this worse is he doesn’t understand why those comments have set him off so much. It’s simply typical fae talk, no different than what his subordinates had said when you first showed up at the edge of their encampment.

Thinking back on it now, the thought nearly makes him snarl.

“It’s nothing I’m not used to with men-“

“They are not men.” Mingi snaps, his chest heaving as he turns to face you.

Immediately, you recoil back, mild shock on your features. That is, until you’re schooling your expression and taking a deep breath in.

“Why should it matter what they say, then?” You keep your voice low, steady. 

“It doesn’t.” His reply is quick. Too quick.

“Aren’t they your kin? Don’t you think the exact same way?” Your voice rises slightly, and the tears he can see shining in your gaze cause his chest to begin to ache.

“I have never- will never think that way.” Mingi shakes his head, fingers tangling in his locks and tugging exasperatedly at the roots. “I may not like your kind, but I don’t agree with treating them however we want to just because we can.”

His head is spinning and throbbing all at once. He feels both freezing cold and burning hot, and he cannot prevent his eyes from shifting from you to the door. His breathing, which he has always been able to master, comes in erratic pants, fangs bared as his claws scratch at his scalp.

“You had no problem with it before when it was your men saying it.”

A silence so deadly settles over the room.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi has you pinned against the wall. His arm rests over your upper chest as he looms over you, teeth bared in a snarl. Raised in the air above his head is his opposite arm, claws glinting beneath the light of the moon as he prepares to strike.

Only, the hitch in your breath pulls him back to reality.

Immediately, he stumbles away from you, staring at his hands in horror. He doesn’t register the single sob that echoes through the silence of the room like a knife, nor does he hear the frantic beating of your heart over his own racing in his ears. What he does catch, however, is the single tear that cuts a path down your cheek, and the way your trembling body collapses to the floor.

The moment you touch ground, you go limp, staring vacantly at the wall across from you.

Mingi’s hands drop to his sides, balling them into fists as he stomps over to the door. 

“I’ll be back.”

The last thing he sees before the door swings shut is you supporting yourself with your hands braced upon the floor. He doesn’t give himself time to think as he storms back downstairs and straight over to the bar, ignoring the pointed stares sent his way.

He needs time to think, to sort out the mess that is his head. Perhaps you could use this time alone, too. Besides, it’s not like you can escape the room you’re in. Only he has the key to get in, and it’s not like you can jump out of the window. The glass is too strong for you to break.

You’re trapped, just like you’ve always been since he caught up to you. Yet, for some reason, that simple thought makes his brow furrow.

He doesn’t want you to feel trapped…

Frowning down into his glass, Mingi downs his ale. A few moments later, and his glass has been refilled. What a perfect way to end the day: by drowning his sorrows in a room full of boisterous fae, drinking until even the most proper of them cannot tell up from down.

About an hour into his drinking, he senses a few other fae saddle up beside him. The scraping of the stools on the ground cuts through the noise of the tavern, and much to Mingi’s annoyance, the fae from earlier that were making comments are the ones that surround him.

“So, what brings you to town, General?” The one with muted butterfly wings on his back asks. He was the one who commented on convincing Mingi to have some fun with you.

Mingi takes another sip of his drink. “Hunt.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re with that human.” Another hums, small horns protruding from the top of his head. His skin has a slight green hue to it, and Mingi recalls the way he spoke about giving you a mark of his own. “Mustn’t have put up much of a fight, eh?”

A scowl mars Mingi’s brow, but he hides it behind the rim of his glass, downing the rest of its contents in a single shot.

“Surprised she’s not torn to shreds.” Another hums, leaning casually against the edge of the bar. He’s a bit shorter than the other two, but Mingi notes the way he bounces his one hand in the air, almost impatiently. “Or are you saving that for later?”

“Oh, you sly general, you,” the one with the horns nudges Mingi’s shoulder. “Lure the human into a false sense of security, then tear her asunder when she least expects it!”

The three fae share a laugh, fangs glinting beneath the light as their lips curl deviously in mirth.

“I thought I told you to not concern yourself with business that is not your own.” Mingi replies gruffly, slamming his now empty glass back on top of the counter.

“It’s not our fault you brought an unclaimed human into our midst.” The one leaning against the counter titters.

“Really, you should share some of the fun with the rest of us,” the winged one laughs, flicking his eyebrows in a suggestive matter.

“And what would your town’s overseer say if he could hear you now?” Mingi turns his sharp gaze towards the two fae on his right side.

If there’s one thing that Mingi can’t fault the pain in the ass for, it’s that he maintains good control over those that follow him. At least, those that reside in this town.

“Seonghwa’s not here.” The fae with the horns hums. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Mingi’s jaw twitches. These fae have clearly done this multiple times with humans before, and gotten away with it despite Seonghwa’s rule not to touch any that enter the village under his watch. Though, with that specificity, Mingi isn’t that surprised.

“Come on, General,” the one with the wings taunts. “Think of how satisfying her shrieks of terror will be.”

A flash of you scrambling away from him in terror flashes through his mind, your desperate cries ringing through his ears.

“Humans are such weak, pathetic creatures, anyways.” The one leaning on the counter rolls his eyes as Mingi stands to his feet. “It’ll probably be the only action she ever sees in her life with how ugly she is. She’ll probably be thanking us by the end of it for make her feel desirable.”

An image, soft and pure, of you tenderly gazing down at that wilting stem of spider lilies flits through his mind, and Mingi tenses. A blink, and the once peaceful scene shifts, blood splattered over your face as tears cut fresh tracks through the dirt and grime smeared over your cheeks.

“Don’t you want to feel the warmth of her blood spilling onto your hands as you bathe yourself in its crimson flow?” The fae with the horns grins maniacally. “Taste its bitter scent as it drips down your tongue?”

Mingi’s hands, which are currently clenched into fists at his sides, begin shaking.

“Come on, General,” the one that’s leaning against the bar continues, pushing himself forwards to lean into the silent redcap’s back. “Let us have our fun. We’ll take her off your hands.”

“Yeah,” The winged one smirks, eyes glinting in the light of the tavern. “Don’t you know human meat is a delicacy around here?”

“Let alone one so young, and fresh,” the horned one snickers, his grin widening as he licks his lips. “Oh, I can’t wait to tear into her-“

Blood splatters across the top of the bar, and every patron turns to see what the sudden commotion is about. Not a sound can be heard for several tense moments as realization settles over the entire room.

The horned fae can do nothing but open and close his jaw, blood spilling from his mouth as he stumbles away from the redcap across from him. Horror paints his features for a brief second before anger is taking over, watching as Mingi drops the now severed muscle in his hand, the horned fae’s tongue thudding against the floor.

“I warned you.”

Without another word, Mingi is storming outside the tavern to get some fresh air. The rest of the fae around him immediately part to let him pass, low whispers following him all the way outside. His hand clenches repeatedly, feeling disgusted by the wet warmth that covers his fingers.

Normally, Mingi would revel in the feeling. He loves the way blood coats his skin when he goes in for the kill, not to mention maiming something that annoys him. Sure, he has his morals, but that doesn’t mean he won’t put in the effort when the time calls for it.

Mingi doesn’t quite exactly know why he reacted the way he did. He put up with his men boasting about wanting to do much worse to you while back in the encampment. Yet, how three unknown fae could rile him up so easily only makes the confusion and anger he’s feeling all the more prominent.

It’s only because you’re still technically on a hunt with him. You’re not home free just yet. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has to make sure you both make it back unharmed, and that includes not letting other fae take advantage of you.

No other reason. 

None at all.

Taking a deep breath in, Mingi lets the crisp night air fill his lungs. He flicks his wrist, more blood splattering against the ground as he scowls down at his hand. His whole body is tense, and he’s surprised his teeth don’t crack from the force at which he clenches his jaw.

He should probably check on you soon. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is rest. No more dealing with this stupid shit for the moment. It’s time for him to turn his brain off.

Besides, he could use the downtime.

Heading back inside after about five more minutes, Mingi flexes his hand. The now dried blood cracks over his skin, and a feeling of unease settles inside his chest. The other three fae are nowhere to be seen, and at the way a few of the other patrons spare looks his way out of the corners of their eyes, he can tell something is off.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

***

For half an hour, you do not move from your spot. 

Your ankle throbs as you curl up on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as best as you can. A familiar position, as you find your tears quickly depleting as your entire being goes numb.

Blankly, you stare at the opposite wall. You were this close to getting him to kill you, and you don’t know if you’re more upset at yourself or him for not seeing it through.

It’s not like you trusted him, nor do you necessarily trust him in general. However, faced with the same scenario you’ve played out so many times before, all you could see was that monster covered in blood, ready to strike you down once more.

There’s a bitterness that builds within your chest, but you don’t know if it’s at yourself, or the fae. You were so close to being done with all of this. Are you that horrible at committing to something, and seeing it through, that not even a fae wants to kill you? Are you that useless that you can’t even do that right?

Taking in a shaky breath, you finally push yourself up into a sitting position. Your whole body groans in protest, muscles aching due to the position you had been laying in on the cold, hard floor. Slowly, you pull yourself to your feet, mindful of the twinge in your right ankle as you hobble over to one of the side doors.

You’re pretty sure you saw a bathroom on the way in.

Time seems to pass languidly, and much too quickly all at once. By the time you pull yourself out of the tub, you have no idea if the redcap has returned or not. You didn’t hear his telltale footsteps stomping through the room, but you’ve learned that he can be quite light on his feet when he wants to be. Who knows how much time you have left to yourself, anyways.

As you’re drying off, you can faintly hear a commotion coming from the direction of the stairs. It seems as if one of the patrons has gotten too rowdy, for all seems to still a moment later.

You shake your head, wrapping the surprisingly fluffy towel around your plush body, and limping back into the main area of the room. The redcap is nowhere in sight, but there seems to be a fresh pile of clothes laid out on the bed. There’s even a clean set of undergarments for you, and as you look closer, you realize that it’s actually your old set. Upon a thorough inspection, they appear as if brand new, washed and dried to perfection.

Such a small gesture, whether through some form of magic, or something else, causes your heart to swell. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything done for you like this, and to say it means a lot would be a tremendous understatement.

Feeling the material of your undergarments between your fingers, you let out a soft sigh through your nose. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you begin to change, managing to pull everything on quickly. There’s still a faint warmth clinging to the material of the clothes, as if they’ve been left out in the sun for too long, or have rested beside an open fire. It calms you, and breathing starts to become a little bit easier.

Standing from the bed, you can hear muffled voices begin shouting at each other from down the hallway. You figure them to be other patrons staying overnight, so you think nothing of it to walk towards the bathroom to hang your towel upon the back of the door. You’re sure you saw a little hook there before…

Just as you go to reenter the bathroom, the main door to the room swings open. You expect it to be the redcap returning from wherever it is that he went, but instead, what you see, or rather, whom, has you freezing right in your tracks.

Three unfamiliar fae stand before you. One has light green skin and horns, who seems to be bleeding from his mouth. Another has large wings, akin to a butterfly, with a neutral coloured pattern painted over them. The third is very human-like in appearance. He’s shorter than his two companions, with pointed ears, sharp teeth, and claws that adorn his features.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” The one with the wings steps forwards, a malicious grin tugging at his lips.

Naturally, you take a step backwards, your heart jumping into your throat. Your eyes dart between the three fae as they creep towards you, matching their pace with each step backwards you take. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder if it was the redcap that gave them the key to unlock this room.

“Don’t act so coy, Doll,” the human-like fae drawls, his fangs prominent as he smiles wickedly at you. “We’re only here to have some fun. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Please, I don’t want any trouble,” you say weakly, lifting your hands before you slightly in a defensive position.

Boisterous laughter greets your ears as the door to the room swings shut behind them, sealing your fate. There’s no way the other fae is going to come back to save you now. You’re stuck, and this time, you really will die at the hands of three unfamiliar fae who look at you like an object they’re going to enjoy ripping apart.

“You should have thought of that before you waltzed in here without a claim, acting like you own the place,” the one with wings spits, and you can hear the green one gargle out something that sounds like a noise of agreement. Only, more blood escapes his mouth, and he ends up spitting it in your direction and onto the floor at your feet.

“You’re not going to look much different than that pile of blood once we’re done with you,” the human-like one says, a sick, twisted sense of glee lighting up his features.

“Until then, you live to serve us.” The butterfly winged fae adds sharply. “We’ll take all the pleasure we can from this pathetic body of yours, and after each round, you’re going to thank us for even bothering to touch you.”

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, skin prickling in disgust as bile builds in your chest. Your stomach drops, and before you can think, you spin on your heel, attempting to make a break out the window.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The human-like fae blocks your path, grabbing your wrists in his hands harshly and holding you in place.

“Let me go!” You begin to thrash around to no avail, tripping over your own feet as you get dragged back and towards the one bed.

“Oh, this one has some fight left in her,” the winged one snickers, leaning casually against the wall as he observes the scene. “Looks like that general was too easy on this one. Guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

“You should be thanking us for even looking at a disgusting creature such as yourself.” The one that had dragged you towards the bed throws you upon it, wasting no time in pinning you down upon the mattress.

Your protests and pleas to stop fall on deaf ears. In fact, the more you struggle, the more it seems to delight the three fae closing in around you. Thrashing beneath his harsh hold only earns you a knee to the stomach, and you cry out in pain. 

Tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you feel hands groping you all over as the fae above you keeps you captive beneath him. This scene is all to familiar to you, and just as with all those times before, no one is coming to your rescue. 

No matter how loudly you scream, no matter how much you beg, struggle, and cry, no one will care.

The only certainty that now awaits you is death.

“Stop struggling,” the fae above you hisses, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head as he adds more pressure to the knee digging into your stomach. “Shut up, and take it like pathetic human you are.”

The moment you see the fae reach a clawed hand towards your shirt, you stop breathing. 

It feels as if time stops. One moment the fae is above you, pinning you down unforgivingly. The next, he’s gone, the pressure on both your wrists and stomach completely having disappeared.

A sickening crunch echoes throughout the room, followed by an immediate scream of pain.

A blur moves through the room, and suddenly, you see a wing get tossed towards the window, followed shortly by another. The tearing sounds resonate through the room, followed almost immediately by muffled screams and pleas for mercy.

Only one figure remains within view, and as he uncurls himself into a standing position, his full height looms over the entire room. His towering form fills the space around you, and as you lay upon the bed, you feel as if you can breathe again. Never have you been so grateful to see that terrifying redcap standing across from you, but still you cannot prevent your body from shaking.

“All this for a fucking human.” A voice from the ground spits harshly.

Looking down, you see the green fae cowering in the corner, and the one with the once beautiful butterfly wings laying face down on his stomach. His back is completely torn asunder, blood coating the entire area as his wings lie in torn heaps upon the ground.

“You’re going to break code just for a stupid mortal?” The same fae hisses, pure anger on his features as he trembles beneath the redcap’s piercing gaze.

“You can’t kill us.” The one human-like fae by the window laughs. He seems to be holding his hands before himself, fingers severely deformed and sticking out in odd angles. Bones peek through his flesh, and blood coats every inch of his hands, but that does not prevent the way his whole body trembles as the redcap takes a menacing step towards him.

“You’re not dead yet, are you?” The general spits, gaze sharp as he pointedly looks between all three fae cowering around the room.

Frantically, they shake their heads.

“That’s what I thought.” He snaps, lips pulled over his fangs in a snarl. “I doubt any of you want to chance a duel against me given the state you’re all in. Not that’d you’d survive, even at full strength.”

Again, the three fae shake their head. Though this time, scowls adorn their features.

“Now,” the redcap’s eyes flash, a low snarl permeating the air. “Get out of my sight before I rid you all of yours.”

All three fae scramble for the door, the human-like one managing to trip over his own feet and land harshly on his broken hands. A sharp cry escapes him, and the horned fae ends up having to pull the other to his feet, soon supporting both broken fae as they tumble out of the room.

You can hear the redcap muttering under his breath, leaning down to pick something up from the floor. Not even a second later, and he’s crushed what appears to be a second ward key in his hand, tossing it over his shoulder without another thought.

He turns to you.

There you lie, stiff as a board on top of the one mattress. The other bed lays untouched to your side, but all you can do is stare with wide eyes at the redcap before you. Your gaze darts over the blood splattered on his skin, the red dotting his clothing in random patterns.

Your lungs burn, and your eyes sting. Yet, still, you do not move. No words escape you, not trusting your voice for the moment as you wait for him to move.

He takes a cautious step forward, but you fail to see the way his gaze softens as he does.

A whimper escapes you, another tear sliding from the corner of your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he lifts his hands, palms facing upwards to show you he means you no harm. “Breathe.”

Oh, yeah. You should probably fill your lungs with air. No wonder your chest is burning.

A stuttering gasp escapes you as you heave a large breath into your lungs. However, the second you do, a harsh sob escapes you. Immediately, you’re scrambling back on the bed, a hand clutching over your stomach where that fae dug his knee into you. Your wrists throb, more tears blurring your vision as the redcap takes another step towards you.

“Stay away.” The plea is but a desperate whisper upon your lips, chin trembling as you attempt to curl in on yourself.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Still, he keeps his hands in the air, palms facing towards you. “You have my word.”

Your gaze catches on the blood staining his clothes, smeared over his skin, and you shake your head.

For a moment, you swear you watch his brow furrow, only for realization to line his features. He straightens, doing his best to move in the least threatening manner possible.

“Stay here.” His voice is low, an edge of worry lining his command.

Before you can even react, the fae disappears into the bathroom. You can hear the sound of water, followed by some frantic scrubbing. Then, more water trickling along with the movement inside the bathroom.

The whole time you sit on the bed, your gaze is locked on the little opening where the main door to the room and the door to the bathroom reside. You can faintly hear things being shuffled around you, and you swear you catch something dart across the room out of the corner of your eye. It’s small, and quick, but when you shift your head to look, all that greets you is empty space.

An empty room devoid of any of the mess you just witnessed stain it.

The blood splatters are gone, along with the tattered remains of the one fae’s wings. There’s even a fresh set of clothing at the end of your bed by your feet, completely identical to the ones you’re currently wearing.

You swallow thickly.

Turning your head, you begin to look around the room once more. Your eyes search for one thing in particular, and you find it resting beside you on the bedside table. It’s almost as if it had been placed delicately beside you after someone had realized the horrifying events that have just taken place.

The red spider lilies are crushed, the stem broken in two. The flower that means so much to you has been tread upon like it’s nothing, reflecting exactly how you feel in this moment. Only a few petals remain, wilted and dead, clinging to the plant for dear life in a final attempts to maintain what once was pure.

Slowly, you reach over and take the dying stem into your trembling grip.

A choked sob escapes you, and you’re quick to slap a hand over your mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut. The hand you have holding the flower also clutches at your throbbing stomach as your whole body shakes with the weight of your situation.

What you’ve been through - what you’re going through - you cannot take it anymore.

The hand that caresses the top of your head is soft, but the unexpected touch still makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Pain lingers in your gaze as you turn to see the redcap staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

No, not unreadable. You just cannot accept that someone is actually looking at you in concern, rather than pity for once.

He pulls his hand away, hesitant in the way he leans the slightest bit over the bed that you’re curled up on. His normally looming figure doesn’t seem so intimidating all of a sudden, almost as if his features have softened beneath the faint glow of the moon.

You watch him carefully, observing his every movement with a wary glint to your gaze. He saved you. He protected you, and you don’t know if that scares you more than if he had sent those other three fae after you like you had originally thought. His actions confuse you, and more than anything, you’re tired. 

Exhaustion doesn’t even come close to the immense fatigue you feel. You’re tired of the life you were given. Tired of the life you’ve been forced into. Tired of living.

Honestly, you don’t know what to do anymore. It seems accepting your fate isn’t going exactly as you thought it would, nor is it as easy as it seems.

“Are you hurt?” Though he keeps his voice soft, the sudden timbre cutting through the silence of the room still makes you jump.

You shake your head, hand tightening around that broken flower over your stomach.

His eyes glance the movement, and his expression falls slightly.

“I only wish to make sure you’re okay.” Again, he keeps his voice soft, tone steady as he meets your gaze.

You bite your lower lip, attempting to keep it from wobbling as a single sob wracks your entire body. Then another, and then another, until you’re breaking down before his very eyes.

Tears stream down your face as you continue to muffle your sobs behind your one hand. Your eyes squeeze shut, simply wishing to disappear in this very moment. You wish you had never been born, where nothing but servitude, injustice, and hell rule your life with an iron grip.

From the very first memories you can recall, someone has always been using you. Whether it be your parents, friends, or other family members, you’ve always lived to serve. No one has ever cared for you, and no one has ever fought for you.

It all feels like one big joke. A lie concocted by the monster stalking you through your every waking nightmare, ready to jump out and laugh at you for even thinking anyone could ever care for you.

Yet, despite the darkness swirling within, a light begins to peek through.

Softly, the bed dips as the fae rests a knee on the mattress. His hand strokes gently over your head, tentatively pulling you into his arms as he settles himself against the headboard.

“Shh, it’s okay,” his voice is calm, soothing. “I’ve got you.”

He holds you against his chest, cradling your head in the palm of his hand. He’s hesitant as he comforts you, making sure his arms are loose enough to allow you to pull away if need be. Only, you do not shy from his touch, instead finding it oddly satisfying that he of all creatures chose to comfort you.

Most important of all, you let him.

“I won’t let anything else harm you,” he says softly. “Not while I’m here to protect you.”

His one hand strokes lightly over your back, and though a shiver caresses your spine at the first touch, you find yourself melting into the warmth of his embrace. It’s soothing, and everything you’ve always needed but have never gotten in your entire life. A safety that shouldn’t be as welcoming as it is.

His body is firm and lean against your own. A solid foundation which holds you steady as you cling onto the fabric of his now clean shirt with your one hand. Your sobs are muffled into his chest, your sadness being absorbed into the material adorning his skin as he cradles you to him.

After some time, you feel his one hand shift downwards, placing itself over your own on top of your stomach. The warmth that you can feel radiating from his skin is welcomed, and it helps to ease the ache you feel lingering within. Softly, he begins to hum, his chest vibrating with the gentle sounds as he continues to cradle your head to his chest using his opposite hand.

The steady sound of his heart pulses beneath your ear, and the constant sound soothes you even further. You don’t realize it, but you curl in closer into him, breathing finally evening out as you start to calm down.

“Why did you-“ You swallow the dryness in your throat, sniffling lightly. “Why did you do that?”

Though your voice is barely above a whisper, you know he still hears you loud and clear.

“I… don’t know,” his brow furrows slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “My body just moved.”

You say nothing in response, unsure of how to reply to such an admission. You know that he cannot lie, but that doesn’t mean he cannot stretch the truth. Really, you shouldn’t be letting yourself be coddled by him, it’ll only make it hurt more when he betrays you in the end. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You are so used to disappointment, of having false hope, that anything you believe to be too good to be true always is. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, and he’ll be back to despising your existence, only finding value in what you can do for him.

The same as it always was. The same as it always will be.

[elliereject]

ifhy .2

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, ellie beats someone up, angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* HELLLLLOOOO!? oh my god 100 likes on part 1 and over 100 followers??? ty? so much?? <3 the next parts almost done so I gotta tweak some things but I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I meant to post this like 2 days ago but I fell asleep editing…

* mdni

* wc ~ smth like 1.8k

pt .1 here ★ pt .3 coming soon

“Are you seriously wearing that?” You sighed, flopping back on Ellie’s twin bed.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Ellie asked, eyeing her worn skinny jeans and a black oversized hoodie.

“First, there’s a hole in the side of your hood. Second, you wore that 3 times this week already.”

“No, I didn’t. These are different jeans!”

You groaned, “Ellie it’s a party, live a little.”

She let out a small laugh, “Says you, you were literally on the verge of throwing up like 5 minutes ago. Did whatshisname text you?”

She crossed her fingers in hope that he hadn’t.

You rolled your eyes, “You know his name, and he said he got there about 20 minutes ago and’ll meet me near the living room.”

“Cool, cool.” She said stiffly. “We should probably get going then.”

You jumped up from the bed, practically skipping over to the door. “Finally, you take a surprisingly long time to get ready.”

She didn’t. She was just trying to drag out the amount of time she had before she saw you clinging to your boyfriend and laughing at his stupid jokes.

She was still trying to find a way to show you that he was a dick and she was what you needed but all the ideas she had ended up with him dead and while she was considering it, you probably would have a hard time forgiving her.

The two of you trekked down to the elevator and while your back was turned she couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to slip her hand into yours. How would you react? Would you recoil? Or would you squeeze her palm? Ellie was never really a touchy person yet she made some exceptions when it came to you, however nothing as intimate as hand holding.

And something screamed at her, begging her to try. Her fingers itched by her leg and before she knew it she was stretching out her arm.

Close…so close she could feel the warmth radiating off you.

In a moment you whipped around and she didn’t have enough time to retract her hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that made her heart ache.

“You just had a uh– a piece of lint.” She lied easily as she picked nothing off your sleeve.

“Oh, thanks! Easier to get rid of then a hole, huh?” You let out a giggle and stuck your finger through said hole, she forced a laugh.

The rest of the ride down Ellie urged herself not to have any more daring thoughts.

Once down, you cracked jokes about your professor and weirdos in your classes, and Ellie tried her best to laugh along, all the way to the frat where the party was being held. Once you made it, you shoved past the sweaty bodies in the living room to look for your boyfriend whilst Ellie shrunk into the kitchen to confide chat with Jesse who was busy chugging a twisted lemonade.

“Jesse. I want you to thank God you aren’t a lesbian.” Ellie groaned, pulling the drink from his lips and taking a swig herself.

“Shit. What happened now?” He sighed, reaching past Ellie to grab another. Ellie’s been moping about you to Jesse for a while now, although he doesn’t really know it’s you because she doesn’t wanna fuck up the way her friends view your guys’ relationship.

“I was walking behind her earlier before we got into the elevat— classroom. And I was like 5 seconds away from grabbing her hand.”

“And why’s that a bad thing? I thought you liked her.” He asked in between sips.

“Because she has a fucking boyfriend! And that would’ve been so embarrassing I think I would’ve bit off my tongue and killed my self right there.”

Jesse let out a low whistle and Ellie crossed her arms. “Don’t you have any advice for me, or are you just gonna stand there?”

The man shrugged, “You’re not gonna like what I have to tell you. Have you tried talking to Joel about any of this?”

Ellie shook her head with a sigh, “He’s busy with work as is, I don’t wanna bother him with this shit when I barely even get to talk to him.”

“Well then, you should prob—hey! ★ what’s up?”

Their conversation was cut short as you walked into the crowded kitchen. With no luck in the living room, you decided to retreat there to talk with your friends while periodically checking your phone for any missed calls or texts.

Ellie noticed the worried look on your face. “Hey, hey. He’ll call. And if he doesn’t he’s a fucking idiot.”

She urged you to try and live in the moment and reassured you again that’d he’d call soon, even though she hoped and prayed he didn’t.

You gave her a small smile and muttered “I guess.” Before taking the red solo cup she offered you and downing it. Eventually, Dina joined your little trio and you temporarily forgot all about him since you were having so much fun chatting with your friends.

Ellie, still smiling, excused herself to the washroom after announcing she had to piss and thank god she did because the scene she stumbled upon literally made her laugh with joy. She had been looking for a reason to beat the fuck out of your boyfriend and did she find it.

After mistaking one of the bedrooms for the washroom—since every fucking door in that house looked the same—her eyes immediately landed on the familiar lanky figure who was shacking up with some tiny brunette bitch.

“No fucking way!” She guffawed, completely amused.

“Please, it’s not—“ Your boyfriend started, pulling his lips from the girl and straightening out his shirt.

“I’ve been looking for a reason to beat your sorry ass! This is just perfect.” She laughed manically as she stomped into the room, slamming the door behind her and cracking her knuckles.

The girl he was previously with was shaken to her core, and practically sprinted out of there. Before he could get out another word, Ellie’s fist was already crushing his face.

“You dick, God I knew you were an asshole but this is just—wow! Cheating on her when she is most definitely the best you could ever do?” Another punch and he was on the ground.

Blood was leaking from his nose and his lip was split. Suddenly she was on top of him, her fists flying. His glasses were broken and tears ran down his face pathetically.

She’d bottled up her emotions for so long; her love for you, her jealousy towards him, her anger at the entire situation, that it all muddled together and bursted the bottle, sending shards everywhere.

Ellie has always been an innately intense person, but this, pummelling something that deserved it, someone that she’d been fantasizing about beating the shit out of ever since she’d met them. It felt good.

“Pl-please stop.” He begged, and she halted her fists, but only for a moment.

She scoffed. “Stop? Stop. Man, I should rip your tongue out. Maybe that’ll finally shut you up.”

His eyes widened as he scanned her eyes for any sign of sympathy, of mercy, but all he found was icy green.

“You’re fucking crazy!” He shouted, trying and failing to shimmy her off him.

She shrugged, “Maybe.”

She was about to throw another fist but she heard frantic footsteps speeding toward the room.

“Shit..” She tapped the side of the guy’s face harshly as he was beginning to black out. “Listen, you’re going to get up. Hop out the window and take your ass home, if someone asks what happened say you got jumped. You’re not going to look at ★ again, text her, call, or even breathe near her. Transfer out of her classes and if I even get the idea that you’re thinking of contacting her again, I will find you. And I will rip your tongue out, got it?”

He nodded wildly and she finally got off of him. She watched as he scurried toward the window and hopped out, it was only a few feet, he’d live.

Ellie wiped her stained hands on the inside of her sweater and opened the door just as the brunette from before was about to, she was standing next to one of the frat guys.

“What’s going on?” Ellie said easily, putting a charming smile on her face and hiding her hands in her pocket.

“Where is he?” The brunette asked worriedly.

“Who? It’s just me in here.” Ellie said looking around confused.

The frat boy looked behind Ellie and them at the girl before sighing and turning back around, “Don’t bother me again. Just enjoy the party.”

“B-but—“ She immediately shut up when Ellie shot her a malicious glare.

She strolled out of the room and back toward the main floor to see you sulking on the couch, checking your phone.

“What happened?” She asked, sliding next to you and resting her arm behind you on the cushions.

“He still hasn’t answered.” You pouted.

And for the first time in months she shot you a genuine smile, despite the fact you were talking about him. “I wouldn’t worry about it, don’t think you’ll hear from him anytime soon.”

You smiled at her and she shot you a weird look, “What?” she asked.

“Nothing..you just seem a little happier than usual.” You said, leaning into her arm.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

tagz ଳ (send me a message to be added!)

@bready101

[captainnameless]

hi! i was wondering if i could request some soft little Max? you and bean are my absolute favorite authors and blogs and since i am not blessed with the writing gene i was hoping you would bless us with some little Max to hopefully cheer bean up a bit too.

aw! you can always request little Max, i adore my boy. and i think this is very cute, hope you’re ok <3 @33max

- -

Daniel struggles fitting Max’s foot into his sneakers, Max’s entire body seemingly still soft and noodle-y post nap.

“Muffin,” Daniel hums, gently squeezing Max’s ankle. “Can you help Daddy, please?”

Max lifts his neck to face Daniel from where he’s flopped onto the couch, cheeks still flushed and lined with the imprint of the sheets. “Huh?”

“Your foot,” Daniel lifts Max’s ankle and wiggles it in his view, electing a soft giggle from the boy. “Has to go in your shoe, bud.”

Max sits up a little straighter so he can get his weight behind it, rubbing at his eyes and letting out a soft yawn.

Daniel resists the urge to coo, and the magnetic pull that wants to wrap Max up in a cuddle in a makeshift blanket fort and stay there for the foreseeable future, makes quick work of fitting Max’s shoes on and tying the laces.

It is a nice thought, the cuddle fort, but it’s been raining in England for the two days they have already spent together, and finally the sun has peeked to the grey clouds, and Daniel intends on soaking up some of those vitamins.

“All done,” Daniel hums as he pushes himself up, then holds out both hands for Max to pull himself up on. He does and then flops into Daniel’s chest, burying himself in the soft material of Daniel’s new enchanté sweatshirt.

Daniel smiles, wraps his arms around Max and presses his face into the messy mop of hair that he hasn’t fixed post nap. Secretly he loves the disgruntled look it gives Max, especially when they have nowhere important to be, and it just looks so cute now that Max hasn’t trimmed his hair in a bit.

“As much as I love this cuddle,” Daniel hums into Max’s dark blonde hair. “We should probably go chase the sun before she goes into hiding again.”

Daniel can feel Max make a face, the little guy also unimpressed with the amount of rain they’ve had and the strict rules that Daniel had enforced about not playing in it. Usually Daniel doesn’t mind, but their immune systems are down after the triple header, and Max would be very upset if he’d had to miss GoodWood if he were to fall ill. It had already been difficult keeping him and Lando separated post Silverstone after Lando had come down with the flu.

“Quick,” Max says already wriggling out of the hug and skipping off into the hall where their jackets are.

They’ve opted for casual wear, Daniel pleased with convincing Max out of the Red Bull windbreaker in hopes to not attract any attention on their walk, the area surrounding their AirBnB quiet anyway, but he doesn’t want to tempt fate.

Max is sporting the tote bag this time, Leo tucked inside, Max still weary of bringing him along but upset if he leaves him behind, the tote provides the perfect shield from prying eyes but it doesn’t stop Max’s babbling about everything they’re seeing.

“There’s a puddle, Leo.”

Daniel keeps a little bit of a closer eye on Max, slowing down from where he was a couple steps ahead.

“But we can’t jump in it cause we’ve got regular shoes on.” There’s a defeated sigh and Max stomps his foot away from the puddle to proof his point.

“Because,” Max adds, looking at Daniel now. “Daddy put the wrong shoes on.”

Daniel bites back an amused smile and watches as Max continues his conversation.

“Right?” He says, as if the plush is conversing with him, shaking his head as he walks past Daniel. “Silly Daddy.”

Daniel snorts, reaches out to poke at Max’s side as he passes him, something Max squeaks at and dances away from. “He’s going to get us!”

Max darts off ahead then, the dirt kicking up behind him as he speeds off further into the forest.

Daniel curses his age then, definitely enjoying their slow paced stroll up until know and wills his knees into shape as he chased after Max.

Max is definitely faster than Daniel, luckily, this version of Max is a little less speedy, more clumsy and Daniel catches up quickly enough, wrapping his arms around Max from behind and lifting him briefly. “Gotcha!”

Max bursts into a fit of giggles as he squirms out of Daniel’s hold, adjusting the tote bag on his shoulder and making sure Leo’s face can peak out again before he fits himself against Daniel’s side as they continue their stroll.

“Love.” Max hums, patting at Daniel as Daniel wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Right back at ya.”

[corviiids]

hello ⭐star⭐ for that one post about fanfic director’s commentary, hope you’re having a lovely day

thank u so much!!! i hope ur having a wonderful day too :3 ok hmm let's go with death note this time. let's talk about they both die at the end

(obviously death cw and suicidal ideation cw as well and also it's long again.)

so this one is kind of an undignified wrestle with mortality and legacy. no big dramatic strides made in that struggle, because i think getting satisfying closure about the acceptance of your own death is sort of gauche. i prefer a running stream of consciousness where you kinda flop around in the ring and kind of come to terms with things but in a really damp and hollow and itchy way.

throughout this fic i tried to use L's narration to contrast the source of his panic with the source of light's. both of them are acting sort of out of character in the sense that neither's behaviour is really aligned with the way they act in canon, and the reason i did that is sort of as a response to their own impending deaths. nobody's going to act like themselves in that circumstance. i even have them say it outright:

“I’m not really a nihilist,” says Light. “I wonder what you’d think of me if you’d met me on a normal day.” ... [L:] “I’m not ordinarily apathetic, either, by the way.”

one very simple detail showing that contrast is this:

L closes the door without locking it. He picks a direction at random and starts walking.

...

And it’d turned out they were nearby, so now they’re at Light’s apartment. “I didn’t think I’d be back here today,” he tells L, sticking his key in the lock. “Sorry if it’s messy.”

basically, light is in flight and L is in freeze. L doesn't bother locking his door when he leaves the house in the morning, but light does. L knows/accepts/has resolved that he won't be returning home that day. part of light still refuses to accept that, even though he leaves the house with the intention of ending his life.

i don't think it's fair to say that L's acceptance is more mature or that he's more at peace with his fate. it's more like...

so, L approaches situations with the perspective of looking at what is. he's truth-oriented. he accepts the facts of a given matter and then uses them to extrapolate what comes next. that extrapolation is really key to his character so it honestly bugs me a lot when people try to say that L is a purely logical character. he's not! he's running on intuition like 99% of the time and a lot of his extrapolations are wild and not evidence-based at all, but the reason for that is that he has an incredibly strong intuition based on how effectively he processes information. so L understands based on the phone call that he's going to die today, and there's really no point arguing around that fact. however, he can't actually figure out what his next steps are, because there are no next steps. he's going to die today.

throughout the story he struggles immensely with the fact that there is a piece of information he can't attain using the information he already has: he doesn't know when he's going to die, only that it's going to happen before midnight, and so he is completely unable to plan what he should do next, because he can't see any course of action through to its conclusion:

Two. Three. Two. Three. Four. Three. Two. L shakes his head. Can’t count up. Can’t count down. The numbers keep changing, but he can’t find zero. “No,” he says. Deductive reasoning, by its nature, requires premises—in order to find a fact, you must have a fact to begin with. You cannot begin with a baseline of nothing. With no reference, there can be no inference. L keeps counting, but there is no zero, or rather, there is a zero and he doesn’t know where it is. The next second could be his last, or the next, or the next, and all he can know is that at some point the ticking will stop and there is no way to orient himself to it because that point keeps moving .

this drives L crazy. that uncertainty is being represented by this incessant ticking in L's head which won't fade. ok so have you ever used a metronome? say you're counting in 4/4, so the click would play like ONE two three four ONE two three four. the rhythm is steady, but there's one emphasised beat to orient you to where you are in the measure. or, say, a ticking clock, where you can glance at it to see where you are in the 60 seconds that make up a minute. you can count down to when the next minute begins. or a timer, where you can see it counting down to zero. in L's head, he knows the ticking is counting down to the moment of his death, but he doesn't know what it's counting down to because he can't see it. he doesn't know where zero is, there's no emphasis to orient him, and he doesn't know which second he's at in the minute. he could start doing something and then die in the next three seconds, and it would be abrupt and jarring and unsatisfying, like the feeling you get when you take a breath and get winded. so he's in freeze. L accepts that he's going to die today, but he doesn't know when, and the whole time he's thinking about all the things he's never gotten to experience in his life because he's always sort of taken the concept of existence for granted. but he can't figure out how to take steps to try and check things off, because he's never actually made that list. and why make it now? because he might not get to finish them, and that's really unsatisfying. and how do you prioritise when you know you're not going to get to the end of your list and your list is infinity items long? he can't plan. he can't move. he's stuck. he panics, frozen.

light on the other hand has always had a plan for his future, and he's just watched that timeline rapidly shrink and cut all the opportunities off that he'd always been counting down towards. suddenly everything he's done up until now feels like a huge waste, because it was all a run-up to something that now doesn't exist. and he can't bear the fact that the control he'd always taken care to maintain over his life has suddenly been wrested away from him. that's why he starts the story out trying to kill himself - at the very least, he can control the when and cut the fear off.

Light swallows his mouthful of tuna and says, “If I can’t control my fate, I can at least bring it about myself.” “Does controlling your fate matter to you?” “That’s a stupid question,” says Light. “If you asked me yesterday I’d have had a hundred thousand things to say that mattered more to me than choosing how I’d die. My options have just kind of narrowed today, that’s all.”

L's right, though - light never would have done it. light wants to live more than he ever realised. i think light's had this moment of looking down the tunnel (hehe) and staring down his own impending death and realised he's not finished yet, but that's been taken out of his hands. he's realised that the mark he's left on the world has been so small and insignificant, and that if he dies now, that'll be all that's left of him. he's not willing to accept that. but that's the way things are. so he's in flight: run towards his own death so at least he can control the pace at which he dies? try to outrun the inevitable? try to speedrun a meaningful life to see if he can make some kind of mark before he stops existing for good?

“I don't know what we're walking to,” says Light. “I feel like I'm walking closer to my—to my own—” “We can stop.” “That just means it'll happen here instead. I don't want to die here, either.” “Where do you want to die?” “I don't,” Light says. His face crumples. “I just don’t. I'm not ready to be done.”

this is my favourite part of the fic tbh. it's based on a nightmare i had once that ended up changing my entire worldview. wahoo!

not to be a wanker but to an extent this is kind of what everyone's doing, technically, walking towards what will inevitably be your death, since time only moves in one direction and all that. but unlike everyone in the real world, light can see it. he wants to walk in the other direction, but it's all around him. he can see it growing closer the more he keeps moving, and all he wants to do is stop.

“What do I say?” Light asks desperately. “Hi, Dad. Hi, Mum.” Break. “Sorry I'll never give you grandchildren. Sorry I didn't get to graduate. Sorry you'll have to bury my dreams with me. Sorry for nineteen years that came to nothing in the end. It came to nothing.”

re: light refusing to speak to his family: i think he explains himself in the fic enough, but there's also another level where i think talking to his family about it means he'd have to formulate this fact into words which is difficult when he's not really accepted it himself, and on top of that, he would need to carry his family's grief and he's just not ready to do that. there's like a weird thing about talking to people who are already grieving you. i always felt really weird about that when talking to [friends/relations] who were terminally ill. light's relationship with his mother is kind of unexplored in canon but i wanted to go into it i think because your mother is someone who holds a unique spot in your life, i think, assuming you have a good relationship with her, and there is that reported phenomenon where people who are about to die tend to call out for their mothers. i guess this might be controversial but i think it's textually supported that light really cares about his family. i dont think light is ready to look at them and see them looking at him like he's someone who's already gone, and see all the things he never got to do with/for them. i honestly dont think hed survive it

ultimately it was really important to me that light died for no reason and that he didn't really have any material impact on anything. he dies trying to save a child, but someone else saves the kid first. light didn't have to take action at all. but of course, he did

As L stares, reaching hands scoop the toddler off the street from the other side.

i think in a sense it's up to personal opinion whether light had an impact or whether his friendship with L mattered at all before he died. after all, L died like an hour later, and it's not like he had anyone to pass those memories on to. he didn't even know light's surname. the memories of their last day together only exist with each other, and now they're both gone, so did it really matter? what does it mean to matter anyway? do you have to leave a legacy? is it enough that light managed to be L's only friend in the hours before L stopped existing? probably?

It's dark now. Properly dark. It's a new moon tonight, and though the stars do their best, there's little that can cut through the blackness in its absence.

...

L stares up at the moonless sky.

...

It might have been nice to die with the moon.

ofc light's name is written with the kanji for moon. just a silly joke lol.

L's death is something that's more likely to happen when you're alone, by the way. he gets mugged because he's an easy target sitting alone on a park floor. too bad he didn't have more friends and his only friend is dead.

also, the fact that he's a detective who gets murdered in a random act of crime was sort of another nod to the futility of the whole thing that light struggles with in canon. like, work your ass off, solve crime after crime, bring people to justice, but it never ends. crime continues. so is there a point? (yes, obviously.) but that's just a return to the struggle for legacy and meaning, where it's hard not to wonder whether the thing you're doing matters if it's not permanent / if you didn't solve something for good / if you didn't leave a mark that will never fade. i dunno. i think L did enough good in his lifetime. it wasn't enough to save him, but everyone dies eventually, so maybe it doesn't really matter?

i didn't want to give either of them the dignity of a full final thought. light definitely doesn't realise what's happening in the moment before he dies because he didn't see the truck, so i think he didn't have a chance to formulate one.

L watches a look of relief cross Light's face in the split second before the truck horn blares.

L of course gets cut off mid-sentence, just like he'd implicitly feared he might - trying to check things off the list, tie things off, before he's done:

What might a good final thought be? A final sight? He wonders if he could possibly find a star before

hopefully if you read the fic you got something out of it! it is, i think, intentionally pretty hollow and futile feeling, but not in a way that's supposed to make you feel hopeless or nihilistic. well, i hope not. i think there's something really cathartic that comes with the kind of closure you get specifically from accepting that sometimes there's no closure. that's how i felt writing it, so hopefully reading it is something similar. i dunno!

[aggro-my-beloved]

《 ♡ Soulmate September Schedule ♡ 》

hello lovely fandom, @aggro-my-beloved here! i’m over the moon to announce that for the entire month of september i will be posting soulmate au centered fics featuring your favorite redacted pairings! some are canon, some are not…but all the works listed below are ones i’m proud to share. the plots and pairings will be listed below the cut. please interact by replying or reblogging this post, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of the following fics once they are

posted <3 (p.s. pls don’t let this flop)

all the following prompts are based on this post from my main blog, @buck-nialled

⑨.②.②④ ⇒ “Long In The Tooth” (LaskoxDear)

[lasko’s been eighteen for six years now, and frankly, he’s becoming sick of playing a juvenile. what makes his endeavor for a soulmate even more bewildering? they’re one of his students.]

❾.❹.❷❹ ⇒ “Trash Polka” (AsherxBabe)

[babe is tired of wearing hoodies in summer, and leggings in the spring. but their soulmate seems too caught up in his career to mind leaving little notes and drawings on their skin, rather than meeting up for a legitimate conversation. babe takes matters into their own hands, which soon won’t be covered by a mod-podge of their soulmate’s scribbles. at least, one can hope.]

⑨.⑥.②④ ⇒ “The Grey Area” (GuyxHoney)

[what’s more depressing than witnessing an amusement park in black and white? realizing it may be the last time you visit one, is probably what guy would answer, as he dangles upside down on Wonderworld’s “Surge” coaster. the pretty stranger next to him isn’t the worst company, though.]

❾.❽.❷❹ ⇒ “A Great Disservice” (DavidxAngel)

[david serves a dangerous line of work. and angel? they cat sit. still, both come home with cuts and scratches for the same reason.]

⑨.①⓪.②④ ⇒ “Rumination” (DamienxHuxley)

[a re-imagined dialogue to the elemental bois confessing their feelings.]

❾.❶❷.❷❹ ⇒ “Resigned/Sullen” (DavidxAsher)

[neither david nor asher have spoken post-inversion about the turmoil they experienced in the arena. not the scars that wouldn’t heal, not what caused them, and certainly not who kept asher from bleeding out on the ground.]

⑨.①④.②④ ⇒ “Pulsation” (Foolsverse!MiloxSweetheart)

[milo enjoys feeling his soulmate’s heart thump faster when he’s present. but only when he’s present.]

❾.❶❻.❷❹ ⇒ “Like and Unlike” (Davidxfem!Angel)

[angel thinks she’s finally found a cure for her crippling social anxiety at Dahlia’s local gym. but she cannot tell if david, the ill-tempered coach, will be the one to make or break her progress.]

⑨.①⑧.②④ ⇒ “Parting Song” (QuinnxDarlin’)

[when you’re standing next to who you think is your soulmate, as you watch the real one whither away in a shitty steel department chair—how do you respond?]

❾.❷⓪.❷❹ ⇒ “Battered and Bruised” (Samx Darlin’)

[so long as he doesn’t tell them, sam can keep up his act of healing darlin’ without suspicion. it’s magic, after all…]

⑨.②②.②④ ⇒ “Twin, Where Have You Been?” (MiloxSweetheart)

[“well, sweetheart. one of us is gonna have to change.” in which milo and his soulmate will forever be that couple.]

❾.❷❹.❷❹ ⇒ “Midnight Oil” (AaronxSmartass)

[the matchmaker test is the one exam nobody can study for. only fate will tell a person who they truly belong with. still, aaron attempts to pull an all nighter with his overly-charming classmate in an attempt to cheat the system.]

⑨.②⑥.②④ ⇒ “All Roads Lead To…” (DavidxDarlin’)

[david’s twelve years young and still leashed in red, wondering when he’ll meet the one on the other side of it, or if he even wants to. darlin’ is eleven years in, a hopeless romantic, and crossing the California state line when they notice their red string now has a little slack.]

❾.❷❽.❷❹ ⇒ “Change Your Tune” (GeordixCutie)

[cutie’s soulmate is the number one target on their shit list. because who on god’s green earth gets the tetris theme stuck in their head on a daily basis? well, they’re about to meet him...]

⑨.③⓪.②④ ⇒ “As If You’ll Live Forever” (ElliotxSunshine)

[the one thing more ironic than sunshine’s soulmate being a dreamwalker is how tired they’ve become of sleeping.]

[sequinsmile-x]

Edges of Your Soul

She blows out a slow breath, desperate to try and calm her nerves, to try to quiet the voice in her head that had been berating her since she first realised she might be pregnant, a repetition of how can you be so stupid to be here again less than a decade after the first time getting louder with each passing second. 

A Young Hotchniss AU

-x-

Hi friends,

I always get requests for pregnant Young Hotchniss, and I posted this Instagram series telling that story just over a week ago, and it went down so well I knew I had to write a fic to go with it.

As always, this got away from me massively and got very long. Just a note that this is pretty canon divergent so I could use characters we know and love <3

I really hope you enjoy it, and cannot wait to know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 9.1k (it really really got away)

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, mentions of abortion, references to miscarriage

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Fuck.” 

She brings her hand to her face, half capturing the curse as she covers her mouth, her fingers shaking as they press against her lips. She picks up the pregnancy test with her other hand, lifting it so she can have a closer look, staring it down as if the pink plus sign looking back at her would change. Her stomach rolls and she drops the test, the plastic clamouring against the sink as she grips the edge of the counter. She blows out a slow breath, desperate to try and calm her nerves, to try to quiet the voice in her head that had been berating her since she first realised she might be pregnant, a repetition of how can you be so stupid to be here again less than a decade after the first time getting louder with each passing second. 

She jumps at the knock on the door, her best friend and roommate’s voice partially muffled by the thick wood, “Emily? Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.” 

She blows out a breath again and picks up the test, unlocking the door and shoving the test into JJ’s hands at the same time, walking past her so she doesn’t have to see her face when she finds out, “It’s positive.” 

It’s silent as Emily flops down onto the couch and grabs a cushion, holding it tight against her abdomen as she tries to breathe. JJ walks over and joins her on the couch, making a point of not touching her and giving her as much space as she can, “How do we feel about this? Are we excited? Or considering exercising our right to choose?” 

Emily huffs out a desperate laugh, nothing short of furious at herself for the tears that flood her eyes, her vision blurry as she looks at her friend, “I…I don’t know.” 

Last time, it had been clear-cut. No matter how scared she’d been, how terrified the prospect that any of it had made her, she knew she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet. She had only been 15. A kid herself faced with making choices she’d even then were difficult for adults to make. Matthew had helped her, he’d held her hand as he tried to fix what another boy had broken, but she’d still felt alone. Left to deal with the consequences of what had been nothing more than a fumble in the back of John’s parent’s car one evening. A few minutes that had changed everything. 

This time she didn’t know what she wanted. She had a boyfriend. A loving man who was good and kind and nothing but wonderful to her. It made it more complicated, the thought that this would be where they would probably head one day anyway, even if when she had let herself think about a future with him kids had been far far down the line. 

“Aaron is a good guy, Em,” JJ says, as if she’d been able to read her mind, “You should talk to him about it.” 

She scoffs and wipes tears away as they slip past her lashline, “His ex-fiance broke up with him because she wanted kids and he wanted to wait.” 

When they met he was heartbroken, a sad edge to his professionalism as he worked at her mother’s estate that had intrigued her and drawn her in. At first, he was merely something that had piqued her interest. He was younger than the rest of her mother’s security staff, but did his best to fit in by being overly serious. His frown aged him, and his slightly poorly fitting suit gave away that he didn’t quite belong in the place he’d found himself. 

It was only when she got to know him, a friendship he’d often joked since that she’d somewhat forced on him by sitting in his office all day and asking him questions, that the draw towards him became more than just giving her something to do in her summer between her undergrad and her master's degree. For someone in their late 20’s, he’d already achieved a lot. He’d graduated from Harvard Law School, had worked as a prosecutor for a couple of years until he pivoted to private security with the hope of joining the FBI. When she asked him why he’d made the change, she’d expected some bullshit answer about wanting to nip the crimes he’d been prosecuting in the bud, to help stop them at the source, but instead, he said he’d done it for his ex. That it had been a last-ditch attempt to salvage his relationship with his high school sweetheart, but that it had been a wasted effort in the end, that they’d broken up anyway when they continued to argue about fundamental things. Emily had apologised, her cheeks burning as she worried she’d upset him, something she wondered why she cared so much about, but he’d waved it off, his smile soft as he told her it was fine. 

Not long after that, things shifted between them, their friendship moving into more one night when she kissed him. They’d agreed that it would just be a summer thing, that her move to Yale would signal the end of whatever this was, and looking back on it she knew they were both lying - more to themselves than to each other - if they truly thought this thing between them could ever just be sex. 

They made long-distance work. He came to visit her as much as he could and she went to DC to visit him whenever she could. She hated it, hated that he wasn’t as close as he had been during those fleeting months over the summer, but she was getting used to it and she knew he was too. She was happy for the first time in as long as she could remember, excelling in her classes and surrounded by good people for once, and then she started to feel nauseous. A familiar exhaustion started to sink into her bones that made her wonder if her Labour Day Weekend with Aaron had left her with more than the memories of three days alone with him. 

“Emily,” JJ says, drawing her out of herself, her expression firm and her touch on Emily’s arm kind, “Whatever you choose to do you need to talk to him,” she smiles, “You two love each other - it’s kind of disgusting actually,” she laughs when Emily chuckles, pleased with herself for pulling it out of her, “Talk to him. And if he’s a dick about it, which I don’t think he will be, I’ll drive down to DC and egg his car for you.” 

Emily laughs again, full-bodied this time, and she sighs, a little bit of the tension in her chest easing, “You’re right,” she says, leaning into her friend's side, grateful for the hug she immediately provides her, “I’ll talk to him. But I might go down for the weekend,” she scrunches her nose up, “I don’t want to tell him over the phone.” 

She calls him when she goes to her room that night, grateful for a couple of hours with JJ where they’d drank mocktails made out of whatever sodas they’d had in the fridge, their trusty bottle of tequila untouched for once, and she can feel her heart in her throat when she calls him, a picture of the two of them staring at her from her nightstand. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, answering on the first ring, “I was just about to call you.” 

She smiles, curling up on her bed, wishing she was with him, “Great minds think alike,” she quips, her stomach churning with nerves, “Do you have any plans this weekend?” 

“No,” he replies, “Dave said he’ll make sure we don’t have any cases. Whatever that means.” 

She chuckles, “I was thinking…I might come down and see you.” 

“I’d love that,” he says, his reply immediate, “I miss you.” 

She presses her lips together, tears she thinks she might have to get used to flooding her eyes, “I miss you too.” 

“Are you okay, Em?” He asks, and for a moment she hates that he’s so intuitive, a skill that had quickly earned him a place on the BAU unit at the FBI shortly after he passed out from the academy. She clears her throat and nods even though he can’t see her. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she assures him, swallowing thickly against the lie, “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow. I’ll be with you by lunchtime.” 

“Okay,” he replies, clearly not entirely believing her, “I’ll make sure I have all your favourites in. Including that awful beer you like.” 

She chokes on a laugh, her hand drifting to her stomach as if on autopilot, “You’re sweet.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” 

She closes her eyes and wipes away a tear that falls as she does so, “I’m sure,” she says, “Now tell me about work.” 

She listens as he tells her about the case he is working on, guilt for the fact she was about to change the landscape of his life bitter on her tongue until they eventually hang up, the promise that they’d see each other tomorrow ringing in her ears until she falls asleep.

___

The next morning, it’s all a little clearer. 

The drive to DC gives her time to think, the music she’d agonised over choosing for the journey barely registering as she considers the two futures she has in front of her, wanting to make sure she felt a little more on steady ground before she spoke to Aaron. 

She wanted to do this. 

It was something she’d somehow woken up knowing. Forced out of bed by nausea that sent her running to the toilet, spitting into it as she thought to herself that she hoped this only lasted for the first trimester. A done deal that she’d be pregnant long enough to find out something that her subconscious had seemingly decided for her. The closer she got to Aaron’s apartment, the more sure she was, her hand low on her belly as she thought about the fact it wouldn’t be easy, that she was still in college for fucks sake, but that she wanted this baby. That this time she could do it and, no matter what Aaron said, she would do it. 

For the first time ever, she’s nervous when she knocks on his front door, part of her worried this would be the last time she’d do this, that he’d want nothing to do with her or the baby. It disappears the moment she sees him, his lips against hers as he scoops her up into his arms, his arms tight around her as he turns them, placing her back down onto the floor in his apartment. 

“Hi,” he says, kissing her again, “You made good time.” 

“Hi,” She hums, dropping her bag to the floor so she can wrap her arms around his neck, “I was up early so I just left as soon as I was ready.” 

He kisses her, his hands firm on her lower back to hold her in place as he pulls back to look at her, “I got started on brunch,” he says, “All that’s left to do is cook the eggs and it will be ready.” 

Her stomach lurches before she can even tell herself to not think about eggs, or the smell of them, and she wrenches himself from his embrace and runs to the bathroom, making it just in time as she throws up into the toilet. He’s behind her in a second, one hand on her back and the other holding her hair back. 

“You’re okay, Em,” he says, rubbing her back, “You’re okay,” she grunts as she sits back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaning against the bathroom wall as he reaches over her to flush the toilet, “Do you want some water?”

She nods, unable to speak yet, and he smiles softly before he leaves the room. He’s gone for less than a minute, returning with a glass of ice water and a kind smile as he sits on the floor next to her. She takes a sip and clears her throat, “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologise, sweetheart,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together with concern, “Are you okay? Are you sick? I could go to the pharmacy-”

“I’m not sick,” she assures him, cursing her stomach and her sudden aversion to most food she usually enjoys for putting her in this situation, for forcing her to make this admission sitting on his bathroom floor, “I’m pregnant,” she says, her lips pressed together as his eyes go wide and he clears his throat, making a conscious effort to school his features, “That’s why I wanted to come to see you, so I could tell you.” 

“Oh,” he says, “When did you find out?” 

“Yesterday,” she replies, “I had a feeling…” she sighs, and shakes her head, “So I bought a test and it was positive,” she says, watching as he opens his mouth to say something else, but she cuts him off, “Is it okay if I brush my teeth and we go sit somewhere else to have this conversation?” She asks, her smile wry, “When I practised this on the drive here this isn’t exactly how I pictured it.” 

He smiles and nods, standing up before her and offering her a hand, “I got a toothbrush for you to keep here,” he says, nodding towards the counter, “I’ll meet you in the living room.” 

He stares at her for a beat longer than usual, his eyes drifting down to her belly before he leaves, and she blows out a slow breath the moment she’s alone. She makes quick work of brushing her teeth, relieved that the taste of the mint toothpaste seems to settle her stomach rather than make it worse, and she steps out into the apartment, smiling softly when she sees her bag neatly placed on the kitchen counter. 

“I have some ginger ale,” Aaron says, drawing her attention to where he’s sitting in the living room, a can of the drink on the side table next to her usual spot on his couch, “I thought it might help.” 

His kindness makes her ache, love for him filling her lungs as she smiles and sits down next to him, leaving more space between them than she usually would, “I’m sorry that’s how you found out,” she says, wringing her hands together on her lap, “I was going to sit you down and tell you everything…but then you mentioned eggs and the morning sickness kicked in,” she shivers in disgust, “Which is the most poorly named thing ever by the way, I’ve been throwing up all hours of the day.” 

He smiles, his hands tight in his lap so he doesn’t reach out for her, wanting to follow her lead, “How long have you thought you might be pregnant?” 

“A couple of days,” she admits, shrugging one of her shoulders, “I was sick and I felt…awful,” she grimaces, “And I felt like I’d run a marathon after every class I went to. Then it clicked in my head and I couldn’t think about anything else.”

“You could have told me,” he says and she smiles at him, “I could have been there with you.” 

“I even made JJ wait on the other side of the door whilst I peed on the stick, honey,” she says, her smile wry, “If I’m not peeing in front of her I’m not peeing in front of you.” 

He laughs, the sound ragged as it catches in his chest, “Good to know,” he jokes, clearing his throat before he carries on, “Do you know what you want to do?” 

It was an inevitable question, she knows that, but it still makes anxiety swirl in her gut because she knew this was it. The defining moment of her relationship with him.  

“Yeah, I do,” she says, holding her own hand tightly so she doesn’t press her hand against her belly, “I know we haven’t been together long,” she says, swallowing down the thought that the five months she’d been with him were among some of the best of her life, “So I’m giving you an out.” 

“An out?” He asks, his brows knitting together as he tilts his head at her. 

“It’s up to you if you want to be involved,” she says, looking down at her hands, “But I’m doing this.” 

It must only be a matter of seconds until he responds, but it feels like an age, two paths of what the rest of her life could look like mapping out in front of her, “Of course, I want to be involved,” he says, and she looks up so quickly her neck pulls, the pain barely registering as she furrows her brow. 

“Really?” 

He smiles and reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing, desperate to try and press some reassurance into her skin, “Really. I love you, Emily. And if you’d wanted to not carry on with the pregnancy I’d have held your hand the entire time, but if you want this I do too, and we’ll do this together.” 

She finally lets herself sink into him, his embrace warm and comforting as he wraps his arms around her, “I love you too.” 

He kisses the top of her head, “I should make you something to eat,” he says, pulling back to look at her, “I’m assuming eggs are off the menu for a while?” 

She grimaces and buries her face in his neck, letting the smell of him overwhelm any kind of growing nausea, “They might be permanently off of it.” 

___

When she heads back to New Haven only a day later, she feels lighter. They talked about everything all night, barely getting any sleep as they lay there, both their hands on her still flat stomach as they spoke about the future. They knew they still had to do long distance for a while until she finished college and whilst it wasn’t perfect, that they both wanted to be with each other more than ever, they knew they could make it work.

He comes up to visit for her first doctor’s appointment, his hand tight around hers as the doctor shows them their baby on the ultrasound screen, everything suddenly so much more real for her when she saw the tiny, life-changing, image in front of her. They jokingly start calling the baby Bean because that’s what it looks like in the pictures they have printed. The doctor confirms that she’s got her dates right, that she’s as far long as she thinks she is, and Emily laments that it means she’ll be very pregnant when she graduates and that it will make dress shopping for the occasion so much harder. 

They do make the distance work for about a month, only arguing once when he clumsily attempts to propose, something she turns down because she doesn’t think having a baby is a reason to get married yet. He’s hurt, she knows that, but he understands, his love for her, for them, in no way diminished by her no that he understands is really a not yet. The distance works, but she hates it, and she starts to look into transferring to Georgetown for her next semester, not wanting to go through any more of this without him by her side. 

The tentative happiness she’d built up around herself comes crashing down around her when she wakes up only a couple hours after falling asleep, pain burning in her back and blood on her thighs and bed sheets. She doesn’t remember calling out for JJ, or her friend helping her into clean sweatpants and then into her car. She doesn’t remember calling Aaron, tears streaming down her face as she choked out that something was wrong, a phone call JJ took over for her when she became a little too hysterical for Aaron to understand. Everything is a blur until she speaks to a kind-eyed doctor who performs an ultrasound and tells her everything is okay, his smile patient as he points at the baby on the screen and plays Emily the heartbeat, using words like subchorionic hematoma like they meant anything to her whilst he explains what has happened. 

The doctor admits her to the hospital, assuring her that it was just for the night so they could monitor her and the baby, and she willfully agrees - wanting to make sure she is in the best place in case anything else happens. She tries to send JJ home but she refuses, steadfastly sitting by her bed as she keeps her company for hours until there’s a knock on the door. The relief she feels when she sees Aaron come into view as the door opens is palpable. 

“Em,” he chokes out, his eyes almost as wild as his hair, a sure sign he’d made no attempt to tidy himself up after her call pulled him out of bed, the fact he was still wearing his pjyamas - a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - only confirming her theory, “Are you okay? Is the baby…” he trails off as he makes it to her side, pulling her into a fierce hug as he sits on the edge of her bed. 

“We’re okay,” Emily assures him, holding him back just as tightly, gripping the back of his t-shirt with so much force she’s surprised it doesn’t rip, “We’re both okay.” She knows he wants to ask more questions, but they lapse into silence, content to seek out the comfort they’d wanted from each other for hours. 

“I should get going,” JJ says as she stands up, her soft voice reminding the couple they weren’t alone. She smiles at Emily when she pulls back just enough from Aaron to look at her, her tight grip on her boyfriend obvious even where JJ is standing, “Let me know if you need me to bring you anything when you get discharged.” 

Emily nods, her smile shaking, “Thanks JJ.”

Aaron looks at her too, “Thanks for looking after her until I could get here.” 

“Anytime,” she replies, “Although, I hope we don’t have to do this again.”

The moment they are alone Emily sinks into his embrace again, her cheek against his shoulder as he holds her close. He kisses the side of her head and she feels his chest shudder, “Em…what happened?” He asks, squeezing her tighter, “JJ told me some of it, but on the phone you…” he swallows thickly, “I’ve never heard you sound like that. You were terrified.” 

She blows out a shaky breath and pulls back to look at him, her eyes searching his as she runs her fingers through his hair to try to flatten it, “I woke up and had some back pain. It felt like…” she presses her lips together, “It felt like before.” 

She’d told him all about Rome a few weeks ago. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because she wanted to. She wanted to share that part of herself with him, to let him know just how much it meant to her that he had been so perfect throughout all of this. He’d been understanding, because of course he was, and told her how she was the bravest person he knew. Something she was sure was bullshit given that he was in the FBI, but it was a badge she’d wear with honour. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, not needing her to say anymore to understand what she thought was happening, that she’d feared the same thing he’d spent the entire drive here thinking about. He reaches out to wipe a tear from her cheek and she leans into his palm. 

“Then I realised I was bleeding,” she blows out a shaky breath, “I called out for JJ, I think I must have scared the shit out of her,” she chuckles humourlessly, “She was only out in the living room studying so she was in my room in a second. She brought me here, they showed me the baby and told me it’s okay,” she scrunches up her nose as she thinks about it, how she’s sure she barely made sense when she cried down the phone to him, “I’m sorry that I scared you.” 

“Sweetheart, no,” he says, pressing his forehead against hers, “You have nothing to apologise for. I’m glad you’re both okay,” he says, a hand on each of her cheeks as he pulls back, “What did they say?”

She sniffs, “I have something called a subchorionic hematoma. It should sort itself out but I’ll have another scan in a week to make sure everything is still okay,” she disconnects herself from him and reaches for the pictures on the nightstand, “They printed me some pictures,” she says, passing him one of them, “Bean doesn’t look much like a bean anymore.”

He smiles in relief when he looks at it, the baby actually looking like a baby this time, “Look at that,” he chokes out, clearing his throat, “Bean looks like you already,” his smile eases a little when she chuckles, and he reaches for her hand, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says, kissing his cheek, “It’s what we agreed we’d do,” she kisses him to stop him from saying anything else, not wanting to get into logistics right now, “Come here and snuggle with us,” she says, smiling softly before she kisses him again, “We can talk about the rest later okay?” She asks and nods, not arguing for a second before he slips off his shoes, frowning as he looks down at them, “What’s wrong honey?” 

He shakes his head at himself as he stands up to encourage her to move enough to let him slip into bed with her, “I put on odd shoes.” 

She laughs and looks down at the floor, one brown and one black shoe looking back at her, and she laughs harder, shaking her head at him as she sinks against him once he’s under the covers with her. She grabs his hand and rests it on her belly, her bump still practically non-existent, only noticeable to the two of them, “Did you hear that Bean?” She asks, her voice shaking as all the emotions from the last several hours catch up with her, “Daddy rushed to see us so quickly he put on odd shoes.” 

He kisses the top of her head and holds her close, running his hand up and down her arm, he hears her sniff, feels her warm tears against his skin as she presses her face into his neck, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“I just…” she chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “I don’t think I realised how much I wanted this until I thought I might lose it.” 

He holds her closer, making sure she’s gathered against him, “I know baby,” he says, cupping the back of her head, scratching lightly at her scalp, “I know. But we haven’t lost anything. We’re all still right here.” 

She nods, sucking in a deep breath as he tries to calm her down, talking to her about anything and everything until she finally falls asleep against him. She’d discharged a few hours later, sent home with instructions to be on bed rest until her appointment the following week, the beat of irritation she feels calmed by the embarrassed look on Aaron’s face when the doctor tells them no sex in that time. She’s settled into her bed, gratitude she thinks she might drown in when she realises JJ had changed her sheets for her, when Aaron walks in, still wearing the clothes he’d rushed to her in, his cell phone in his hands. 

“I spoke to Dave,” he says, walking over to join her on the bed, “I’m staying here until your appointment next week,” he smiles when she tries to interject, “There’s no point in arguing, I think if I hadn’t suggested it when I explained everything he would have fired me.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, “Does he even have the power to do that?” 

He chuckles, “I think he likes to think he does,” he reaches for her hand and squeezes it, “I’ve been thinking about work. I’m going to take a leave of absence-”

She sighs, “Aaron, honey-”

“I don’t want to be apart from you. Either of you,” he says, cutting off her interruption, “That phone call was…terrifying, Em. I drove here not knowing if either of you were okay,” he says, as firm as he ever was with her, and he presses his lips together as he shakes his head, “I want to be here for you. For all of it.” 

She stares at him, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, “I spoke to my professors a few days ago,” she admits, “I’m planning on transferring to Georgetown next semester.” 

He frowns, “No, you love Yale. You worked so hard to get here-”

“I love you and Bean more,” she says, linking their hands together, “And you love your job. It makes more sense for me to do this. We’d always end up back in DC in the long run.” She explains, sure of her decision, and he sighs, squeezing her hand as he searches her face for any sign that she’s lying, “Hey, don’t profile me. You know me, honey. I can’t be made to do anything I don’t want to do.” 

He smiles, nodding as he shifts closer, his lips stamped against hers for a moment, “As long as you’re sure.” 

“I am,” she replies, kissing him again, “As long as you’re ready for a roommate,” she smiles, “Or two.” 

His smile gets wider, his dimples carved out in his cheeks and he nods, “There’s nothing I’d want more,” he says, kissing her firmly, tugging her closely so she’s all but sitting in his lap, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

He rests his cheek on top of her head, and she can feel his smile, “Is it still too early to propose?”

She shakes her head and pinches his side, “Aaron.” 

___

Dinner with her mother had been her idea, but the moment they arrive she regrets it. What was supposed to be an evening with just her, her mother and Aaron had turned into much more than that. Elizabeth had invited several of her friends too, and Emily felt her plans to tell her mother about her transfer to Georgetown and her pregnancy slipping away from her. It makes her grateful that it’s winter and she’s wearing a stylish but baggy sweater, her now undeniable bump hidden from view. 

She has to bite back several comments as her mother continually makes a point of explaining to her friends that Aaron had worked for her the previous summer and that was how he and Emily had met. She also makes a point of saying that Aaron had just turned 30, the reason Emily was actually in town, as if the age gap, half the size of the one she and Emily’s father had shared, would bother Elizabeth if he was one of the many men she’d tried to set Emily up with over the last couple of years. 

As the evening whittles down, Elizabeth’s friends leaving one by one, Emily feels tense, Aaron’s arm around the back of her chair doing nothing to calm her calm her down. 

“I just realised I never asked about how things are going at Yale,” Elizabeth says as she sits back down, taking her place opposite them at the table even though it was just the three of them left, “How are you finding the programme?”

“It’s good,” Emily says, smiling tightly, her hand on Aaron’s leg under the table, “Finals are next week but I’m managing,” she looks up at Aaron and he smiles encouragingly at her, his hand resting over hers on his knee, “I need to tell you something.” 

Elizabeth purses her lips and looks back and forth between the two of them, “That sounds ominous.” 

“It’s not bad, Mom,” Emily says, blowing out a slow breath, “I’m transferring to Georgetown after this semester is done,” she says, carrying on when Elizabeth just stares at her, “It’s been approved by my professors and I’m registered for classes at Georgetown already.” 

Her mother sighs as she takes a sip of her wine, still looking back and forth between Emily and Aaron, “Why?” She asks, “Yale is an Ivy League college, Emily.” 

“I know,” she replies, irritation starting to spark in her gut, “Georgetown is amazing though, and I wanted to be closer to home.” 

Elizabeth hums, raising her eyebrow, “And I assume you’re going to live with Aaron when you move back.” 

“Yes,” Emily says, her mother’s tone causing her irritation to catch fire, anger burning in her veins, “Considering he’s my boyfriend and the father of my child I thought it would be best if I live with him.” It’s only after she’s spoken, when she feels Aaron’s hand tighten around hers and watches her mother’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead, that she realises what she’s said, “Mom…” 

“You’re pregnant?” 

Emily sighs and nods, “Yes, I am,” she says, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” she adds, “But yes, I am pregnant.” 

They fall into silence and it’s cloying. Thick and overwhelming as it lays over them for a moment before Elizabeth shakes her head, “How could you be so stupid?” 

“What?” Emily exclaims, her anger returning in a second.

“You’re 23, Emily. You have your whole life ahead of you and you go and get yourself pregnant by someone you hardly know.” 

“Now wait a minute-” Aaron says, chiming in to defend her, but Emily cuts him off, squeezing his hand so tightly she’s sure she might cut off the circulation. 

“I didn’t plan this,” she says, suddenly glad she’d kept what happened in Rome to herself, that she’d never told her mother. Sure that if this was her reaction now when she was an adult and in a relationship, it would have been so much worse back then, “But I want this. And I get that it’s a shock, okay? But you don’t get to call me stupid for making this choice.” 

Elizabeth sighs, her jaw tight as she clenches her teeth, and she nods sharply, “You’re right,” she says, clearing her throat, “But I hope you’re prepared for how much a child will change your life. There will be so much you’ll want to do that you now won’t be able to.” 

She swallows down the hurt at her mother all but calling her a burden, something that had negatively changed her life, and she nods, “Mom, I know-”

“But there will also be so much you’ll do that you never would have expected,” she says, her smile wistful in a way Emily rarely saw, “Like take a thousand photos the first time they smile.” 

Emily presses her lips together at that, the flash of her mother’s maternal side rare and painful like it always was, chased by the question of why can’t it always be like this, “We stare at the ultrasound as often as we can,” Emily says, looking up at Aaron, “Don’t we honey.”

“We do,” he replies, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, “We brought one to show you.” 

Elizabeth softens even further when she’s passed the grainy picture of her grandchild, and by the time they leave her house, Emily is more sure than ever that everything is going to work out. 

___

“I’m never going to find anything to wear,” She huffs in frustration as she stands back from the rack of dresses, her hand coming to rest on her bump, soothing a circle back and forth over where her daughter kicked and rolled. She sighs as she throws a look at her boyfriend over her shoulder, “This sucks.” 

Aaron wraps his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest as she leans against him, their hands linked over their little girl, “You’ll find something, sweetheart,” he assures her, steering clear of mentioning it would be easier if she at least looked at the maternity section after he’d learnt his lesson the hard way last time, “Why don’t we go get something to eat and try again after?” He offers, kissing her cheek, “I’ll get you and baby girl a pretzel.”

She hums and smiles, her irritation at not being able to find a dress for her graduation fading a little as she turns her head to kiss him, “You’re really speaking my language right now.” 

He laughs and kisses her as he shifts so he’s standing next to her, his arm hooked over her shoulders, “Which one?” 

She fake laughs and rolls her eyes at him, letting him lead her out of the clothing store they were in and towards the food court, “Very funny.” 

“I thought so.” 

Sometimes it all felt a little too easy. In the five months since she’d moved to DC, she and Aaron had settled into their life together. She’d found new friends in her college classes here, an exuberant woman called Penelope, who had claimed her as a friend the first day she walked into class, was now somehow friends with JJ. The two of them, and Aaron, had conspired to throw her a baby shower - something she’d insisted she didn’t want until she was sat there surrounded by people who cared for her and her daughter, a village she knew she could never have dreamed of when she was 15. 

The apartment that was once Aaron’s was now theirs, and his old spare room was now a nursery for their daughter that they’d decorated together. She was due to graduate in a few days, and she’d put off buying her outfit until the last possible moment so she could find something that fit - her little girl and therefore her bump growing by the day now. She was due in just under a month and now she was done with college she was just focused on having her baby, all thoughts about what she’d do for a career on hold until her little girl was in her arms. 

She knew Aaron was excited too, the look of joy he’d had on his face when they found out they were having a girl something she knew she’d remember forever. Dave told her Aaron talked about her and the baby to anyone who’d listen at work, a rare insight into his personal life he would never have allowed anyone before she’d cracked his tough outer shell. 

“Can I have two pretzels?” She asks, smiling as she looks up at him, “One for me and one for-”

“Aaron?” 

He freezes, his body tense against hers as he turns in the direction the voice had come from. She frowns and turns too, swallowing down a shocked gasp as she comes face to face with a woman she’d only ever seen pictures of.

“Haley,” Aaron says, making a point of not letting go of Emily, his arm still around her, “It’s…good to see you,” he adds, clearly unsure what to say, taken aback by seeing his ex-fiance. Emily thinks it’s likely that however shocked he is, Haley’s shock must be worse, her eyes zeroing in on Emily’s bump. 

She clears her throat and introduces herself, “I’m Emily,” she says, mentally cursing herself when she offers her hand out to the other woman, letting it drop to her side when Haley doesn’t take it.

“Right, sorry,” Aaron says, his hand squeezing her side, “This is Emily, my…my girlfriend,” he looks down at Emily, “This is Haley.” 

She nods, smiling tightly at him, the awkwardness making her skin crawl, the rise in her blood pressure making the baby kick more than usual. She looks back at Haley and notices how she’s still looking at her belly, poorly disguised fury on her face that makes Emily place a hand on her bump, something that seems to draw Haley’s attention away from it and back to their faces. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Emily says, the politeness that had been instilled in her since she was old enough to talk taking over, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Haley chuckles humourlessly, “I’m sure you have,” she says, her smile forced, “So,” she says, pressing her lips together as she looks back and forth between them, “How far along are you?” 

Whatever Emily had expected her to say it hadn’t been that, and she bites the inside of her cheek before she answers, “37 weeks.” 

Aaron sighs, anticipating where his ex was going with this, their last heartbreaking conversation swimming around in his head, “ Haley-”

“Wow,” she chokes out, cutting him off, “That’s…wow,” she looks up at Aaron, “You really didn’t hang around did you?” She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head, anger she thought she’d got over months ago finally flooding to the surface, “We’ve been broken up 13, 14 months? And since then you’ve what?” She looks Emily up and down, clearly trying to clock her age, aware she was younger than the two of them, “Knocked up a college student?”

“Haley, you don’t get to-”

“Oh hell no,” Emily says, cutting off Aaron’s more reasoned response, anger and hormones and love for him flooding through her, “You don’t get to talk to him, or me, like that. You broke up with him,” she says, crossing her arms over the top of her bump, “And your loss is my gain, but you don’t get to stand here outside a fucking clothing store and try and diminish my relationship because things didn’t turn out how you wanted them to,” she turns to look at Aaron, “I’ll leave you to it, I’ll wait for you in the food court.” 

She makes a point of kissing him before she walks away, not proud of herself for the pettiness but unable to stop herself nonetheless. She doesn’t get very far, only halfway to the food court, when Aaron catches up with her, grabbing her attention by calling her name and then jogging to her side, his hand slipping into hers. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, looking back over her shoulder to see if she can still see Haley.

“Buying my girls a pretzel each,” he says, his smile tight, his emotions still all over the place after their brief encounter with his ex. 

“Aaron,” she says, coming to a stop, linking her fingers through his, “I’m sorry I kind of blew up at her, but I really don’t mind if you talk to her. There must be things you want to get off your chest.” 

He shakes his head, “I said everything I needed to say,” he says, his smile turning wry, “Well, you said most of it.” 

She grimaces, embarrassment rushing through her now she’d got over the anger, “I’m so sorry-”

“No, don’t apologise,” she says, lifting their linked hands to his lips, “It’s sweet,” he kisses the back of her hand, “You went into Mama Bear mode.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Call me that again, and you’re not having sex until baby girl is in high school,” she hides a smirk, “Maybe college.” 

“Yes, dear,” he says, kissing her hand again before he lets their hands drop back down, “Now, let's get you that pretzel.”

“Pretzels. Plural.” ___

She was exhausted and sore in ways she hadn’t thought was possible, but so deliriously happy she barely noticed, content and happy in her little bubble with her baby girl asleep on her chest. She strokes patterns over her daughter’s dark hair, smiling as she follows the swirling patterns. 

Ivy Hotchner came into the world on her due date, screaming loudly as she protested being born, something that only quietened down as she was passed into Emily’s shaking hands. Emily knew she could live a hundred years and she’d remember everything about that moment. That first press of her little girl's skin against her own, the weight of her on her chest. The tears shining in Aaron’s eyes as he cut the chord that had connected them for 9 months. 

“Daddy will be back in a minute, sweet girl,” Emily says quietly, kissing the top of Ivy’s head, “He’s gone to call grandma and all your friends,” she runs her knuckles back and forth over her daughter’s soft cheek, “You have so many people in your corner, Ivy.” 

There’s a quick knock on the door and when she looks up Aaron walks in, his shoulders as relaxed as she’d ever seen them as he slips his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, “How are my girls doing?” 

“We’re good,” she says, looking back down at her baby, “Right, Ivy?” She smiles at Aaron as he gets into the bed with them, helping her move forward just enough that he can slip in behind her, his chest supporting her back, just like it had her entire labour, as she lays against him, “Did you speak to my mom?”

He hums, his lips against her temple as he looks down at Ivy, “I did, I told her we’d let her know when you’re up for visitors,” he says, smiling as she turns her head to look at him, “And I spoke to Penelope and JJ, they both demanded pictures as soon as we can send them.”

She chuckles, “I got a cute one of you kissing her cheek when she was laying in the bassinet,” she says, scrunching her nose up, “Might take a few days to get a cute one of me.” 

“You're beautiful,” he says, kissing her when she rolls her eyes, “I mean it. Both of you are beautiful.” 

She chuckles disbelievingly, “She is, I’ll give you that,” she says, turning her attention back to their daughter, “I can’t believe she’s here. We’ve been planning and planning for months and now she’s just…here.” 

She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put into words how it felt. How she and Aaron’s relationship had grown alongside her belly, blooming as their daughter did beneath her skin. She knew they weren’t together because of Ivy, but she knew their little girl had made them closer, tangling them together like vines as they learnt everything there was to learn about the other, so much a part of each other now she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. It was part of why they’d chosen the name they had, an acknowledgement that they were who they were now because of the baby they both couldn’t imagine life without. 

“Me neither,” he says, kissing her shoulder before he rests his chin on it, his gaze fixed on their little girl, “She’s…real,” he says, and she laughs at him, her lips against his cheek when they flame with embarrassment, “You know what I mean,” he mutters, “She was inside of you kicking up a storm and all of a sudden she’s here.” 

“As the person she tunnelled out of I wouldn’t say all of a sudden,” she quips, kissing his cheek again before she looks back down at Ivy, “But I know what you mean,” she rests her head against his, “Aaron?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m so glad you came to visit that Labour Day Weekend and knocked me up.” 

He chuckles, kissing her cheek, smiling when she turns her head to capture his lips in a kiss, “Me too,” he says, kissing her again. They lapse into contented silence, the only sounds in the room the small noises Ivy made in her sleep, and when he eventually speaks, it takes a moment for his words to register, “Can I propose to you yet?” 

She laughs, and Ivy squirms against her for a moment before she settles back down, and then Emily turns to look at him, “Not yet,” she replies, her smile soft and full of love, “Not whilst I’m wearing a diaper.” 

He nods, aware she wouldn’t have said yes right now anyway, and he holds his girls close, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

___

One Year Later 

“Did you have a good birthday, Ivy?” Emily asks, bouncing her daughter on her hip, smiling when the little girl beams at her, her tiny hands hooked in the neckline of her mother’s shirt, “Did you have fun with all your friends?” 

It never failed to make her happy when she thought about all the people Ivy had in her life. Their home had been full of family and friends. Penelope had baked Ivy’s birthday cake, and JJ had shown up with arms full of toys. Emily and Aaron’s friends from work had come too, and something about watching FBI agents being bossed around by a one-year-old as they played on the floor with her had made Emily laugh. 

Even her mother had been caught up in the festivities, crawling into the playhouse she’d bought her granddaughter, any doubt she’d had about Emily’s choices gone the very first moment she’d ever held Ivy. 

Ivy grumbles, pressing her face against Emily’s chest, “Mama!” 

Emily hums, rubbing her hand back and forth on her daughter’s back, “I know, sweet girl,” she coos, “I’m always sleepy after a party too.” 

“That’s because you’ve usually had tequila.” 

She turns and looks at her boyfriend, unable to hide her smile as she narrows her eyes at him where he is standing in the doorway to the nursery, “That’s a lot of talk for a man who Derek and Dave had to carry up to our bedroom a few weeks ago after a night out.” 

He smiles and walks towards her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then Ivy’s, “Is she okay?” 

Emily nods, walking the short distance to the small loveseat they kept in the nursery, “She’s just sleepy,” she says, sitting down and keeping Ivy secure against her, “I don’t think we’ll have the usual bedtime fight tonight.” 

He sits next to them, his arm looping around Emily’s shoulders as she continues to rub circles on their daughter’s back, “I can’t believe she’s one.” 

“Me neither,” Emily says, the closest she ever comes to pouting, “She’s growing up too fast.” 

She wanted more children with him, she knew that, but she wanted to wait. She’d joined the FBI academy when Ivy was six months old, the desire to start her career too strong to ignore any longer. Once she’d passed out from the academy she’d joined the counterterrorism unit, only one floor below the BAU, where she did translation work. It was a start, a good place for her to grow her career from and she was happy with it. They had time to have more kids, something she’d told Aaron when he asked if she wanted more. She really liked the thought of doing it all again a few years down the line, a decision she’d make next time instead of being one she’d fall into, Aaron and Ivy by her side as they grew their family. 

Right now, she was content. She had Aaron, and their little girl. The house they’d just recently moved into. A career she was proud of already and friends she wasn’t sure she could live without. 

“She’s asleep,” Aaron says, and she looks down, smiling at the sight of Ivy fast asleep, “Want me to take her?” 

She nods, kissing Ivy’s head, whispering her love for her against her skin, before Aaron lifts her from her chest. She watches as he says goodnight to Ivy, holding her with such reverence it makes her ache, and they walk out of the nursery hand in hand, the baby monitor picked up by Aaron as he walks past. 

“What shall we do for dinner?” She asks as they head for the stairs, “I’d say cake, we have enough of it, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I’ve organised dinner,” he says, an unreadable expression on his face, a spark in his eyes that makes her stomach flip. She presses her lips together and smiles, letting him guide her downstairs.

“What are you up to, Mr Hotchner?” 

“Do you trust me?” He asks when they get to the bottom of the stairs and she nods, only partially surprised when he covers her eyes.

She huffs out a breath as he leads her towards the living room, “Aaron, I swear to god if this is some kind of ploy into getting me to help tidy up…”

She trails off when he uncovers his eyes, the room that had been a mess of wrapping paper and balloons when she’d last been in it transformed entirely. There were candles on every surface, providing the only light in the room. Illuminating photos from their life together that ranged from their first actual date, to her at her Master’s graduation, both of their hands on her bump, to pictures of them and Ivy. Snapshots of their lives scattered around the room interspersed with rose petals and bunches of wildflowers, containers from her favourite Chinese takeout on the coffee table. 

“Aaron…” she gasps, her voice trailing off again when she turns to look at him. As unsurprised as she is to find him on one knee with a ring box in his hands, she still feels tears press at the back of her eyes, love for him clogging her throat. 

“You’d think considering how long I’ve been trying to do this I’d have prepared what to say,” he says, emotional himself, his eyes shining in the candlelight. He opens the ring box and the tears she’d been suppressing slip past her lashline, “I love you, and I love Ivy and our life…” he swallows thickly and she can’t think of anything to do other than to kneel in front of him, so she does that, making them eye level, “And I really hope you say yes this time.” 

She chokes on a chuckle and reaches out for him, her hand hooking around the back of his neck, “For me to say yes, you need to ask the question.” 

She watches every moment they’ve shared flicker in his eyes. Their first kiss. The moment they’d agreed they would long distance. When she told him she was pregnant and everything that had happened since, and she knows what her answer was going to be, knows what the only answer could be. 

“Emily, will you marry me?” 

She nods, barely getting her response out before she’s kissing him, holding him close as he sinks into her with relief and happiness. 

“Yes.” 

[seiya-starsniper]

For the gentle prompts! Dreamling, 1. "You're alright." <3

BELOVED I FINALLY FINISHED THIS 💖💖 Hope you enjoy this retired Dream omegaverse sweetness :3

Gentle Prompts Post Here || AO3 Link Here

------------------------ Dream paces obsessively around the tiny bedroom, feeling both claustrophobic and too exposed at once. There is a tension behind his teeth, a feeling that will not abate until his—his—until he is reunited with his beloved. His mate.

When the Fates had come for his life, Hob had stood in their way and called Dream his true mate. As soon as he’d spoken the words, Dream knew them to be true, and he’d stared in wonder, as Hob, his mate, had told the fates they could not have Dream. The Fates had been torn, as killing one’s true mate would kill both partners, and yet Hob Gadling was protected by Death herself, and thus not allowed to die. 

Dream had looked at his sister then, and all she’d given him was a tiny little knowing smile. Somehow, she had known everything, as she knew and Destiny knew all things. 

Dream had wanted to be angry at her, but he couldn’t. Not when she had led him to his mate, all those centuries ago. He had thought that Endless did not have mates, for they did not hold secondary genders the way humans had. And yet, here Hob Gadling was, declaring what everyone except Dream seemed to already know.

The Fates decided instead to take something of equal value to Dream’s life. They took from him his function, his purpose, the very essence of his power as Endless. It had hurt. They reshaped him into something else, something vulnerable and soft, something human. To Dream, the separation from his power had made him feel as though he were dying anyways. His very being had been changed, his soul was no longer what it once was, nor was his mind.

But when he woke up and looked his mate in the eyes, Dream knew everything was going to be okay. Not today, nor the next day, but eventually.  Though he was no longer Dream of the Endless, he was still Dream, and he was not going to spend the rest of his days alone. He had Hob, his oldest friend, his protector, his mate, to help him move through his new life, his new purpose, as a human being.

A knock sounds on the other side of the door, interrupting Dream from his musings of the past.  Dream whips his head so fast towards the source of the noise that he feels his neck pop. That was another new sensation of being human too. Dream had bones now. 

“Dream?” Hob asks, his voice soft and quiet and perfect in Dream’s ears. “I’m done with work now so—”

Dream pulls open the door so hard it crashes into the wall. Hob laughs as he’s forcefully yanked into the room and then pressed to the bed, Dream nuzzling and scenting him the entire time. He wants to drown Hob in his pheromones, wants to bury himself deep inside his beloved’s body, wants to be closer, closer, until he doesn’t know where one of them ends and the other begins. 

“Hey it’s alright, you’re all right, I’m here,” Hob coos, peppering Dream’s face with kisses and nosing along the alpha’s face. He returns the scenting gesture, releasing a calming pheromone that Dream inhales deeply, desperate to fill his lungs with it. He purrs happily with each inhale, and with every exhale, he feels the tension start to dissipate from his body. His muscles relax, and then he is content.

Hob senses the change in him immediately and laughs, clutching Dream even closer.

“So how’s your first rut been going?” Hob asks, and Dream groans in frustration. 

“I do not like this,” he complains, flopping onto Hob’s chest and then rolling over so as not to crush the omega. “Everything is just—so much.” Being human, in general, was a lot, and more unpleasant than good on some days. Especially today at the start of his rut. Dream had always carried the collective unconsciousness within him, he had known what human emotions felt like. And yet, having his own human emotions to contend with was an entirely different thing altogether.

Hob chuckles, and rolls on his side so that he and Dream are face to face, cupping a hand to his lover’s face.

“First one’s always a bit rough, I’m afraid,” Hob says sympathetically. “Though I can only speak for myself as an omega,” he adds. “Gets easier though, I promise.”

Dream sighs, then nuzzles into Hob’ palm. “I suppose it is a small price to pay to be your mate,” he replies.

“That’s the spirit,” Hob says, before he leans in and places a kiss at the tip of Dream’s nose. “I will say you’re one of the most polite alphas in rut I’ve ever met.”

Dream growls, suddenly jealous at the mention of Hob knowing other alphas. It is unreasonable, illogical even, to expect that his mate not be at the very least casual acquaintances with some. Hob has lived for centuries, has loved others besides Dream even. It does not bother Dream to know these things normally. But there is no logic in ruts or heats, and all Dream can think of, in this moment with his hormones running wild, is to claim. 

Hob yelps as Dream pushes him down into the mattress, then grins up at his mate as Dream’s pheromones scream mine mine mine. 

“Well, hello there,” Hob purrs when Dream dips his head down and licks along the mating bite he had given his lover just a month earlier. Hob had gone into heat within days of Dream becoming human and their lovemaking had lasted the entire week. Dream feels the same urge now as he did back then, the urge to be one with his mate. 

“I’ve got you,” Hob croons. “I’m here, whatever you need, love.”

Love.

Such a simple word, and yet it carried so much weight, so much gravitas between the two of them. Hob loved Dream, had always loved Dream. And now, they had the rest of eternity to love one another back.