#ship: you've been lonely for too long

[faerune]

“’Can you breathe okay with my head on your chest like this’? His answer was, ‘It’s the only way I know how to breathe.’“ - Dr. Lucy Kalnithi, When Breath Becomes All

[template] by @jacobseed

[baldval]

do you also do polyamorous things? could we have romantic headcanons with the vee's and a very childish reader? (sorry, I'm very silly!!!)

would prefer a gn!reader, but fem or male is always fine too!

if you don't do poly things, then just velvette is fine!

-🍋 anon

DATING THE VEES HEADCANONS!₊˚⊹♡

characters: velvette, valentino, vox, x gn!reader (poly)

warnings: cursing, nfsw headcanons later on.

a/n: i respect all ships, but personally i am a firm believer of poly!vees and, obviously, love this request!!!!

SFW:

ʚɞ without fail, vox would be the one to wake up eary and make breakfast for all of you.

ʚɞ "you're all so fucking lazy, perhaps you could try to do something?"

ʚɞ secretly, he loves to cook.

ʚɞ he'll never admit to it but you all know it.

ʚɞ as vox's alarm wakes you all up, velvette gives both valentino and you sweet good morning kisses.

ʚɞ meanwhile, valentino grumbles something into the soft flesh of your thigh.

ʚɞ very much not a morning person.

ʚɞ vox is used to hammering away for hours alone in his office, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get a bit lonely.

ʚɞ would be delighted to find you and velvette lingering to spend time with him and watching him work.

ʚɞ whereas valentino is pretty much the exact opposite.

ʚɞ 'clingy' is an understatement.

ʚɞ constantly all over the both of you.

ʚɞ genuinely doesn't matter who is around, he will hold your waist and plant a kiss on your lips natural as anything.

ʚɞ a hand on your hip as he hugs velvette by her shoulder.

ʚɞ "come on vox, you've been in there for hours." you whine

ʚɞ "i'll be done in a minute darling."

ʚɞ when she's between work, velvette loves to experiment with novel ideas for her clothing line.

ʚɞ often shows new things to you first to get your opinion.

ʚɞ one day you asked her to teach you how to sew, to which she answered with such excitement it was almost to the point of giddy.

ʚɞ val loves it when he's working and you just enter his office and sit on his legs.

ʚɞ his arms surrounding your figure.

ʚɞ vox loves when you play helpless damsel with little things, even when he knows you're exaggerating.

ʚɞ enjoys seeing you struggle

ʚɞ and when you give him puppy eyes.

ʚɞ watches you with a loving smirk.

ʚɞ "let me take care of it, darling"

ʚɞ you all love riling vox up when you know he has somewhere to be.

ʚɞ "what if we made out right now? would you still want to leave?" you tease.

ʚɞ he’s embarrassingly affected by your kisses and caresses.

ʚɞ and how you all always manage to make him late.

NSFW:

ʚɞ velvette tends to be a very rough and demanding top.

ʚɞ topping velvette is rare, but absolutely a glorious experience to be a part of.

ʚɞ whereas vox is much more giving.

ʚɞ he still needs praise tho.

ʚɞ "you look so good on top of me, it's amazing".

ʚɞ "hmm... please- keep doing that."

ʚɞ valentino is the textbook definition of a power bottom.

ʚɞ he's always the one to get impatient and jealous during sex.

ʚɞ especially when velvette or vox are taking up too much of you for too long.

ʚɞ "hurry up," he'd mumble while sucking at the skin of your neck.

ʚɞ but velvette ignores him, her mouth steadfastly doing the lord's work between your legs.

ʚɞ she's fond of the brat but not about to rush your pleasure over it.

ʚɞ besides, she know you all can think of a few better ways to shut valentino up.

[secretwritingspot]

Sleepless Nights- Soft Ending

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: E/18+ yeah I know I know, FINALLY SOME ACTUAL PORN from the smut writer. But yeah there's...not really fully sex because this is the softer ending but there is something. You'll see.

Summary: The soft ending of Sleepless Nights, Sanji *ahem* helps out Reader with getting to sleep.

Disclaimer(s): Like said above, this definitely isn't full smut like you might be expecting (don't worry, the rough ending gets a LOT more explicit but shh don't tell anyone I told you that). But that said, I'm still quite fond of it and hope y'all will be too!

"...come here."

His words are barely a whisper when he speaks, keeping his voice as soft and comforting as he can for the time being. He's in motion before you can process it, moving to sit down on one of the galley's more comfortable couches and patting the seat next to him.

Distantly, you feel yourself nod wordlessly and when you swallow, your throat feels tight and your head slightly fuzzy. You can feel your cheeks heating up but everything feels far away and blurry as you sit next to him and stare down, fidgeting with your sleeves.

You don't know how to make the first move or what to expect, if anything, and pray he's better at clearing the awkward tension than you are.

"Can I touch you?"

Though the look in his eyes is almost pleading, his voice stays gentle. He needs you to be certain about this. Needs to know he can have this and wake up able to look at himself in a mirror the morning after.

You nod and hope it's answer enough, your words failing you for the second time that night.

Thankfully it is, and he smiles gently at you like you're a work of art, the most perfect thing he's ever seen. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his free arm around you so that your back is cuddled into his chest as he keeps his voice close, low and comforting.

"Relax, sweetheart. Just relax."

He moves his other hand to your chin and turns your face upwards towards him, and when you finally meet his eyes his breath hitches in his throat.

Breathless. Somehow, you always render him breathless.

Before he can think any better of it he leans down and kisses your jaw, continuing to reassure you along the way as he peppers kisses across your skin. "Take a breath," he instructs gently, pausing for a few seconds before pulling you closer again, his kisses slowly moving down your throat.

Whether it's his words or the affectionate way he touches you, it works- you sigh shakily and relax into his arms, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes and melt into the gentle attention.

You...haven't gotten attention like this in a long, long time.

It makes sense, none of you have. After all, you've been on a ship for months, none of you with a partner on board. It could get...lonely, missing that kind of affection for so long. Even among friends.

Sanji himself was no exception.

His soft hands move up your arms, then across your collarbone. Sanji had an inkling that you had been feeling lonely, and you may not have mentioned it, but it was something he'd always known about you. It made his heart hurt thinking about it- you seemed like the type that could be a bit...needy.

"Shh, that's right darling, just like that. Relax for me, pretty girl."

Still, Sanji knew that those types - people who were needy, who craved affection and love - they don't do so well on pirate ships, even with a crew as lovely as theirs. And it's no shock, really. The sea could get lonely, especially with no one to hold you. But he does his best to make up for that now, all soft touches and softer words. It's hard for him to stop some of his deeper feelings for you from slipping their way into his strings of praise, but he tries.

One of his hands toys with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, placing a hand lightly on the bare skin of your waist. You can't help but gasp quietly at the initial, almost overwhelming warmth of his hand on the bare skin of your waist and Sanji coos softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Shhh, that's it, love. Let yourself feel it," he whispers with a small, fond smile as his fingers trail higher up your body, one arm wrapped comfortingly around your waist while the other starts to feel along the bottom edge of your bra. His hands move slowly, taking his time to get a feel for the fabric and all it's details.

To his joy, you do- letting your head fall back to lean against his shoulder with a sigh. He moves his other hand under your shirt with equal caution, not moving other than to get the thin fabric out of the way. The warm hand pressed flat to your stomach caresses reassuringly as the other seems adamant on memorizing every inch of the fabric under your shirt.

You try not to think about how right this all feels.

"I'm going to take good care of you, honey. I'll make sure you get your rest."

His voice is still quiet when he speaks, but now his words carry an undertone of something more raw as he whispers in your ear. His heart aches pleasantly at the way you relax into him, his hands tracing lazy, absent-minded shapes on your skin.

"...a pretty girl like you deserves more than a ship like this, you know."

He hides the emotional admission under an advancement of his touch, sliding a hand into the cup of your bra.

You dissolve into a soft, pretty sigh and arch slightly into his touch. His warm, soft words make you shiver- the idea that you deserve better, that somehow even this, the most wonderful you've felt in months, isn't good enough.

"This ship and I may never be worthy of your perfection, love. But if you need sleep, then you'll get it," he assures as his hand keeps working your chest as he whispers to you, thumbing gently at a nipple as he leans in to press his lips to your throat.

His affection surrounds you in an intoxicating way and you keen softly, melting into him. It feels like Sanji is everywhere- his lips on your neck, leaving affection in the form of peppered kisses as he lavishes you in praise and reassurance. His arms wrapped around you securely, his chest a safe haven to lean into. One of his hands caressing your chest as the other teases his fingers across the skin of your lower tummy, slowly working his way down. You feel completely enveloped in him, absorbed and protected and warm.

Your reaction only encourages Sanji, his words growing husky as things slowly become more intimate, more desperate.

"God, sweetheart. How long has it been since you've felt this way? Since you've had someone take care of you properly?"

"Don't know-"

You admit in a breathless whisper, gasping softly as his hand skates closer and closer to your panties.

His touch makes it hard for you to think, let alone speak. You feel floaty- hazy and fuzzy around the edges and tired, yes, but mostly just warm. He'll take care of you. He'll put you to sleep.

"A while."

"Too long," He whispers back almost immediately, the soft brush of his fingers now just on the edge of your panties. Sanji lets out a low groan at the thought of you being without someone for so long. Sanji was going to fix that.

"You going without this for any amount of time is too long. Let me make up for it, love. You deserve that much, at least."

You can't help but mewl in response to his words, especially now that his fingers are brushing over your panties. Finally, relievingly, he presses the heel of his palm down over your core, applying soft pressure in a way that makes you see stars. The breath leaves your lungs for a moment and you whimper breathlessly, melting.

His hand holds in place for a moment, making you squirm as he teasingly grinds his palm down on your clit. Sanji moves slowly but surely, making sure not to rush too quick. You had been waiting far too long, after all, so a nice slow burn before anything else was probably ideal.

"That feel good, sweetheart?"

You nod hastily, trying to construe just how good it feels before your voice finally comes back to you.

"Perfect," you answer in a breathless whisper, nuzzling into the space beneath his jaw. It really is, it's everything - the gentle pressure of his palm where you need him the most, rubbing in slow, steady circles that make you keen. His other hand massaging your chest, lips and teeth at your neck, nipping softly and whispering in your ear. " 's perfect, Sanji, please."

He hums happily in response, breath catching in his throat at the sight of you. You melt so easily at his touch, like butter in a pan. He thinks if he doesn't get you off right now so you can sleep peacefully he might die of regret, especially since you asked so nicely. He moves his palm in slow circles against your sweet spot in a way that makes you gasp, tracing his nose lightly along the cut of your jaw with a comforting whisper, voice raspy with desire.

"Shh, sweetheart, I've got you. I'll make it all better."

You can already feel yourself working your way up to something as your hips rock back against his hand instinctively and your thighs twitch.

It's so good, it's barely anything at all and yet it's so good, like sugary coffee late in the morning or the warmth of sunlight through windows or a million other things your mind is too tired to conjure right now. It feels like salvation, like a promise of well-earned rest.

Your breaths stutter and catch on the way out and soon each one is a needy whimper, thankful you're too exhausted to be loud as your voice reaches an embarrassingly desperate pitch.

"Shh, sweetheart, let it out," he soothes, tone encouraging and soft and entirely too much. "Come for me."

And you do, the request punctuated by Sanji starting to slowly speed up the circles that his palm grinds into your sex, other hand switching from caressing your curves and simply holding you to thumbing at your nipple at the same time.

The combination of the two feelings is all it takes to push you over the edge, breath catching in your throat with a desperate sort of relief as you finally come undone. It isn't anything intense, but it isn't meant to be- it washes over you in gentle waves, your exhaustion finally starting to sink in as you shiver, riding out the final ebbs and flows of the feeling.

Something about the subtlety of it make it the most beautiful thing Sanji's ever seen.

The way your voice cracks slightly on that final whimper, the way your hips continue to twitch into his palm as you ride it out, the way your thighs tremble and the rest of you just melts, going limp in his arms.

"Atta girl, sweetheart," he whispers, awe-struck.

He keeps moving his hand for a few more moments until your movements finally taper out and you start to relax more deeply against him. He can feel your heart beating, every soft breath, the exhaustion that now hangs in the air, thick and palpable.

In the soft, dark atmosphere of the galley, Sanji moves his hand back up to your waist and simply holds you, the other coming up to comb through your hair as he presses a kiss to your temple.

"You did so wonderfully."

Your only real response to the whispered praise is to hum in satisfaction and mumble something you think was supposed to be words, but you really aren't sure, your sleeplessness finally starting to catch up with you as you're slipping quite quickly.

You're clingy when you come down, he notices, and tucks that fact away in his mind for later when he's feeling romantic. You nuzzle your head into his chest and stay curled up, eyes still closed like you have every intention of falling asleep right then and there.

He would let you, he realizes, looking down at you with a near painful warmth in his chest. Happily.

"...sweet dreams, my love."

He whispers, keeping his voice as quiet as possible to avoid rousing you from the nap you've slipped into and pulling you even closer against him. Though he knows you're already asleep, he can't help but run his fingers through your hair and press tender kisses against your forehead. It's only a few moments later, once his focus is no longer entirely on taking care of you, that his nose twitches.

An odd, acrid smell fills his lungs and permeates the room. Smoke. Something that should be comfortingly familiar twists with the undercurrent of something gone wrong and he cocks his head in an attempt to identify the possible threat before his eyes go wide with an entirely different kind of panic.

Ah, fuck. The rest of the pastries.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Actually now that I'm thinking about it, the people in charge of picking the needle drops in OFMD understood the fucking assignment. Literally every one feels like it could be written into the script. It's genuinely amazing.

"High on a Rocky Ledge" being about taking a leap of faith into a new life, playing after Stede has decided his family is here at sea? Inspired.

"The Empty Boat" perfectly encapsulating Ed's despair at where he is in life and feeling of treading water?

"Perfect Day" is amazing on so many levels; it's nails how Ed's perfect day is falling apart as he's rowing away, it says "you made me think I was someone else, someone good," and if that's not an Ed line I don't know what the fuck is, and then "you're gonna reap just what you sow" demonstrating how Stede feels like going back to his family is a punishment? Fucking incredible.

"Avalanche" just nailing Ed's descent back into the persona he hates; "these crumbs of love that you offer me, they're the ones I've left behind" as he has the crew throw Stede's things he so loved overboard.

"Run From Me" is just...wow. It's all been said before but holy shit wow. It makes Ed's feeling of despair as he looks longingly at the cake toppers and makes the choice to end his life so palpable, and then how we get the "run" repetition at the end of the episode, as the shift from the slow, sad, almost lullaby-esque start of the song to the ending that feels like Ed's desperation for things to be over just pounding through the scene?

"Seabird" is my favorite, probably - "lonely seabird, you've been away from land too long" playing as Ed returns to the ship with Stede after his impossible bird speech is just incredible.

It's honestly incredible. Not a single flop. You can take a selection of any songs used in this show and analyze the fuck out of them and you will find things to echo the themes and what characters are going through. Now whenever I hear needle drops in other shows/movies I'm just like ":/ more effort please"

[allbark-no-bite]

december and devotion.

jake seresin x reader (wc. 1.4k)

summary: Jake keeps his promise. or the fic where Jake comes home just in time for Christmas

warnings: none, just fluff

author’s note: just a little short and sweet reunion for you guys before christmas. this can totally be read alone from ‘Marriage and Honor’ but it makes this fic that much better if you read the other one before :)

(read parts one and three here: marriage and honor, cats and christmas)

————————————————————————

You get Jake back exactly eleven months to the day that he deployed. Eleven months since you dropped him off on the carrier and hugged him goodbye. Eleven months since you fell in love and then had to let it go on the same day. Eleven excruciating months of endless emails and long phone calls at any and all hours of the night. 

It didn't matter if it was four am or four pm, you were just happy to hear his voice. It meant that he was conscious and breathing and that meant he was alive. Sometimes the two of you would schedule a time to call when Jake knew he would have a few minutes to spare, and when the call didn't come you would just sit by the phone and wait for hours. You knew that things happened and sometimes Jake just got busy. But that was the thing, things did happen, and so far you were 2-0 for those things playing out in your favor. 

When he did get caught up, Jake was always sure to call you back, even if it was hours later, and he'd poke fun at you for working yourself up so much. 'C'mon baby, it was just a little air strike. Nothing for you to worry about,' he'd tease, both of you choosing to ignore the apprehension in his voice in favor of finding humor in the moment because that meant getting to murmur 'I miss you's and 'I miss you too's for just the few extra seconds that the call allowed. 

The holidays rolling around makes Jake's deployment even more lonely. Despite being much closer to home now that you're living on base, you don't have much family left and Thanksgiving ends up consisting of you and the orange cat that you've still yet to tell Jake about. You're not sure he's going to believe you accidentally adopted a cat, the cat that now sleeps on Jake's side of the bed every night. 

Regardless, having another body in the house makes things a little more bearable as Thanksgiving comes and goes and soon enough it's Christmas time on base. Just when you were starting to think that Jake's deployment was going by quicker than you thought, December hits and the days start crawling by. 

Thankfully for you, Christmas comes early.

December 24th.

Is the text you receive from Jake bright and early one random Monday morning. You hadn't been expecting to hear from him for another few days, and when you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach drops. But as soon as you read his message, you know exactly what it means. 

Jake was coming home for Christmas. 

The port is more crowded and even colder than what you expected it to be at six am on Christmas Eve. It's full of families and children bundled in various layers of scarves and coats, holding signs and cards, anxiously waiting to welcome their service member back home. The atmosphere is incomparable to anything that you've ever experienced. It's full of hope, and happiness, and maybe even a little heartbreak.

You’re feeling a little bit of all three yourself. It's been in the back of your mind that despite having had two brothers in the Navy, you've never gotten to do this. You've never gotten the chance to welcome anyone back home. 

The sound of a horn blowing pulls you from your thoughts. 

Shouts of celebration erupt and children break out into runs, screaming with excitement, and you watch as soldiers begin pouring out from the entrance of the ship, a sea of white amidst the crowd. You linger behind as families around you reunite, feeling a bit lost having come by yourself. You watch as returning fathers gleefully scoop up their children and proud fathers tearily welcome home their daughters. 

Walking a bit closer to the ship, you glance around you in hopes of spotting a familiar face. You catch sight of Javy and his family a bit off to your right, and he waves to you with a quick smile but offers no indication of where Jake might be. You walk a little further, passing almost every member of the Dagger squad, until you finally come to a stop back in the middle of the crowd. With so many people all around you, you begin to wonder how you're ever going to find Jake.

"Looking for someone?"

It's the same voice that you've been straining to hear over some crappy military base service line for months. Only this time it's ten feet away and not across the world. 

You spin on your heels, bolting into Jake's arms quicker than you've probably ever moved in your entire life. You don't even take the time to take him in before you're burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, your body clinging to his like he's going to disappear at any given second. Jake has to drop his bag to catch you, wrapping both arms around your waist and shuffling backwards a few steps so that he doesn't lose his balance. His skin is warm despite the chill outside and you revel in the press of his cheek to your own, your cold nose nuzzled into his ear.

Jake holds you for god knows how long, his body swaying occasionally with yours in the embrace. Eventually you loosen your grip around his neck, as much as it pains you to do so, but you want to see his face so you pull away, your hand moving to either side of his face to get a good look at him.

Jake's green eyes shine at you in what you can only describe as pure adoration. He looks a bit tired, maybe even a bit older than he did when he left, but he's still the Jake you said goodbye to all those months ago. The lines by his eyes still crinkle when he smiles and his cheeks dimple right along with them. 

Jake says nothing as you examine him, just smiles at you warmly and allows you this moment to yourself. He'll have plenty of time to kiss you later.

His hair is much shorter than what you're used to, almost certainly to adhere to military regulations, and your fingers scratch at his scalp in a moment of wistful melancholy. "Your hair," is all you can say, fond tears threatening to spill over your eyes. 

A laugh rumbles from his chest and his eyes crinkle as he takes your hand in his own. "It's gonna grow back in no time, baby. I promise." 

You're not genuinely sad about his hair and he knows this, it's just that there so much to say after eleven months of being apart and not enough time in the moment to say it. 

So instead of trying to find the words, Jake just squeezes your body against his once more before setting you down to grab his duffle bag. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, the other bearing the load of his over stuffed duffle. As happy as he is to has his girl back in his arms, all he wants is to go home and have you to himself. And maybe get some sleep. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you home. It's too cold for you to be standin' out here."

Only when he starts walking away, you don't budge. Your feet are planted into the ground and he ends up a few steps ahead of you once he looks back. Jake turns around, duffle bag in one hand and the other held out to you in question. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. I've only been back for about five minutes," he laughs. He's mostly teasing, but you pick up on the faintest hint of hesitation in his voice. 

You cross your arms, trying to keep yourself from smiling. "You're forgetting something."

A look of confusion crosses his face before his brows lift and his smile returns. Chuckling, Jake drops his duffle and walks back towards you, taking your face inbetween his hands like you had held his a few moments ago. He can't help the massive grin on his face as he leans into kiss you. 

Your cheeks are flushed and cold but they heat right back up as his mouth captures yours. His lips are soft against yours but the kiss is firm and sure—tender but packed with all of the longing that cannot be expressed with words. You immediately miss the warmth of Jake's lips when he pulls away.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs, so close that he may as well have been speaking it into the kiss. 

"Merry Christmas," you murmur back, smiling back against his mouth as you lean in to kiss him again.

[lestappenforever]

So, I’m like a realist, right? Sure, yes, I ship people from time to time but I know it’s just for funsies. So, I saw a lestappen edit last week and was like “hey cute guys, what’s up with these two? I better check it out.” and have fallen into a bit of a rabbit hole it seems. So I’m back in the real world now, where Max is in a long term relationship and Charles has a girlfriend, and am wondering: how does one explain Max’s behaviour? Does he just have a friend-crush on Charles? Has he always wanted to be friends with him since they were young and it was just hard since they’ve been rivals for so long? Does he envy him maybe since his father wasn’t a pos and he still turned into a great driver? Is it a “it’s lonely at the top” kind of situation, where he’s never been able to make many friends his own age? (I’ve seen Charles with a bunch of friends outside of racing, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max with any, but that could be on me.) I mean, a blind person could see that Max takes every opportunity to talk to him or be close to him and he knows stuff about him I’d personally be too embarrassed to admit (like getting his “stupid” quote exactly right or knowing about the twitch thing with his girlfriend forgetting her keys, etc.). I guess I’m looking for the actual non-shippy explanation for this behaviour cause it fascinates me. What are your two cents on this?

Hi anon, and welcome to the world of Lestappen! We're happy to have you. ❤️

I will preface this by saying that shipping is solely for fun, and I don't actually believe Max and Charles are in a secret relationship or anything of the sort. The majority of Lestappen shippers on Tumblr are on the same page about this, with some exceptions, but there are exceptions to anything. And a big part of shipping is speculating, being delusional about them, and overanalyzing things.

Now, in terms of a non-shipping explanation as to why these two behave the way they do around each other, I think it's a combination of all the reasons you've already listed. And the thing about Max and Charles is that they have known each other for so many years. They have been in each other's orbit, in one way or another, for the majority of their lives, and there is no denying that they have seen each other as one of — if not the — biggest rival they've had since they were children. Despite the fact that a lot of the current drivers on the grid have raced each other at some point before F1, there doesn’t seem to be any of them that have the same sort of rivalry that Max and Charles have, which goes so far back. And that kind of bond is one that I believe sticks with you forever.

Now this is not a delusional take at all, as this quote by Armando Filini, manager of the Maranello Kart, the first team for which Leclerc raced, proves: “They were always fighting. It didn't matter if they were competing in a tie or in a final, if it was raining or if the track was dry. Once we were in Genk, Belgium, in the first free practice, and they went on track. Charles and Max met, began to push each other and almost hit each other, with the risk of being left out. Jos Verstappen and I were glued to the fence to look at them and he turned around and said to me: 'These two will fight forever. They will fight even in F1′. A prophecy”.

Even though Max and Charles obviously haven’t been best friends for the majority of the time they've known each other, and they've only started building what appears to be a genuine friendship in the last few years, they share a connection that has been evident to people around them since they were little.

Max's comment from last season where he said that he wasn't surprised both him and Charles were sitting in that press conference together because he always thought that if he made it into F1, Charles would too, is just another testament to how tied together they actually are. And Charles' fond recollections of their karting days in the past season shows that it's a mutual thing: that Charles feels that same bond with Max that Max feels with him. And I think this is the whole baseline for why they've never been able to be normal about or around each other: because they go so far back and their lives are so intertwined that I honestly don't think either of them is fully capable of treating the other as just any other colleague or friend, because they don't see each other that way. They're something more, and by that I don't mean they're secretly in love with each other — they just have this bond that goes beyond normal friendship, forged through years of rivalry, envy, conflict, mutual growth and respect, and eventual friendship.

I have a childhood friend sort of like that: obviously not with the rivalry and drama that comes with the surroundings in which Max and Charles met and grew up, but someone that I share a bond with that I don't share with any of my other friends, old or new, and it's honestly my most treasured friendship because it has helped shape me as a person in a profound sort of way. He's not my closest friend and not the friend I talk to the most since we live on different sides of the country and our paths haven’t crossed much in the past few years, as is often the case when you grow up and become an independent adult. But when I do talk to him and hang out with him, it kind of feels like coming home. And to me, it seems like Max and Charles share that same type of bond.

This is just my personal take as I obviously don't know Max or Charles, and this is all based off of watching their interactions and watching their relationship develop over the past few years, as well as deepdiving into their history in the past. But this is the explanation that makes sense to me.

[euphoniumpets]

the second choice | Nikolai Lantsov x Starkov! reader x Kaz Brekker

Summary: You've always been the second choice and know when you began to grow feelings for nikolai, he chose to propose a marriage to your sister. However, it is not what it seems when you began to grow tired for being the second choice.

Requested? Yes by @kateswone: Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pinning and in the rain confession in the end ?

A/N: decided to make it with a starkov! reader in this one and got this inspiration from little women. Listen, i really like Alina in the show and the book but no hate on her in this fic. I made this fic an angst. Wanna have a part two where the reader meets Kaz Brekker?

PART TWO

Warnings: angst and both of them being oblivious to each other.

In all your life, you've always been the second choice to everything. You noticed all of this while your sister was the oldest one and you were merely in the background. You weren't the one who was in the center as your older sister was.

It was at a point where you enjoyed being in the background. You didn't had to deal with the drama and the chaos where your sister and Mal created back in Keramzin. You were a lonely kid and enjoyed your presence.

That all changed when you began to grow feelings for your childhood friend, Mal. He was everything to you since he was always there for you and Alina. He always kept an eye for you, knowing the smallest piece of what you liked and didn't like.

When you grew up and began to be older, you couldn't hold your feelings anymore when the three of you was about to split up in the First Army. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him and being seperated for so long. At that point, you confessed your love for him, only to know that he didn't felt the same and had feelings for Alina.

It broke your heart to pieces, knowing that he had feelings for Alina. You didn't blame her, at one point, you knew that Alina and Mal deserved for each other. But it hurt everytime when you would see the longing in Mal's eyes for her when the three of you were around.

When the three of you split up while Mal was in another unit with the First Army and you and Alina was together as a map maker, you kept your distance for him. Of course, you tried to pretend that didn't happen and tried your best to keep your friendship, but it did hurt.

You and Mal didn't tell Alina about your confession, all though, you had your suspicion that she always knew about it somehow. The three of you didn't spoke about it either.

When Alina was announced to be the Sun Summoner, you knew that your life wouldn't be in the same. You would be in the shadows, alone in the background like when you were children and Alina would be in the center, trying to save the world and doing her best.

Warming up to Aleksander for the first time, you felt that the two of you understood each other. How it felt like to be lonely, hiding in the shadow and eventually, you began to fall for him, just as you did for Mal.

You told yourself that you wouldn't fall for somebody again because you couldn't experience the pain you felt. However, you didn't listen and the heart what it wants, right? And you knew deep down that Aleksander fell for Alina even when you didn't knew that he had the same feelings about you.

But you already knew his choice that his choice would always would be Alina.

And the betrayal that happened when Aleksander expanded the Fold, used the white Stag and Alina's power, you three were on the run again. You knew as long as Alina would be the Sun Summoner, there would be no peace when the Darkling is alive to hunt the three of you.

Not after what happened back at the Fold. So, when you were looking a way out from Novyi Zem, you couldn't believe your luck when you saw a private ship that could be bargained.

Meeting Sturmhond was... strange. He was an odd pirate, a little too young to be a pirate to be exact and most people would say that the pirates would be rude and dirty. But you couldn't put your finger on this one as he helped you, Mal, and Alina to take down the Fold with his crew.

You were a quiet one, but Sturmhond enjoyed your quick wits whenever he would throw a comment toward you. It became a banter between you two that made everybody in the ship roll their eyes and grow annoyed by your remarks.

You only believed that Sturmhond was only playing you, but little did you knew that he had fallen in love with you. He believed that you were capable for so much more than standing in the background. He noticed that you didn't like much attention and that was why he threw snarky comments to see your reaction.

And when he showed his identity for the first time, you didn't hesitate to punch him in the face for lying to you.

After he revealed to be Nikolai Lantsov, the prince of Ravka, you kept your distance from him. You noticed the longing in Nikolai's eyes that he wanted to talk to you, but you ignored it.

And this time, you let Alina and Mal do the work for once while you was in the background. During the meeting when they got David in, you felt his eyes on you the whole time.

You knew David back at the little palace, you liked him, but after everything with Aleksander, you didn't trust him anymore. After leaving Mal and Alina to talk with themselves, you heard Nikolai's footsteps trailing behind you at the Spinning Wheel.

You knew that he was trying to catch up with you, and you only tried to walk away from him with hurried steps. ''Y/N, stop,'' You heard him from behind, but you only kept walking but stopped when you reached on a dead end.

You groaned with frusteration and annoyance and was about to turn around when he was already in front of you. ''Can we talk?'' He asked, uncertianly. You paused, knowing that the two of you would have this talk sooner or later.

You nodded and let him talk. ''I know that I haven't been honest about my identity,'' He spoke. ''But I hope that we can start over,'' Nikolai replied.

''Did you say it was true? Back at the ship?'' You asked him, remembering all of the times you spent with him when everybody was asleep. ''You are always going to be my first,'' Nikolai spoke and smiled softly at you.

''And what about I said of my family is true,''

''Sturmhond and I, we are the same,''

''So, I just supposed to call you Moi Tsar, then?'' You asked and crossed your arms. Nikolai chuckled. ''Just Nikolai,'' He responded.

''Please, I just don't want our relationship to be different because I am the prince,'' Nikolai said to you, and you sighed. ''Fine, just for this one, I'm forgiving you,''

''I knew that you already was softening up to me,'' Nikolai spoke with a teasing grin on his face.

''Shut up,'' You commented.

During the next day when Nikolai had announced to be Alina's husband, you was surprised when Alina would accept the proposal. You couldn't believe your own sister since she loved Mal and you had feelings for Nikolai.

You saw the distraught expression on Mal's expression during the dinner, but you didn't spoke about the marriage the whole evening.

And when it was nighttime and everybody was going to bed, you found yourself to be in front of Nikolai.

''Y/n-''

''Don't,'' You cut him off, shaking your head with disbelief. ''Don't blame her, this is just a political strategi,'' Nikolai defended himself, making you scoff at him. You felt your heart break again, just as it had done million times with Mal and Aleksander.

He looked nervous, an emotion you very rarely saw him during the time you spent with him. ''You had this plan all along, didn't you?'' You asked him. ''Ever since you saw us on the ship, knowing that Alina would be a good alliance to you,'' You replied.

You began to pace and the information was almost too much for you. You thought that you were going to be stronger after every rejection that you had, but you were torn into pieces. ''When were you planning on telling me this?'' You asked.

''Or you didn't want to tell me at all?''

''I was planning to find the right moment,'' Nikolai answered quickly and you shook your head. ''You had plenty of these moments,'' You snapped.

''I know,'' He responded. ''And you want to be king and you want Alina to be your queen,'' You responded.

''I don't want her to be my queen,'' Nikolai spoke. ''Yet, the two of you are going to be married,'' You told him with a firm voice.

''But this doesn't mean anything between me and her! You will always be my first choice,'' Nikolai replied. ''My heart will always belong to you,'' Nikolai admitted.

''Don't say that, you don't mean it,'' You warned him, stopping yoru tracks and faced him. ''I mean it, I love you, and I want to be with you,''

''You can't be with me if you are going to marry Alina or someone else,'' You snapped. You watched as his eyes meet the floor.

''How about be my mistress?'' You stopped and looked at him with shock and then your eyes flashed with fury. He couldn't seriously mean by that. You didn't want to be in that state again when you have to watch him and Alina be in love with each other while you was in the back ground all over again.

''No, I won't do that,''

''I'm not asking for you to be,'' Nikolai responded. ''Then you would let me be in the back ground - again,''

''I want you!'' He shouted, stepping closer to you with anger in his eyes before stopping himself and looked at you like he would burn the whole world for you.

''But it's more complicated than that,'' He responded with a calmer voice this time and you shook your heart. ''You can marry my sister for all I care, and I won't be standing in your way,''

''Just like I've always done,'' You whispered, as you felt the tears streaming down your face.

''Y/N-'' Nikolai begged, grabbing your hand to sto you from going away from him, but you just shrugged his hand away and walked through the door, not sparing a single glance.

That night, you didn't waste a second to run away from the spinning wheel.

[spitdrunken]

Cream and Ice (Candy Queen x Reader / Winter King x Reader)

wordcount: 13k, NSFW. summary: As the ruler of an entire kingdom, the Winter King is a busy man. You'll spend the rest of your life being thankful to him for rescuing you from the freezing cold as he did. Still, it does get lonely, sometimes. The Candy Queen is even more eager for company than you, and at least twice as lonely. You've been 'kidnapped' by her more times than you can count, and have grown to appreciate her company. All of the Winter King's warnings you've long since disregarded, since you've never actually gotten hurt. When, one day, you bite off more than you can chew—or, rather, swallow,—the Winter King is the only one who can save you. See the full tags on ao3, here!

The snow crunches underneath your feet, the cold wind penetrating even through the many clothes the Winter King has provided you with. The cold had never been a factor he had to consider for himself, or his subjects, but you are a different story. It’s fine, you know you’ll be leaving this place soon, even if just for a little bit. As you walk the streets of the Winter Kingdom, you feel the inhabitants’ gazes follow your forms, and hushed whispers trail in your wake. 

It’s fine if they see. You can never be quiet here, and you need the Winter King to hear about your departure eventually. Otherwise, he’ll never come to pick you up. And you’ve never actually returned from Candy’s, as she’s told you to call her, home on your own. 

You don’t know exactly when being kidnapped by Candy turned into something else, but it has. There’s no need for her to put you in a cage anymore, and the two of you actually chat. Sure, you have the Winter King, but he gets busy, and the rest of his subjects are… You don’t know how to put it. There is a hollowness behind many of their eyes. It’s nice to have someone else to talk to, even if her ways are rather eccentric. But, really, who are you to judge in this situation? You are not from this world, and your definition from sanity might not align with the one the Land of Ooo. Even then, the many warnings you’d received from the Winter King would suggest otherwise.

He can warn you about her obsession and unpredictability, but he never seems particularly concerned about her. Maybe you should be, as a human without magic, but being ‘rescued’ has grown into such a nonchalant affair that you can’t be bothered. She doesn’t seem much interested in anything besides the Winter King, so you don’t think she really cares about hurting you. Her mood often swings, yes, but it also isn’t hard to flip her back around. 

This is what you think about, as you wait underneath the pine-scented trees. The smell is pervasive, practically too strong, when you are standing underneath clumps of them. You have to walk to the edge of the kingdom, otherwise the alarms would go off, and that would create too much of a fuss for your liking. The Winter King is busy right now. You guess he’s fiddling with something in his laboratory, or ‘fixing’ something about his kingdom that no one but him had ever seen issue with. 

You hear Candy before you see her, as you do every time. Her presence is accompanied by the pounding of her legs on the thread mill, the groaning of the subjects that carry her, and bouts of laughter that ring through the air. The same time you see the contraption she calls an aircraft soar through the air, she yells out your name while waving both of her arms at you. 

“Hiiii!” She says as she lowers her contraption. “C’mere, we’ve gotta go quick!” 

As soon as you approach, your own greeting ready on your tongue, the arm on her machine snags you up the floor, and chucks you into the air. The yell you let out only makes her laugh harder, but she catches you in her arms without effort, and puts you on the floor, your back resting against one of the candy canes that decorate the side of the ship. She is a lot stronger than she looks.  Your heart is still busy trying to escape your ribcage, and you wheeze out a breath. 

“Please never do that again,” you tell her. One of your hands is firmly wrapped around the candy cane for support.

She winks at you and sticks her tongue out. “No promises, sorry! Need to get home, quick!” As she starts to run again, she keeps her gaze focused on you. You don’t know how she manages to keep an eye on you and steer the machine at the same time, but you don’t try to think too hard about it. Just as you try not to think about the fact this whole thing is made up out of living creatures. When you’d asked her about it, Candy had told you that they definitely agreed to this, they always wanna do everything for her! 

“Did you get the gooooods?” She drawls out the last word as if she’s drunk, bouncing on the balls of her feet, learning over towards you. From experience, you know that she’ll start patting you down if you don’t hand them over soon enough. As she stops running, the machine stutters and loses altitude, only rising again when she lets out a ‘whoops!’ and starts running again. That’s the second time today you’ve felt the ground fall away underneath your feet, and you’d like it to be the last. Perhaps you should really start reconsidering whether these visits or worth it. 

But Candy smiles wide at you, giving you her undivided attention, and even though you know she cares more about your usual company than you, you’ve still become a little fond of her. She doesn’t have anyone, it seems. If things had gone differently for you, you would have been just as alone as her. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. “I’ll give them once we’re at your place, okay?” Your nails scratch at the smooth surface of your one lifeline on this ship. “You know flying makes me a bit nervous.” The wind whips past your face. Even as you are higher off the ground than you were before, it’s warmer than the one blowing through the Winter Kingdom. 

Though she doesn’t agree one way or the other, Candy’s legs moving even faster are a clear indication she understands the program. “You say you’re scared or whatever, but you get on every time anyway! They say I’m the crazy one, but you should make up your mind, too!” With the back of her hand, she wipes the sweat off of her brow. 

You can’t say it’s ever the smoothest ride, but it’s always a fast one. The machine lurches left and right as you land, and you cling on for dear life, as it crashes into the ground. As the groans of the banana-people, whatever their name may be, ring out, you know you’ve made a safe landing. Without fail, Candy clambers down her servants without sparing a glance or a thought towards them, digging her heel into their faces and mushing them up. You’d jump down if it weren’t too high. You’re forced to do the same, but you at least think you’re a bit more polite about it, since you apologise. 

Candy waits for you in front of her door. “So? So?” Candy leans in close towards you, standing on the tips of her toes. Her eyes are blown wide and twinkle with excitement, her nose almost poking yours. It’s endearing, despite knowing the reason for her delight. 

You dig around in your pockets, and her a few pictures you made from the Winter King. They are better than the ones she has adorning your walls, as those were made in secret. These weren’t. The Winter King is always more than happy to pose for a picture, and he’ll even ask you to take some if he’s made himself a new outfit, to most accurately judge himself from every angle. Perhaps it’s not the most moral thing to do, feeding into her obsession like this, but it’d continue regardless of what you did. 

“Here you go,” you say, handing her the little stack. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squeals, hugging the pictures to her chest and twirling around on the tips of her toes. A few pieces of candy shoot out from the tips of her fingers. They clatter to the floor, completely unnoticed by her. “You always get such good ones! I loooove it! Gotta put them up right now!”

She skips like a schoolgirl all the way towards her room, and you have to keep up at a brisk walking pace. Every time you enter, you try to ignore the giant cage in the corner of the room, but you never quite succeed. 

“Put them in your diary, and not on the wall, okay?” She practically has a shrine dedicated to the Winter King on her wall, but you don’t need your pictures to be added to that. You have no interest in answering his questions about how she got her hands on them. 

“Yeah, yeah, mom.” You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “’S not like you gotta tell me that every time.” 

You huff out a breath of air through your nose. “If he sees them, that’s the end of it. You’ll have to start taking them yourself again.”

As she walks past her keyboard, her back turned to you, she flings her fist on it. The discordant noise clangs together, loud, but harmless. “Fiiiiine. Yours aren’t big enough for posters, anyway. They’d look bad next to mine.”

Candy flops down on her bed, landing on her stomach. She reaches underneath her pillow for a diary that has become a familiar sigh to you. Pictures stick from the borders of the pages from every side, and multiple of them are stuck together with pink gum. The front has something scrawled on it that you’ve never been able to make out. You watch as she shifts through your pictures, sighing longingly at every single one of them, while kicking her feet in the air. To stick them to the paper, she pulls a piece of gum out of her hair. It’d surprised you the first time you saw it, but it’s clear it doesn’t hurt her whatsoever. 

“Do you like them?” You ask, and she hums loudly in response. It really is surprising she doesn’t try to maul you over how much time you spend with her ‘love’, but you’ve come to terms with the fact you’ll never be able to follow her line of thought. 

As you watch her like this, so hopelessly head over heels for someone who sees her as nothing more than a nuisance, your heart clenches. The Winter King describes her as the Kingdom’s sole and greatest enemy. He derides her unpredictability, her madness, as he calls it, and her twisted affection. But as you’ve spend time here in the Candy Kingdom, you’ve come to think that her behaviour is simply part of her species. You’ve never met a subject of hers, servant or otherwise, that acted unlike her. If that simply is the way she was born, the way she’s supposed to be, you can’t bring yourself to blame her for it. The Winter King always seems to leave her clutches unscathed, the same as you have. 

You sit down on the floor next to her bed, leaning the back of your head against her mattress. The cover sticks a little your hair. You stare at the wall opposite of her bed, plastered with images of the Winter King. The sea of blue stands in harsh contrast with pinks of the rest of her decor. Without thinking, you sigh. 

Wouldn’t it be so much better if she had an interest in someone else, if she pursued someone had a chance of returning her feelings? There has to be a perfect match out there for her, in this whole wide world. You just know that it isn’t the Winter King. He won’t care about her, not ever. He’s spelled it out for her so many times. But time and time again, she pursues him in her own way, and time and time again, she is rejected. You can’t grasp how she can cope with it, given her feelings are so all-consuming. 

“Candy?” You crane your head upwards, and you can just barely see her legs still swishing in the air. 

“Wait. I’m having a moment.” She lets out a scream that she muffles with her pillow. The whole bed bounces up and down behind as she kicks strongly into the mattress, squealing the whole time. One of her feet whizzes just over your head as she rolls from left to right. She must have found a picture she particularly likes. You’re curious which one it is, but she doesn’t let you look at them once she’s glued them to her diary. She exhales loudly, and the bed gives a final creak. 

“Okay. Moment over.”

You know you are treading onto uneven ground here. One of the first lessons the Winter King taught you upon taking you in, was the look of a frozen lake that might give away underneath your feet. Now, it feels like you are jumping onto one of the exact spots he told you to avoid. To the right of your head, you see the tip of her boot peeking over the side of her bed. It bobs up and down, up and down. 

“What do you like so much about the Winter King, anyway?”

Her foot stops moving. The entire bed goes still. In tandem, you start to think of escapes out of this conversation. Candy, however, only hums in response. First in thought and, after a few seconds, she makes a silly little tune out of it. She must be working on a new original. Whenever she does, she can’t get it out of her head for days, or so she’s told you. 

“I dunno! That’s a mean question, ‘cause I can’t just pick one thing. I like… Everything! I think. I need us to be together, forever!” She sucks on her bottom lip, and releases it with a pop. “He’s stuck in my brain, like… A stick inside a lollipop! Part of the same thing.”  

You can feel her moving, but you still jump as Candy hangs over you, all at once. Her hair is almost like a wall with the way it hangs past your sides, caging you in between her and the bed. “But why do you wanna know so bad, hmmm?” She’s still smiling, and that’s a good thing. You think. With her being upside down, it’s difficult to tell if she’s really smiling in the first place, or baring her fangs. She squints at you. “What are you trying to do? You can’t have him. He’s mine, you ding dong!” 

Despite yourself, you freeze up. Those teeth of hers always look so much sharper up close. The familiar warnings, the ones that you could recite by heart at this point, ring out in your ear. Unlike the Winter King however, you’ve actually tried to hold a conversation with Candy before. You know how to handle her, in a sense, without the situation escalating any further.

Without hesitation, you stick out your finger, and press the tip of it to her nose. “Boop.”

There is a beat of silence. Then, she dissolves into a fit of giggles, her whole chest rising and falling with her laughter. You smile back at her. As she laughs harder, her whole physical form melts away into glowing, pink goo. You shudder as Candy drips down your shoulders and over the front of your shirt. Thankfully, that form of hers never leaves any residue. You’d have no clue how to explain those stains. All of her gathers up on the floor, in between your knees. You spread your legs wider, just as Candy forms back into her usual appearance.

“Boop!” The tip of her fingers finds your nose, just as you’d done moments prior. Her knees bump against the insides of your thighs, and her nose nearly pokes your cheek. With every inhale, all you can smell is cotton candy. You don’t mind the closeness. She is always clingy, albeit in her own way. “You’re so silly. I like that about you.” Candy tilts her head to the side, her smile and eyes widening. “But I was being serious.”

“I know you were,” you tell her. A packaged piece of candy dangles out of her hair, almost falling out, and you carefully push it back in. She doesn’t even blink. “I didn’t walk to talk about him, though. I wanted to talk about you, Candy.”

She blinks owlishly at you. The corners of her mouth droop, but she doesn’t quite loser her smile. She shakes her head, then opens her mouth, and starts to pick something out from between her teeth with her fingernail. Candy must have not been listening at all.

“Go on,” she says, proving you wrong. The words come out distorted, as she doesn’t bother to take her finger out of her mouth as she speaks. 

“I get that you really, really like the Winter King. Like, a lot. But don’t you think you could try and get over him, to find someone who’s better for you?”

Candy throws her head backs, and laughs. And laughs, and laughs. At the sudden jerk of her head, she cut an indent into her finger. She doesn’t bleed, however. Right in front of your eyes, her ‘skin’ merely closes shut again. Her laughter continues on, and its loud enough to make your ears ring. Every breath of hers is a desperate wheeze. With how much she’s shaking, you can only pity her ribs and guts. …If she has them, that is.

She sighs loudly as she sits upright again, and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s the hardest I’ve laughed in years! Better?! Lemme know when you find one!” She rests her elbow on her knee, then leans her cheek on her hand. “He’s the one I need.”

“But that doesn’t it hurt, always getting rejected?” You cannot stop the hint of desperation entering your voice. There has to be a better life for her out there, better than whatever this is. “You’re pretty, Candy. And sweet, too, obviously. I’m sure there’s someone out there, who can really appreciate you, and who is more like you. I think you deserve that. I… I want you to be happy.” With Candy, you’ve learned to spell out what you’re trying to say as literally as possible, lest she misunderstand. 

You pity her, this girl, alone in her kingdom, with no one but her servants for company, endlessly chasing a man who will never give her the time of day. She deserves understanding. It has to be a lonely existence, going without it.     Candy’s expression shifts, her face going entirely blank. “I can’t be. Not until I have him.” As soon as the moment comes, it’s over, and you have no time to process it. She bursts into high-pitched giggles and slings an arm around the back of your neck before throwing herself firmly into your lap. 

“Candy!” You sputter, trying to turn your head away from her. As soon as you try though, she places a hand on your cheek, and forces you to look her in the eye again. Your face heats up underneath her touch. She pinches your skin between two of her fingers, and pulls on it. She ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’s at the consistency and texture of your skin. You swallow. Do you hate this? …No, you hesitantly admit to yourself. It’s definitely not the kind of message you were trying to get across, though!

Her eyes slide half-shut, her smile lopsided and soft around the edges. “Hehe. I thought you wanted to talk about me, but what you really wanted was me, huuh?” She puts both of her hands on your face, and squishes. “I’m prettyyyy, I’m sweeeeeet! You said so!” She repeats after you, before bursting into giggles again. “I’m sorry, sugar, but my heart has already been stolen!” One of her hands slowly slides down your cheek. 

“Um… Well, what I was trying to say was— Mrph!” She slaps her palm over your mouth, cutting off the rest of your sentence.

“No need to say anything more, baby!” Candy laughs again. She leans forward, burying her nose in the crook of her neck, and inhaling deeply. “Hmmm, but I do like you. You’re a lot warmer. But you smell a little like him… Like chocolate milk, and pine trees— But still different.”

So many conflicting thoughts and feelings are rushing through you. Your face is burning up, and your stomach’s tied in knots. Wherever she touches you, her skin sticks to yours. Even as you squirm underneath her, Candy doesn’t budge in the slightest. You’re trapped. You gasp as you feel one of her fangs brush against your throat, and you can feel her grinning against your skin. 

“Candy, you’re a bit too close…!” You squeak as you wheeze out the air in your lungs. She sticks her tongue out, and licks a stripe up the side of your neck, slow and deliberate. 

Of course, it’s this exact moment that the Winter King makes his dramatic entrance, with a bang and a flourish. It’s nothing different from what you expect during your bi-weekly rescue. He throws his hair back as little pieces of ice sparkle in the air around him. His eyes are closed, one leg in front of the other. One hand is firmly closed around the hilt of his blade. All of this you can just barely make out in between Candy’s gravity-defying hair. 

“Fair maiden, I have come to…” As the Winter King opens his eyes, the rest of his sentence dies in his throat. You’ve never seen him caught quite this off-guard before. The tip of his blade, that he’d just pulled from its sheath, droops and points to the floor. His mouth is hanging open. You’d spend more time burning the image into your mind, if 90% of your brain wasn’t busy wishing you could melt into a puddle on the floor like Candy could. He shakes his head, in a jerky, twitchy fashion, like he’s forcefully pulling himself back to reality.  

Candy dislodges herself from your throat, smiling up at you. “It’s always a good idea to take you first! My baby always stops by, and then I get to see the both of you… If I just take him, you’d never show up!” You have to admit that she’s completely right about that observation. 

“Unhand her, you fiend!” However much he’d been rattled before, the Winter King easily slips back into his character. His pose is, once again, as poised as ever. His eyes drift from yours to Candy, and back up again. “What’s the meaning of this?” He continues, his voice a lot more softer. It lacks his usual flair or dramatics and, for that exact reason, you swallow.

Candy detaches herself from your neck, and winks at you. “One moment, sugar.” She folds herself backward, landing on her hands, and looking at the Winter King while upside down. You watch with a mixture of horror and fascination. Whatever is inside her body, it can’t be a spine. She’s found the one way to look her ‘beloved’ in the eye, while continuing to straddle you. 

“No meaning! She just told me I’m pretty, heehee! And sweet, too. It was really, really nice!” You can practically hear the pout in her voice as she continues to speak. “You could be a bit nicer to me, too, baby! Really, your little snowflake is a lot sweeter than you— And, since you’re my husband, that’s just plain wrong!”

“Ah. Is she, now?” The Winter King smiles and tilts his head a little to the left. He takes a step forward, and then another. His sword he lowers back down to his side. Goosebumps rush up your arms and legs from the sudden shift in the room’s temperature. When you let out a shuddering sigh, your breath forms a puff of white smoke in the air. 

Right now, the Winter King unnerves you far more than Candy ever has. 

Candy allows him to approach, making grabby hands at his ankles as he gets near. He remains just barely outside of her reach. Rather than pay her any mind, his focus is centered solely on you. You’re pinned down underneath his gaze. You’re not actually scared, you chastise yourself, you shouldn’t be! The knots in your stomach, and the rising of the hair on your arms, all of it is from something else. It doesn’t make any sense. You’re guilty about losing the approval of the one who has done so much for you, who took you in when you had nowhere else to go, in this world that is so unfamiliar to you. That’s all there is to it.

“I don’t know what kind of cotton candy nonsense she’s been spinning inside your head, dear, but I’d say it’s time we head home. Don’t you agree?”

Your tongue is tied. Candy’s eyes are unfocused, one of her eyeballs rolled up to focus on the Winter King, while the other looks at you. She starts to giggle, grin widening far enough to show off all of her fangs. You don’t trust the look on her face. Being around him always brings out the worst in her, without fail. Her legs tighten around your waist, the fingers that had been resting on your thighs dig into the skin. In a single, fluid motion, Candy shoots back up, and slams her mouth against yours. 

“Mpphrph!” You cry out, eyes wide. Despite the unmistakable pressure of her lips against yours, it doesn’t feel like a kiss, exactly. She practically hit your lips with hers, and you feel like the skin is going to bruise. Even now, the pressure that she’s applying is far too strong to resemble anything intimate. Her aim hadn’t been quite right, either. Only about half of her mouth is actually over yours, and her fangs nick your bottom lip. She smiles against your mouth. 

Taking advantage of your surprise, she shoves her tongue in between your parted lips. It’s long and smooth, without any of the ridges or bumps of a human tongue. The flavour of it is saccharine, the kind of sweetness that makes you think of rotting teeth. It goes in deep, so deep that it has your gag reflex protesting around her. Before the situation goes dire, however, the intrusion dissolves. It’s so contrary to your expectations, that your whole body shudders. Some of the thick substance, whatever it is, immediately slides down your throat. The tip of her tongue had been poking around down there, after all. You feel her smile against your mouth. 

The Winter King rips Candy away from you by the back of her clothes, and tosses her to the side like she weighs nothing. She bounces twice on the floor, before lying still. She’s still laughing, so she’s fine, you think. You shiver from the cold. The floor cracks underneath the Winter King’s feet, pieces of eyes shaped like crystals sprouting from the floor like flowers. His glasses sit slightly askew on the tip of his nose. 

You speak, before he has the chance to say anything. “I feel… A little weird…” You say, head lolling to one side as if you’d lost control over your own muscles. Your head feels light and loose, connected to reality only by the thinnest of threads, while your skin feels alight and sensitive. All at once, it is purely and utterly overwhelming. A drop of drool slides down your chin, though you swore you had your mouth closed.

A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitches. Still, his smile does not fade. “Snowflake, dear. Please open your mouth for me.” Your head feels woozier by the second. Where you were cold moments prior, a thrumming heat has settled underneath your skin. You giggle. Without thinking, you open your mouth wide. He kneels in front of you. 

The Winter King drags the tip of his pointer finger over your tongue. It’s so cool, it’s such a relief. You sigh out at the touch, your eyes sliding shut. When you open them again, though your eyes are still half-lidded, he is staring at his finger, brow furrowed. There’s a light pink sheen over the blue of his skin, shimmering in the light. You have no idea what it is. 

He sighs, heavily and dramatically. “Diagnosis: This is bad.” He places two of his hands on your face, and you shiver with delight. You let your head hang to the side, leaning into his side. For a moment, a flicker of a smile returns to his face. “You’re burning up. Okay, I know it’s going to be a little difficult, but you have to try for me, okay?” You nod. You have no idea what he’s asking for. “Okay. You’re going to try and think: Did you swallow any of it?” His fingers press hard into your cheeks. 

“Um… Maybe? I think so…” A thick fog is blanketing your every thought. Pushing your way through it is like trudging through mud, or running on sand. “She kissed me pretty deeply. I remember that. I think I was about to gag.” As soon as you can, you give up your efforts on trying to be coherent, and just nuzzle into his hands. 

The Winter King gives you a little pat on the cheek before letting go. “Thank you.” 

He straightens up, and any calm on his expression immediately melts away. The set of his face temporarily jolts you back to reality. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and mist wafts from his fingers. Instinctively, you scramble backwards, but your back is already against the bed. There is nowhere else you can go. But none of his anger is directed at you. 

Every step towards Candy Queen is a stomp. Frost forms underneath each one of his footsteps, showing exactly where he has walked. You clamber onto Candy Queen’s bed. The whole thing is a sticky mess. It’s worth it to see what’s going on. The urge to keep your eyes on the Winter King is unbearable. You feel like you fall apart the further he is away from you. Your skin itches. 

“Candy Queen,” he practically hisses out her name. “I do not care how much of a nuisance you are to me. I know you will remain that way for as long as the both of us are alive. I can tolerate her being taken, as long as I can pick her up safe and sound. But this… Feeding a mere, poor human Candy essence? Making her swallow it?” He takes another loud step, and the floor cracks underneath his feet. “Do you want her dead? Is that it? The corruption levels on someone with little to no magic exposure are far too high…!” With every word, the pitch of his voice rises. 

Candy lies on her back, lazily rotating her legs in the air. “You like her more than me. I thought I’d make her more like myself!”

The Winter King runs his fingers through his hair, almost tugging, and then groans. “I don’t even know why I’m saying any of this. Why I even bother with the likes of you.” 

Candy laughs once again. “You’re talking to me, because you likeee—” 

“Stop laughing!” His voice thunders around the room, and you shrink back. For a moment, his teeth sharpen, and his hair lifts up and moves around as if blown by an invisible wind. In the blink of an eye, Candy’s entire body is encased in ice. He breathes heavily, then laughs. “I know you’ll survive that. It wouldn’t be the first time. Your servants will thaw you out, eventually.”

Your fingers are digging into the fabric of your clothes. You feel like a block of ice has settled in your stomach. You might be out of it, you might be feeling a bit sick, but this is too intense to pass in front of your eyes without your notice. It feels like a bucket full of ice-cold water got dumped over you while you were fast asleep, a rude awakening to reality.

The Winter King takes a stumbling step back, and grabs at his face with both hands, patting down both of his cheeks. You shuffle back. For the first time, you are scared of the power that flows through his veins. It’s not something that can only create. That, in front of you, the Winter King only makes sparkles in the air, and paths for his subjects to walk on, doesn’t mean that it can’t be turned against others, too. It’s much more than the flurries of snowflakes he amuses you with when you’re bored or homesick. The further you scramble back from him, the further the feeling inside you solidifies. 

He turns on his heel and strides towards you, placing both of his hands on the foot-end of the bed, leaning forward. His eyes have always fascinated you. He has an iris and pupils like you, but they are always covered in a sheen of white. Like cataract. Still, always, you could see his eyes moving beneath this troubled layer. Now, his eyeballs are empty. There is nothing there for you to see. You tuck your legs towards you, as close as you can. 

“Princess!” He calls out, and even his voice sounds unlike his own. The Winter King tilts his head to the side, almost like he is hearing something far, far away. Then, he shakes his head, and blinks. Some of the light returns to his eyes. “No… What am I saying? I…” He visibly swallows. His fingers bunch up the bedsheets underneath his touch. He doesn’t advance any further towards you, and you are thankful for it.

“I’m sorry you’ve seen me in such a state today, snowflake. It’s unbecoming. But, please, don’t look at me like that, with such fear in your eyes. Wasn’t it I, who took you in, when you had nowhere else to go? Who gave you food, shelter, and company? My home is yours. If it weren’t for me…” He inhales, long and deep. “You can trust me. I’ve shown you that you can depend on me! What have I done for you to look at me so?”

“But… But you killed her.” You say, your voice trembling. Already, you can feel the adrenaline wearing off again. Your tongue growing sluggish, the ants moving underneath your skin. Barely, you suppress the urge to whimper.

“Pah!” He laughs, loud and short. “As if that could kill her. No, no— If it could, she’d be dead a long time ago. You wouldn’t be so eager to defend her, if you knew what kind of war is being waged inside your body right now, dear!” His voice goes up in pitch, desperation clinging to the words. Then, he seems to recompose himself, yet his words are more serious than you’ve ever heard him. 

In between the two of you, a shimmering illusion takes form in the air, one that you have seen so many times before. Usually, it pains quaint little images, from pine trees swishing gently in the trees, or his recreation from the supposed creatures around the Land of Ooo that he won’t let you see on your own. 

“As we speak, your own body is fighting itself. You can feel it, can’t you? Your skin hurts, and your thoughts are getting more and more difficult… It’ll only grow worse. That menace will turn you into a smiling, dimwitted wreck. The longer we wait, the more of yourself you’ll lose, dear. Believe me, I had every right to get upset for your sake.”

“I-is that an accurate depiction?!” You nearly squeak. 

The Winter King waves his hand. “Oh, I would call it more of an artistic one! Your situation is rather unique indeed, I had to take some liberties. But, yes, close enough.” 

Your head is swimming, your pulse quick, and your breaths even quicker. “Will I… Be okay?” But now that he has mentioned them, your symptoms only seem to grow worse by the second. Your skull is too heavy for your neck, your lips to heavy to keep closed. (And, somewhere inside you, the urge for him grows. You need to be near him. You need him to touch you. You need to be one with him.) 

   The Winter King lifts one arm into the air and flicks his wrist, almost as if he’s trying to flick your worries away. “Shh, of course you will!” He says with a sudden air of nonchalance that has your already muddled brain even more confused. “I have a laboratory for a reason! We will need to get there, though. Like, right now.” 

He walks over to the side of the bed. You no longer have any urge to turn away from him as he approaches. With every passing moment, you can feel the symptoms of the illness he described to you intensifying. It’s living, breathing proof that he’s telling the truth. You can’t forget the sight of Candy, frozen in a block of ice, on the ground. Still, he really has been the only one to ever come to your rescue. Today has thrown you off-balance, but you’re more scared of whatever parasite is wrecking its way through your body, than the man who has saved you countless times over.  

The Winter King reaches out to you, but seems to change his mind at the last moment. He turns around, going on one knee besides the bed, but with his back turned towards you. “Climb on,” he says, looking over his shoulder at you. “I know carrying you in my arms would be far more romantic and fitting, but I need to focus to get us home quickly.” 

You shuffle over, and as your arms wrap around his neck, and your legs around his waist, you feel worse and better at the same time. Physically, you are less uncomfortable. It’s like you have found the exact spot where your itch is, with the Winter King’s natural body temperature cooling down the flames lapping at your skin. At the same time, thinking clearly becomes so, so much harder. The scent of chocolate milk and pine trees, exactly as Candy had described him, fills your nose, and makes you melt. Involuntarily, you let out a whimper. 

“Poor thing,” the Winter King says as he gets up. With ease, despite the weight of you on his back. “Let’s get you home.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. Instead of walking, a pathway of ice forms right underneath the Winter King’s feet, and he skates over it with ease. Deftly, he maneuvers his way around the Candy Queen’s subjects, guards, and the machine still waiting at her entrance. As the ground underneath your feet gives away, your special path of ice doesn’t. The quickly shrinking logical part of your brain recognises that is the time for your fear of heights to kick in, but it doesn’t. Your head is just fuzzy. He is steady as ever underneath you, never losing his balance. At the same time, he has never been this quiet. You glance over your shoulder. Behind you, the ice he left behind is dissolving. 

As the quiet stretches on, it becomes harder and harder to ground yourself. Your body starts to heat up once again despite the icy wind whipping around you, and the icy man you are pressed up against. Your neck loses all its strength. In the end, your head rests sideways on his shoulder, your ear pressed against him. His hair keeps brushing, or almost touching, your face. Without shame, the concept of that seems to have left you entirely, you take a deep inhale. You’re resting so close to his ear that he has no choice except to hear it. He lets out a breathy, short laugh. 

Past his shoulder, you can see one of his fists closed, the other hand is open, with its palm opened towards the sky. Through half-open eyes, you stare. His hands are aglow with a faint blue light, the evidence of his powers. His powers… The thought catches in your brain, and doesn’t loosens. There’s something about his magic, something that you have forgotten but that your body remembers. Your gaze shifts without you prompting it to.

His crown sits in the middle of its head, as it always does. Its yellow colour seems blinding to you now, sparkling bright like starlight. The rubies on it gleam, reflecting non-existent beams of sun. You have to touch it. Just a little. Or maybe a bit more. 

The movement of your arm as you reach out is heavy and slow. It feels as if the air is made out of molten caramel, and you are slowly wading your way through it. But with the end goal so clear in sight, and so beautiful, you cannot give up. Just as your fingers are a mere hair’s length away, the Winter King’s fist closes around your wrist. For the first time, he stumbles, the walkway underneath his feet having to veer off-course to make up for it. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the Winter King tuts. He keeps his hand firmly locked around you. “No touching that, snowflake. I’m aware that every single part of me is simply irresistible, but, please, keep your hands to yourself for now.” The rest of his sentence is mumbled, most of the words lost to the wind. “…hers, alright…” 

You feebly try to wriggle your way out of his hold, though it has little effect. “’S important.” You say in return, your tongue catching on the ‘s’ and drawing it out. You clench your legs around his waist tighter, shifting your weight around. 

“It’s important for you not to touch it,” he tells you in response. Tears spring to your eyes, though you aren’t sure why. They feel cold as they drip down your cheeks. As soon as they hit the Winter King’s skin, they turn into tiny, frozen pebbles. 

The Winter Kingdom looms up in front of you, all at once. You hadn’t realised you’d gotten so close to it. When the sun shines on the castle of ice just right, it’s blinding to the eyes. For a moment, a memory bubbles up to the surface of your mind: How you’d wandered here in the utter freezing temperatures, looking at cute little homes with no smoke coming from their chimneys, and how the castle had awed you enough to temporarily distract you from the cold seeping into your very bones. Now, you feel warm enough that you might never be cold again. 

What clues you in to your actual arrival is the crunching of snow underneath the Winter King’s shoes as he jumps down, and the smell of pine trees that hangs pervasive in the air, blanketing the whole kingdom.

“Home…” You mumble. Your face is so close to the Winter King’s ear however, that he hears anything you say, no matter how softly it may be spoken. 

“Yes, dearest,” he responds, giving your wrist a final squeeze. He lets go of your hand. It’s a hesitant, slow departure, like he has to pry each finger loose with effort. As if his hand was frozen to yours, and it takes time to thaw. “We’re home, now. I expect you’ll think twice before heading off on some silly trip again, won’t you?”

 You don’t respond. You hardly register what he’s saying, really. You are caught up in breathing in the cold air, filling your lungs to the brim with it, and hoping the relief will spread throughout your entire body. The layer of sweat that has settled on your skin underneath your clothes, all in different, albeit matching, shades of blue, is starting to cool off. It’s like being wrapped in a cooling blanket, and you smile. Before, all that was preventing you from clawing at your skin was the necessity of holding on to the Winter King, but now you feel no urge to scratch. 

Suddenly, the Ice Scouts’ voices burst from left and right. 

“Is she alright?”

“Should we carry her?” 

Their voices are jarring, and louder than they usually are. They are all grace and fluidity always, and you don’t notice their approach at the best of times. Now is not one of those times. Your head pounds. You bury your face further against him, in an attempt to escape it.

“She will be alright. Yes, yes,” The Winter King says, with enough casualty to make your recovery sound assured and unquestionable. (You know that you will recover, you know that you will get better, and all that you have to do is be one with him. And never let go again, forever, and ever, and ever.) “You may take her from me, but do not venture far. I must make some preparations in the lab, and search… Ahem, find the necessary instruments.”

Though the full reality of his words should have been immediately clear to you, you only start to whimper when the slender, freezing hands of an Ice Scout come into contact with your back. You cling to him like a lifeline, nails clawing at him like a cat clawing at a scratching post. Despite this, you are still smiling, wide enough for your eyes to be nearly squeezed shut. The muscles in your cheek spasm under the strain, yet you cannot stop. 

The Winter King hisses, and as he exhales, you watch the steam of his breath rise up into the air. “I hear you— Well, more like feel you, hah!” He continues, lowering his voice. “You poor thing. You must be uncomfortable enough as it is, and I would be a poor king to exacerbate it.” 

With a flick of his wrist, and a rise of his chin, he dismisses his servants. “Nevermind, you two! Can’t you see the lady herself has spoken? Off with you, now.”

You blink, and an uncertain amount of time has passed. The Winter King has looped one of his arms over yours, keeping you extra steady as he maneuvers his way through his castle. The sound of his movements is sharp. A muted thought pops into your head. For once, he’s not moving around on his shoes, but he must’ve put blades underneath them instead. He’s cutting corners. It’s funny. You laugh, and you laugh, and you laugh, and even your tears are cold against your skin. 

The deeper you go into his castle, the colder it gets. His laboratory is tucked away far from where the occasional wandering visitor or servant might find it. By now, your lips are stretched high enough, and your muscles are twitching enough, for your vision to be nothing more than a blur. Still, you recognise the sound of the sliding door entrance. He had taken you here when you had first arrived, poked and prodded at you for a bit, before proclaiming you a human. Your addled brain knows what to expect here. You will be put down and left alone, the last thing you want. 

You whine. Rather than just your nose, you press your twitchy, stretched thin mouth against his skin. You are overwhelmed with the urge to lap and suck, your mouth latching on to the flesh of his throat. The Winter King lets out a shuddering sigh in response, before placing a hand against the side of your head, and pushing you away. Your mouth releases from his skin with a pop, leaving a darker mark in it's wake. 

"Dear, you are going to make me do something very unethical, if you keep that up." He laughs, and it’s an airy, weightless sound. You find yourself laughing along. 

The Winter King places his hand around your fingers, and you expect a kind, grounding gesture. One by one, he removes your fingers from the fabric of his vest. Despite protesting as much as you can, he bends your digits as easily as one does straw. He plops you down on a chair which, by the feel of it, he just manifested out of ice. 

“I stand by my earlier diagnosis, as of now. This is pretty bad.” The Winter King says, the blue blur on your vision suggesting he’s hanging over you. His heel squeaks on the floor as he turns around. “Muscle relaxant, muscle relaxant…” His muttering echoes in the room made entirely of ice. 

Your sutures have been removed too early. Feverish, sickening heat washes over you in waves. The current is too strong, and you don’t stand a chance. You press your face against the freezing back of the chair, but it’s not enough. It’s not what you need, not even close to it. You shift your weight around, rubbing your arms and legs against the sides. 

 When, on shaky legs, you attempt to get up, icy shackles click in place around your ankles with a clear snap of his fingers. You sniffle. A pitiful noise is wrenched from your throat, any words currently lots to you.

“It’s for your own safety, snowflake, I promise.” The Winter King’s voice sounds from across the room. He’s digging through drawers, shelves, and whatever else is in that corner of the room— You’ve never looked, and you can’t hold a string of thought long enough to consider what might be. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth. The itching has grown unbearable, and your nails find their way to your arms. Through the fabric of your clothes, you scratch, hissing in the cold air through grit teeth. 

You think the whole world is falling apart you, when a cooling palm presses against your forehead. Everything’s alright again, it’s okay, it’s all fine. Your fingers slow down with each new scratch, before halting entirely. 

“This will burn a little,” the Winter King warns you. He pushes your head back a couple of degrees, and then sprays something into both of your nostrils in quick succession. Your entire face scrunches up. The warning hadn’t been unwarranted, you can feel the substance burn its way through your system. It doesn’t hurt more than your exhausted muscles, however. Tears slide down your cheeks as you try to swallow a mouthful of saliva. Your chest shakes and contracts, though you can’t tell whether they are sobs or bouts of laughter.  

“Shh, shhhh.” The Winter King attempts to shush you, kneeling in front of you as he wipes away your tears with a handkerchief. “It’s only going to get better from here on out.” As the seconds pass, some much-needed relaxation washes over your face. It cannot wipe the smile off of your face entirely. It remains, lopsided and unsteady. Still, you can see again. 

The Winter King is sitting on a tiny stool in front of you, pen in hand and taking notes. His face is uncharacteristically serious, the deep lines in his face indicating his concentration. It’s like you’re looking at a different man. 

“Dilated pupils. Unnatural facial movement, appearing as a smile…” He places one of his hands on your forehead once again, the other continuing to write. “Extremely high body heat.” Then, he moves on to place a thumb over your pulse. “Heightened heart rate.” As soon as he pulls his hand back, you reach out your arm, in an attempt to guide him back. “…And an uncontrollable urge to be close to me, it seems.” He huffs. The Winter King leans his head back, and clicks his tongue, multiple times in a row. “Well, it’s her essence, alright.” His eyes glide up and down your body. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The words are audible, but they find nowhere to hold onto inside your brain. All of the words, individually, make sense. That is where your understanding ends. There’s no way for you to string their meaning together. 

“I suspected as much.” As he cups one of your cheeks in his hand, you lean into the touch as much as you can, rubbing your nose against his palm. By now, your symptoms have worsened to the point that not even his touch can cool you down. If it weren’t for the relaxant he’d given you, you’d be straining against your cuffs in order to get to him. Your brain is focused on a single pinpoint: him. 

You no longer have a concept of shame. Both of your hands reach for his, grabbing onto his wrist, and dragging his palm over your face. It’s easy, there is no resistance from his side. When they come closer to your mouth, you lean forward, and take one of his fingers in between your lips, sucking on it. You try to appeal to him further, the only way you know how, the smile on your face widening. Your head is filled to the brim and light at the same time, stuffed full of cotton candy. 

“Winterrr…” You slur out his name, tongue caressing his finger as you do so. The world is garbled nearly beyond recognition. Both because of the intrusion, and the fact your tongue doesn’t listen to all of your unconscious commands. Your brain feels like it’s leaking out of your ears. You are hardly in control of yourself anymore. It would have been terrifying, had you had the ability to remember you were ever in control in the first place. All you know is this moment, this exact time and place. “Pleaaase…”

Drool is pooling onto your lap. The Winter King stares at you for a good few seconds, gaze intense. He doesn’t pull away, but neither does he lean in. A droplet of water slides over his forehead. For a moment, it hangs off of the tip of his nose, before dripping down, like from the point of an icicle. 

“Me? It’s me you need, snowflake? It’s me you want?” There is a breathless in his voice, an anticipation in his tone that set your nerves impossible more alight. You’re nodding. All you can recognise in his voice is a kind of desire, and you’re nodding. There’s nothing you’ve ever wanted more. 

“Aaaah, can I really do this…?” The Winter King says, smiling creeping onto his face. At the same time, he’s stuffing multiple of his digits into your mouth, practically fingering you as he runs the pads of them over your teeth and tongue. His other hand finds your wrist again, and he presses down with his thumb. “It seems to calm you down.” 

He takes your tongue in between two of his fingers, and rubs both sides of it at once. Your eyes grow hazy, your head lolls to the side. Full-body shivers wreck your body, goosebumps spreading absolutely everywhere. Your core throbs. 

The Winter King laughs, clear and pretty as bells. “Well, now isn’t the time to suddenly grow a moral compass, is it? It’s clear what you want. What you need.” He pulls away from your mouth. Holding his fingers in front of his face, he looks at the strings of saliva connecting them, slowly pulling them further apart, and bringing them back together. “I don’t know anything else that might make you feel better, dear— And I’m only saying that, because I know you won’t remember a thing. Not with that pretty, little head of yours being as empty as it is right now.” 

He shakes his head. “Haaah, I don’t even know why I’m saying any of this, anymore. But it feels nice to fill the silence, doesn’t it? I do have a lovely voice. I’m sure you’d agree, if you could.” 

You squirm in your seat. Any moment without the Winter King is a moment too long, in your mind. Once again, you reach out for his hand, but he keeps it just outside of your reach. Your heart clenches. 

“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll give you something much, much better.”

Your knees bump against his. You spread your legs as wide as they can possibly go, and he rests his knees on the inside of them, moving the stool closer. His smile is graceful and steady, not flush on his cheeks to be seen. With two fingers, he grabs his glasses off of the bridge of his nose, folds the legs up, and puts it on a table a little to the side. It would be a great show of self-restraint. Would be, because his hands are trembling. His every breath is a puff of smoke. You might be a total mess, but he is cracking at the seams himself. 

He holds your face in both of his hands, one of his fingers rubbing circles on your cheek. The Winter King leans in, angling his face just right, so his nose doesn’t end up anywhere you wouldn’t want it to be. It’s all you’ve ever read or heard about. Descriptions of kisses that feel like fireworks going off, or butterflies eating away at your insides— It’s more overwhelming than any of that. Your whole body feels as if it’s been alight at once. His lips are silky smooth, and merely cool to the touch, rather than cold.

One of his hand moves to rest on top of your hair, adjusting the position of your head just a tad. Your mouth is already hanging open. Frankly, your entire jaw is slack. You couldn’t even close it if you had tried, so little control over your muscles do you have left. His tongue slips inside you without any effort or resistance. It brushes against yours, and…

He breaks the moment. The Winter King jerks his head back, smacking his lips together. His face is ever so slightly scrunched up. You lean forward as best as you can, trying to follow the kiss and recapture it, to no avail. Instead, you settle for what you can. You lick the remainder of his touch from your lips. 

“Sorry about that, snowflake,” he says, voice low. “You still taste like her. It surprised me, that’s all. It’s not your fault.” He hums, leaning in close again, and a more teasing smile plays around his lips. “Let’s change that together, shall we?”

The Winter King kisses you with renewed energy. It’s like he sets out to reclaim crevice over your mouth, his tongue running over both your tongue and palate. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes once again, and your entire body is shaking. With what limited power you have, you suck his tongue further into your mouth, as hard as you can. For the first time, Winter’s control wavers, and he lets out a muffled little noise. 

This is it, this is exactly it, and as soon as you think that, it’s not enough anymore. You need him further inside you, you need infinitely more of him. Merely his spit mixing with yours isn’t deep enough of a connection. 

With a bit of effort, the Winter King detaches his mouth from yours. A thick string of drool connects your mouths. He catches it on his finger, and stuffs it back inside your mouth. His eyes are half-lidded and his smile is as lopsided of your own, a dark blue hue tinting the space underneath his eyes. 

“Heehee,” he laughs, out of breath. His cobalt tongue peeks past his lips for just a moment. “Oh, dear, you’re not trying to eat me, are you?” 

Your head grows a little clearer, the more and more he touches you. Not enough to speak, but enough to understand what he’s saying again. You shake your head. The whole world spins around you at the motion, swirling with seasickness. Eating is not quite right. 

His eyes light up at the evidence of your understanding, little stars twinkling in his eyes as he claps his hands together. He has such silly ways to show his excitement. It’s really, really cute. 

As soon as the thought forms in your head, it quickly slips back out of your fingers. Your arms itch. Every time you feel release, it never lasts. It hurts. Once again, your tears threaten to spill over, and your fingers claw at the armrests of your impromptu, icy chair. They find nothing to hold on to. 

“It’s not enough, hm? Of course it isn’t. You greedy little thing,” he says with nothing except for affection in his tone. “I think I know what you want snowflake. Allow me to help.”

The Winter King lowers his hands, one of them tapping in a steady rhythm on the inside of your thigh, while the other pressed against your clothed crotch. Your legs were already spread wide open for him. The coldness of his fingers radiates even through the fabric of your clothes. As he starts to rub, teasingly pulling at your waistband, before letting the fabric hit your skin again, your whole body seizes. This… Isn’t it. This isn’t making the heat any better, it’s only making it worse.

Your ankles push up against your restraints. You try to wriggle away, and put both of your hands on his arm. The Winter King immediately relents. He holds both of his hands in front of his chest, turned toward you in a sign of surrender. You close your thighs, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“Well, that’s a ‘no’. Clearly. You didn’t need your voice to tell me that much.” His gaze drifts down to his hands, then back to your face. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, snowflake. I simply assumed… It’d be a lot easier if you could talk to me, but I know that’s not an option right now. Alas.”

He stands up, and pushes the stool backward with his foot. “You can understand what I’m saying, so let’s do it like this. I ask you now: What do you want?” The Winter King runs a hand through his hair, flipping it over his shoulder. “I know I love to make things about myself, but in this situation… Let’s not. Maybe try to point at what you want, hm?” 

Slowly, you nod. Without really thinking about it, you reach out and press your hand against the obvious bulge in his pants, before pointing at your mouth with your other hand. All the while, you’re smiling up at him. 

The Winter King lets out a sound somewhere in between a cough and a laugh, before genuinely cracking up. “Ha— Hahaha, oh, snowflake… Really, I know I should be worried about your life right now, and trust me, I am, but… Ohhh, you’re even flustering me at this rate,” He winks at you, a blue flush having spread over most of his face. “And that’s an achievement, you can trust me on that. Though I should have expected that kind of response, shouldn’t I?” He drags a finger quickly past the corner of his eye, like wiping away a single tear. 

He places his hand over his chest. “Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll let you suck my cock, dear…! Kidding. I’d let you do that any day.” Even in your current state, you can tell he’s finding himself far too hilarious, as usual. You groan, contemplating hitting him, before your addled brain comes up with a much better idea. 

You massage him through his pants, cupping and squeezing him. Immediately the majority of the smile melts off of his face, and he hisses in a breath. 

“Yes, yes, dearest. I understand. Your wish is my command. Let go for a moment now, will you?” 

He pulls his pants and underwear down the minimal amount, entirely dressed excepted the hard cock a little way away from your face. Underneath you, the chair made out of ice molds and changes, presenting you at the perfect height to suck him off. 

All of this floats right by you. You go nearly cross-eyed while staring at his cock. It’s pretty and thick, with a bead of precum on the top. Though, at this point, you don’t care what it looks like. Your entire body is wound tight, full of anticipation for this exact, specific moment. You feel like your mouth is dry from how much you’ve been drooling, trails of saliva turning to near-frost on your skin. 

His fingers lace themselves through your hair, most of his hand at the back of your head. “That’s a delicious look on you, snowflake. You should reserve it just for me, yes?” His nails tickle as he presses his dick against your lips, smearing himself over them. With no hesitation, you open your mouth and take his head in. Immediately, he lets out a sigh, his eyes rolling up. 

“I’d forgotten how warm a human mouth is… I love it.” He moans, loud and unapologetic as you suck on him, tongue still too relaxed to move much. The taste of him, especially his precum, flits through your mind for just a moment. It doesn’t taste like much of anything, almost like water. “You’re doing wonderful, sweetheart. 

You try to lean forward, wanting to take as much of him in at once in your feverish haze. The Winter King, however, keeps a steady hold on you, and keeps your head firmly against the back of your seat. He shushes you as you protest around him. 

(Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, underneath the layers of magic you’ve been put under, there is shame. You must look like a mess right now. Unlike yourself, smiling creepily around his cock, and forward in a way you wouldn’t have been otherwise. Whatever you’re doing to him can be described as sloppy as best. You would have preferred your first time with him to be anything except for this, something stained with urgency beyond simple desire. Yet, he looks at you like there is nothing ugly about you.)

“I’m going to help you take as much of as me as possible, sweetheart. But not like that.” He pets the top of your head. “Deep breaths, deep breaths. Or…” He hums, lost in thought for a moment. His cock twitches inside your mouth. “I wonder, would that spray have relaxed your gag reflex as well?”

You don’t notice his scientific curiosity. All you can tell is that he’s given you exactly what you’d been fantasizing about, and you hum in pleasure around his dick. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, you’re one. You can’t be much more than a cocksleeve wrapped around him, but the Winter King doesn’t seem too mind. He breathes heavily, starting out with shallow thrusts in your mouth, that push beyond what your body should be able to handle without any issue. You have no urge to gag, and you smile wider. 

“Ohhh, that’s so hot,” he gasps out. “You’ve given me some wonderful ideas for the future, snowflake,” he babbles to no one except himself. “I wasn’t even planning on getting myself off during this, dear, but this is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He lets out a long groan as he bottoms out inside your mouth, simply reveling in the warm, wet heat of you. 

“Mm, next time, I’ll truly make this all about you, promise.” He rubs your hair in an affectionate, soothing manner. “I don’t want this to end just yet,” he admits, laughter breathy. “But that would be awfully selfish of me, wouldn’t it?”

You stare up at him through hazy eyes that are glossy with tears. This is good, it’s beautiful, it’s wonderful, but you need him to cum right down your throat. The inside of your mouth is so cold, cold enough that you feel like your tongue might freeze to the bottom of your mouth. That he won’t be able to pull out by the time he’s done with you, and be stuck inside you for the next couple of hours. You shudder with nothing but pleasure. 

Yet, this prospect is not enough to drive out the immediate need inside you, and you look at the Winter King which as must pleading as you think you can muster. You hum around his cock, running your tongue along the underside of him the best he can.  

“I know, snowflake, I know,” he says and, then, starts to move once again, always keeping more than half of his cock inside your mouth. “I can tell you I usually last longer than this,” he says, starting to ramble again. “But for you, for you, I will—”

He lets out a guttural moan, pulled from the depths of his throat as his fingers twitch against your scalp. It’s your name he whines out as he cums right down your throat, his hips jerking forwards a few more times as he releases every last drop inside of you. You don’t even have to swallow to take all of it in. Without thinking about it at all, you try to speak yourself, though the words are obviously lost to him, nothing more than gurgles. (You love, him, you love him, you love him.)

Resting his hand on the back of the chair, he looms over you, breathing heavily. Droplets of water run down his face, and drip down his nose. His shoulder are slumped in bliss, his face entirely relaxed, and without pretense. Mindlessly, you continue to suck on his cock, though some of the fog inside your head is already starting to clear. The Winter King hisses and pulls out.

“A bit too soon for that, my snowflake.” 

He pets your head for a few seconds longer, and with slightly shaky hands wipes the area around your mouth clean. The fact it doesn’t freeze on your skin is a testament to his amount of self-control. You rest your head against the, honestly, uncomfortable chair, and close your eyes.

You breathe deeply, in and out. The itching underneath your skin is the first thing that disappears. It’s like your whole body has been cleansed, rinsed from all of the filth. Instead of feeling warm, a complete and utter chill is wrapping itself around your body. Your teeth start to clatter together with an audible clicking sound, and you wrap your arms around yourself.

You groan as you blink, time and time again. You feel like garbage. Utter garbage, in fact. You’re shivering with the kind of cold-heat only found in illness, and it feels as if there’s ice in your mouth. Like your teeth are frozen against each other, completely stuck. That’s not even mentioning your eyelids, which are as heavy as rocks. 

It’s only when you feel something wrapping around you, multiple times, in fact, that you become aware of more than your bodily discomfort. You try to move your arms and legs, but find it nearly impossible to do so. You manage to crack open your eyes. The sight of the Winter King, carrying another blanket in his arms, becomes obvious to you. You’re already swaddled in the things.

“N-no. That’s enough.” You nearly flinch from how poorly your own voice sounds. “Did you really need to use that many blankets…?” You ask, your throat sore and voice hoarse. Your memories are hazy at best. You remember going to Candy’s place to hang out, and then… Wait, uh, are you remembering wrong, or did she kiss you? You don’t have much time to ponder it, as the Winter King is immediately all over you. 

“Oh, dearest!” He drops to his knees in front of you, shaking you around. “I thought you were done for, truly! All at once, you became freezing…! I really didn’t have a clue what to do, as you know, my specialty doesn’t lie in heating things up,” he continues, rambling. He’s speaking enough that you know he’s been genuinely worried. “I’m glad you’re okay, well, you seem fine enough to me! Believe me, I was about to chuck you into the hot springs.”

“Hot springs?” You ask, frowning. Since when do you have hot springs?

“Forget I said that.” He says, incredibly quickly, within a single breath. You snort, cracking up a little. Laughing, for whatever reason, is hurting your chest. “Nooo, none of that, snowflake! You’re being awfully cruel to me. I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” But as you laugh more, his own smile widens, soft around the edges as it is. 

“Tell me about the hot springs,” you say. He sighs loudly, and scoops you off of your seat and into his arms, making you sputter. As bundled up as you are however, you can’t protest at all. You must look very silly to an outside observer. It’s only then that you notice that you are in his laboratory. You really have to ask what happened exactly later.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a groan.

“Well, it’s clearly not anymore, so you should just tell me already.” The offended look on his face only makes you chuckle again. 

“It’s what I’ve been working on, on and off for the past few weeks,” he says, relenting to your wishes as he exits the room. Maybe you shouldn’t be as used to being carried around like this, but you hardly think about it anymore. “I figured that you needed to have a place to warm up, for once! It’s near the mountains. I had to dig it up, all on my own! None of my subjects want to get anywhere close to hot water, can you imagine?”

You totally can, but you digress. 

“So, well… That’s the reason I haven’t been around as much lately, dearest. And I guess that’s exactly what sent you off running into her arms, hm?” You pinches your cheek, a little too hard to be merely affectionate.

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it—” You protest.

“You must have been awfully lonely indeed!” He loudly continues, rubbing his thumb over the spot he’d just pinched. “But I will be honest with you, dear, you were in a dangerous situation today. Do you truly think I warned you so, so many times, merely for the sake of it? You could have died, all because of a whim of hers!”

“Is that what happened?” You ask, voice soft, nearly a whisper.

“Oh? You can’t remember?” You shake your head. “Yes, that is exactly what happened. She corrupted you, a human, with her essence, something no creature is made to handle, but especially not you. You are lucky to make out with some mere soreness, I can promise you that.” He smiles, but you can tell there’s no humour in him. For once, he is walking instead of skating, each step placed with purpose. “I think it would be better for you if you didn’t try to be kidnapped by her anymore, hm? If you enjoy near-death experiences that much, I can arrange one for you.”

You laugh awkwardly, because you are assuming it’s a joke. What else could it possibly be? “I… Yeah, I won’t go there anymore. Sorry for worrying you. I didn’t mean to, honestly.” That seals off your route to the last place you could go outside of the kingdom. He’s never let you wander far, and you can only guess he’ll be even more protective from now on.

For a few moments, he holds your gaze, and then he leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead. “I forgive you.” You feel a little less cold than before, despite his lips being far from warm. “Really though, that wasn’t your smartest decision. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you tell him. He clicks his tongue, and you move to defend yourself. “Look, okay, my mouth feels really weird, and I have no idea why! I’ve never felt anything like it. My teeth keep sticking to each other.” 

He goes quiet for a few seconds, playing with the edge of one of the blankets wrapped around you. “It must be a leftover symptom from your corruption. The phenomenon is not well-documented, especially not in humans.”

Even through all of the thick blankets wrapped around you, you are starting to shiver. Winter feels it, and hugs you closer to his chest.

“It’s a good thing I was going to show you those hot springs!” He chirps, tone suddenly shifting to his usual cadence. You are happy to chalk all of your strange feelings up to the corruption you’d suffered. Of course, the reason you woke up in his lab was because he was monitoring your health. “Both of us could use a little warming up, I would say.”

There are things you have left behind. Somewhere, out there in this vast, vast multiverse, there is a home waiting for you. Perhaps with family and friends searching for you, worrying themselves sick. But if that is the case, you remember none of it. You are happy here, in the Winter Kingdom, at the side of its king. If you are happy here, and you are, you don’t think anyone could blame you for wanting to stay, could they?

The world outside of here is so, so dangerous. He has warned you about it all an infinite number of times. You really do think you would like to stay here, for the rest of the life that stretches ahead of you. 

“Winter…?” You say softly, your tone bordering on questioning. He hums in response, milky white eyes meeting your own. “Thank you. For everything.”

He hugs you close to his chest, and does a little spin on the tips of his toes. You laugh. By this point, you are used to his theatrics, and know that he won’t let you fall. Little hearts made from his ice powers drift in the air next to his head, before dissolving into powder snow. 

“I love you too, snowflake.” His voice is a singsong whisper, and your heart melts.

[ssahotchnerr]

What do you think about Jack coming to you when he tells Aaron is off. Cause obviously he'll notice. No one knows Aaron as well as Jack (except maybe the reader). So when he notices he's off he'll come to you for help knowing you make Aaron happy 😭

-🌱

something off

cw; brief mention of haley, jack is sad :(

something was off. you had noticed it when you picked jack up from school that afternoon, as he picked at his dinner, as he very unenthusiastically got ready for bed and settled in for story time.

it was aaron and jack's nighttime tradition, established long before you had entered the picture. aaron had confided in you one night, that reading a story before bed was something he started after haley passed, in attempt to keep jack's mind far away from any horrors before falling asleep- he didn't want jack's mind being plagued with nightmares if he could help it.

by now, there were numerous shelves of books the two of them had gone through, and story time was the most anticipated part of the night. the only thing more exciting, was when the three of you ventured to the bookstore in search of a new read after finishing one.

so when aaron was away, you more than graciously stepped in.

hence your current situation- the two of you underneath jack's star wars comforter- littered with stormtroopers, droids, numerous ships- with jack's cheek resting against your sleeve as he followed along to the words.

you've gone through maybe half a chapter- the current read was harry potter and the chamber of secrets- when it was clear jack hadn't been paying attention. he was a more restless than usual, his tiny feet kicking into your leg every so often, jostling around as he attempted to get comfortable.

"hey buddy, what's on your mind?"

he let out a breath as he thought, as if he were contemplating sharing his thoughts. it took him a moment, but he spoke up.

"is daddy okay?" he ever so slightly mumbled, looking up at you with his big, sad eyes.

you sat up slightly, closing the book but keeping place with your thumb. "of course he's okay." you reassured, but his expression didn't falter. "what has you worried?"

"i don't know." jack let out a sigh again. "he just... wasn't happy this morning."

ah, yes. your mind recalled breakfast, with aaron hastily leaving the apartment. he had gotten an urgent call about a case you presumed, as he and the team had traveled to florida. it was something definitely not good either, if the way his expression had hardened had anything to say about it. he had left barely saying anything, much less a goodbye, to the two of you- simply giving you a kiss and giving jack one at the top of his head.

"oh sweetheart, were you worried all day?" at your words, jack's eyes immediately brimmed with tears, causing your heart to just break. you placed the book aside to pull jack half onto your lap, rubbing his back soothingly.

"he's just a little stressed about work." you reassured him, wiping a lone tear with the pad of your thumb. "but he's fine. i promise you."

he clearly wasn't convinced. "but is he going to be okay?"

"yeah." you nodded your head, holding him close. there was only so much you could tell him. "sometimes he's gets frustrated, his job is very hard and he gets tired. you know his job is saving good people from bad people, and your dad really wants to save the good people, so it gets to be a lot at times."

"i know." he agreed softly.

"but he's going to be just fine. and he's safe, if you're worried about that too. nothing bad will happen to him, i promise you." you held out your pinky.

it took him a few moments, but jack interlocked his pinky tightly around yours.

"do you feel a bit better, talking about it? i can't let my jackers go to sleep sad." you ruffled his hair gently, and you got a small nod in response. "how about tomorrow, we'll do something to make him smile when he gets home?"

"like what?"

"hmm," you thought for a moment. "well, i know he told me he would really like a new drawing to have with him at work. y'know, your pictures help him feel better when he's away."

"really?"

"really." you tickled his side gently, causing him to laugh. "and tomorrow before school, we'll give him a call so you can talk to him. i know that'll make him feel so much better too."

"okay." he nodded, scooting closer to your side.

"and if you're ever worried, you can always come to me, okay? or your dad. if anything was very wrong, we would let you know. we're a family, and families go through things together."

[faerune]

Good night to my wife, fuck the rest of y’all.

[template]

[froggywritesstuff]

hero | mm!yandere!leonardo

ship/pairing: Mutant Mayhem!Yandere!Leo x g/n!reader

fandom: TMNT: Mutant Mayhem

warnings: yandere themes, swearing, Leo being delusional, manipulative behaviour, guilt tripping, being tied up, gags, kidnapping

word count: 1007

A/N: i only saw mutant mayhem in cinemas once like a month ago so this might be ooc. 18+ people DNI. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

Leo exhaled heavily, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He whispered to himself 'you got this,' over and over like a mantra. He was so nervous, nothing could calm him down. You were in the sewers with him, he couldn't even imagine being calm. He gave up on calming his nerves, deciding to greet you as he was, jittery and giddy. He entered the secluded part of the sewers he cleared out just for you, not being able to contain his smile as he met your eyes - your mouth being covered with the gag he gave you. You didn't look as excited as he was...  You were probably just confused, that was all. Once Leo explained everything, you'd be smiling in no time. He neared closer to you, frowning at the way you shuffled back toward the wall, but he rationalised that you were just too excited to meet him, and was just as giddy as he was.

"HEy." Leo internally cringed at the crack in his voice, but kept a calm face in front of you, "Sorry for keeping you tied up so long, I had to finish up some stuff with my brothers." he paused, before realisation dawned on him, "Oh and sorry for keeping that gag on you for so long," he walked your way, stopping in front of you to untie the gag, "I knew you'd be confused and I didn't want you to hurt your throat by-"

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Leo jumped back when you yelled, not prepared for your hostility. 

"Hey," he looked behind him, double checking no one else was near, "Y/N, you need to keep it down, or I'm gonna have to put the gag back on, and I really don't wanna do that." he said, almost pleading with you.

"You have thirty seconds to explain to me what you think you're doing." you spat, glaring at Leo to hide the fear in your eyes. You did stay quiet, so Leo did appreciate that.

He nodded, exhaling quickly, "Ok, so we go to the same school, I dunno if you've ever noticed me, you probably haven't-"

"Yeah, I never noticed four turtle mutants at my school." 

Leo instantly perked up, "So you have noticed me?" you said nothing, staring at him with a frustrated look, "Right, never mind. I- You just looked so lonely at school, I figured you needed a friend."

You scoffed, and Leo didn't miss the feeling of pure fear in your voice that you tried to cover up, "So your first thought is to kidnap me?"

Leo cringed, "Can you maybe not use that word?"

Your eyebrows raised, “Kidnap?” he nodded, "No, because it's the exact word to describe what you're doing."

”Well you’re making me out to be some kind of monster. I just…” he sighed, “I really like you and I thought I could be your friend, or something…”

”Well you could’ve been if not for the kidnapping.”

He brought his hands to his face, laughing awkwardly, “Can you stop? I’m trying to help you, it’s not my fault you’re not taking this well.” he saw your unconvinced expression and stood up, beginning to pace around the room “I’m a hero, you know I’m a hero. My brothers and I saved the city. I'm trying to do a good thing for you, and I really want you to be happy down here, with me. So can you just stop being so negative?"

You just stared at him speechless. You realised pretty quickly that you wouldn't be able to convince him that what he was doing was wrong. It seemed his mind was made up. But you also noticed that he seemed pretty determined to keep you happy, and was convinced that you weren't happy without him.

"Leo listen to me," you began, seeing the corners of his lips turn up slightly at the fact that you knew his name, "I know you think you're helping me or whatever, but you're really not. I'm fine, I really am. You-you can let me go, and I won't tell anyone about this, I swear." you couldn't stop the tears forming in your eyes. You didn't want him to know, but you were truly terrified.

He narrowed his eyes at you, "What do you mean? I-I'm helping. I don't understand why you wouldn't think that..." you opened your mouth to speak but he quickly cut you off, "I-is this because I'm a mutant?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What?"

"You just think I'm some kind of monster, don't you?" he asked, a hurt look in his eyes as he stared at you.

"Leo, you're not listening to me-" you attempted to say, but Leo cut you off again.

"Well I'm sorry I'm not a human, but last I checked, no human cares enough about you to give you this kind of help." he scoffed, turning around and beginning to walk away.

"Leo, what are you doing?" you asked fearfully, pulling on the ropes around your hands.

He turned back to meet your eyes, "If you hate me so much, I'll just leave you alone then."

You suppress a groan of frustration, "Can you just-"

Leo turned around sharply, a sharp glare sent your way, but you could still see the hope in his eyes, "Just what? If you're gonna yell at me again, I don't wanna hear it."

"I don't want to be here. You're really scaring me, and I want to go home. This isn't what heroes do, Leo." you insisted, staring deep into Leo's eyes, hoping you would reach him.

In the blink of an eye, you saw his face fall, his once tense and frustrated expression replaced with drooped eyelids, frowning lips and slumped shoulders. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, before his lips turned upwards slightly, a calm expression forced upon his face, "It's ok, Y/N. You’re confused, you’re not used to this yet. You don't understand now, but you will soon. I promise."

[drurrito]

Welcome Aboard

A/N: Cranked out my first fic for Carol. All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of angst and alcohol use

----------------

Carol never has visitors.

When the boarding request pops up on her communications system, she almost blows it to bits, it's a sound she hasn't heard in years. It takes her a few seconds to finally press the button to speak to whoever is waiting on the other side.

"Who's there?" she finally asks.

"Captain Marvel?" a voice responds, "I'm agent y/n, I'm here from S.A.B.E.R. Our comms are down indefinitely, so Fury sent me over to do a briefing."

Carol looks over at Goose, who's stretched out across the navigation station, unbothered by the news of an unexpected guest. Carol tries to emulate the same attitude, striding over to the door to greet you like she's done this plenty of times. She used to at some point, that has to count for something, right?

She loses her bravado as soon as she finds you standing in the entryway.

"Captain Marvel, it's a pleasure to meet you," you stick your hand out and Carol takes it after a beat too long. You don't take offense, Fury gave you the rundown on how long Carol has been isolated. It only took a few minutes to conclude that being a multi-galactic hero is a lonely job.

Carol doesn't stand around for too long, she hurries into the ship after inviting you in.

"Excuse the mess, been a while since someone's been aboard," she apologizes, tossing a single loose shirt into a hamper in the corner and tidying a pillow that was definitely knocked over by Goose.

"It's no problem, are you ready to start the briefing?"

"Sure, you want a drink or anything? Besides water, I think there's a few bottles of brew from Aladna hiding in the back of the fridge," Carol is already halfway to the kitchen, oblivious to the quizzical look on your face.

"I'm okay, Captain, honest," you flash her a friendly smile, and she feels the air escape her lungs. Her shoulders descend from her ears as she walks over to the chair across from you. You're too busy pulling up the agenda to notice.

Carol gingerly takes a seat, her hands rubbing vigorously against her thighs. She might be the first person to grate their hands on denim jeans at this rate. You're still looking for the agenda when Carol springs up from her seat, "are you sure you're not hungry? I'm so sorry, I should have offered before-"

"Captain?"

"Yes?" Her eyebrows were about to launch into orbit, she was already a few paces away from the kitchen, scraping the farthest corners of her mind for that recipe she learned from a family she helped a few galaxies ago.

"I'm okay, really."

"Right," she hurries over to the chair again and lets her body unceremoniously drop into it, vowing to herself she'll never get up from this spot unless she absolutely needs to. She looks up to see you waiting patiently for her go-ahead. Despite traveling to the furthest edges of the universe, she's never seen anything like the color of your eyes.

She collects herself quickly before saying, "let's get started."

---------------

The briefing was mostly successful. Turns out your agenda was outdated, the correct one must have been wiped out from the surge that knocked out the comms. You had to ad-lib everything that was left out and corrected anything that was no longer relevant. Carol watched you intently the whole time, like the fate of the universe depended on scheduled ship maintenances and admin tasks.

"There's still one thing, it was from a meeting last week," you stand, pacing back and forth trying to jog your memory.

"I'm sure it's in there somewhere, maybe we can take a look with these?" Carol is holding two memory dive devices. You've never had to use them before, but you know everything there is to know about how they work.

"Good idea Captain."

"You can call me Carol, agent, it's alright," she hands you one of the devices.

"Thank you," you just nod and take the device, Carol pretends the way your fingers brushed against hers for a fleeting second didn't just make her spine tingle. She lets you take her bed while she sits in the tattered recliner she's been meaning to get rid of.

----------------

It all happens so fast.

One second you're watching the memory of you sitting in a briefing room with Fury and your colleagues, the next, you're watching Carol's memory of Maria telling her to take Goose.

"The cancer came back."

You can only watch a few more blurs of Carol's memory before you jolt upright. Your body is so tense, all you can do is let out a shuddering breath and a few tears.

"Y/n?" Carol is already by your side, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen."

Her voice is distant, like she's calling to you from the other end of the galaxy in the deepest cave. You're still trying to get your bearings, that was far too much pain packed into what was only seconds with the mind dive.

"Can you look at me? Please?"

She sounds much closer now, you turn to look at her and suddenly remember where you are. Your breath is still unsteady as you wipe the half-dried tears on your cheeks, embarrassed over being reduced to tears.

"That...those were your memories," you finally speak, Carol sighs in relief. Her hands have been hovering between your shoulders and face this whole time, unsure if touching you was the best idea.

"Yeah, they were," she straightens up, taking the device from your hands and tossing both aside.

"I've been trying to remember everything...before, well, everything," Carol starts again, looking at anything but you, "I'm so sorry, if I knew that was going to happen I wouldn't have-"

She's cut off by the feeling of your arms pulling her against you. She almost forgot how much she loves hugs, almost.

Carol returns the favor and wraps her arms around you. You both stay like that for a while. Loss is one of the first lessons a hero learns, but it doesn't mean they're impervious to its effects, especially with how often it happens. Carol is trying to convey how sorry she is with every circle she rubs into your back. You only part when it seems like the dust has finally settled.

"I think I'll take that beer now," you say after heavy sigh. Carol gives you a sympathetic smile before heading to the fridge.

----------------

Carol explains everything that you saw.

She also tells you stories about her life before this one, and her adventures from roaming the galaxies. You did a poor job of trying to stifle your giggling when she mentioned being married to Aladna's prince to resolve a "legal issue." That earned you some side eye and an eventual smirk.

Carol swears she's mostly made peace with everything that happened, but you both know it weighs heavy on her from time to time.

Especially during long stretches of solitude like this one.

Goose saunters over to you and spills over your feet belly-up with a lazy "meow," a prime position for scratches.

"Goose is probably stoked to get scritches from someone other than me," Carol quips into the mouth of her beer.

"I could do this all day," you say without a second thought and Carol's smile reaches her eyes.

"Carol, I want my agent back," Fury chimes in over comms.

"I'll think about it," Carol says coolly as she takes a swig from her beer, you stand up out of habit from hearing Fury's voice.

"He's right, I should probably go, there's going to be million things to do now that comms are back up."

"Of course, let me walk you out," Carol sets her bottle down and leads you to the doorway. Seems like you only walked through there a few minutes ago. Time is playing tricks on you, it seems.

"Stay safe out there," Carol says.

"You too, Carol," you trade smiles, committing hers to memory by the time she pulls you in for a hug.

"Thank you," she whispers, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before finally letting you go.

----------------

"So?" Fury is the first to greet you when you arrive at the station.

"Pretending comms is down just to give her human interaction is kind of evil...yet genius," you shake your head with a smile.

"I know she gets lonely out there, she'll never admit it. This is the least I can do," he shrugs before turning on his heel. He walks a few steps before turning to you again.

"Same time next month, agent y/n?"

"Of course sir."

He gives you a curt nod with a knowing smirk before finally leaving.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

One thing I love about s2 is how well the needle drops line up with what we're seeing on screen. S1 had great music choices but I think s2 goes above and beyond.

Strawberry Letter 23 (by Shuggie Otis) plays during Ed's crew's raid montage, and it's so perfect - I wrote about this here, but this is a song about sending love letters and, just as Stede was sending letters to Ed, Ed's raids are like messages to Stede.

Francis Bebey's Pygmy Love Song plays over Ed's impossible bird speech to Frenchie, and as the shot transitions from Ed to Stede, looking at the moon together. I love how Ed is in such a dark place, but the lyrics over the scene are "my heart is full of love." Even as Ed is thinking about never returning to land, his heart is full of love for Stede.

We all know This Woman's Work (Kate Bush) was incredible during s2e3, but something about the lines "I know you've got a little life in you left, I know you've got a lot of strength left" playing as Ed decides he's not ready to die still gets me every time.

Seabird (Alessi Brothers) is probably my favorite all season, just because "listen lonely seabird, you've been away from land too long" is so perfect to play over Ed, the man who decided he was going to be an impossible bird and never return to land, giving himself a second chance and returning to the ship with the man he loves.

The people responsible for picking the songs used this season owe me for emotional damages. I don't think they could've done a more perfect job. It's another example of how much love and care is put into this show; they don't just look for appropriate vibes, they went out of their way to pick songs that add to and enhance what we see on screen.

[sky-fire-forever]

Responding to your line that you put in the water for izzyxreader asks —

Maybe reader is super tough all the time, and so they and Izzy bond over repressing feelings and everything, and then Izzy goes through his transformation and healing era and the reader feels abandoned because everyone on this crew is touchy-feely and now they’re all alone in putting mind over emotion

But then they find out some really bad news (maybe they lost a loved one or something) and fall apart at the seams, and Izzy is there to pick up the pieces

Idk

[AN: I try to leave it vague as to what the bad news actually is, so I'll leave it to your imagination! This is my first time writing X Reader fic, so I hope it's any good! Also, I am posting this on mobile, so I apologize for any formatting errors]

FALLING APART [IZZY HANDS X GENDER NEUTRAL READER]

Izzy Hands is the only one on the ship who understands you. Or so you thought.

These days, it doesn't seem like anyone understands you at all. Izzy included.

It used to be you and Izzy against the world. The two of you understood what it means to be pirates: It means bottling up the fear and the sadness and the… all of it. It means facing the world with a brave face despite how you might feel inside.

You both understood that. Once.

Izzy seems to have forgotten. He wears his emotions on his face now. He talks about them. He wears the title of Unicorn with pride. Things that Izzy wouldn't have been caught dead doing once upon a time.

It seems so easy for him now. He sits with the crew, smiles with them, congratulates them on a job well done. He belongs with them.

And all you can do is watch.

You're almost envious of his ability to change, to grow. It was less lonely being an outsider when Izzy was on the outside with you. Now, you just have to look in and watch as he builds this fantasy family. You wonder how much it will hurt him when it comes tumbling down.

"You could join us, you know," Izzy tells you one night as the crew huddles together by the light and you stand on your own. "No point in you drinking all alone."

You scoff and wave him off. "I don't do well with people." It's an old excuse, one you've used for years.

Just as he always has, Izzy sees through it. "You don't need to push them away. They're... not what we thought they were."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Just because you've gone soft doesn't mean we all will."

Izzy looks at you with something like sadness in his eyes. "The invitation's open."

But it wasn't an invitation you could accept.

Not until later, when a letter comes for you.

As you read it, your hands begin to shake. Your vision gets blurry as your eyes fill with tears. Before you know it, your entire body is trembling.

"Fuck," you whisper. "Fuck!" You shout it at the sea, crumpling the letter in your fist and hurling it at the ocean.

You can never catch a break, can you? The world loves punishing you no matter what you do. People like you don't get a happy ending.

That's something you've always known. You're a pirate and pirates' lives are full of bloodshed and misery and death. A happy ending has never been in the cards for you. Hell, you never even expected a happy middle.

You've never seen the point in crying over the shitty hand you've been dealt. Expressing emotions changes nothing, fixes nothing. So what's the point?

But in this moment, you can't hold it all in. You fall to your knees as tears hit your cheeks. You sob so hard you can hardly breathe. The world around you becomes a blur as you begin to cry.

Strong hands come to wrap around you. Your first instinct is to fight, to shove away whoever is offering you comfort. But you're just too tired and weak to bother.

"I've got ya. I've got you, love." Izzy's soothing voice washes over you as he pulls you into his lap. "I'm here."

Not long ago, the idea of Izzy Hands gently holding you as you fall apart would have been laughable. But here you sit, curled up against his chest as he rubs circles into your back.

You hiccup, trying desperately to regain some control over your breathing. "H-Hurts," you whimper through the tears. "Fuck, it hurts."

"I know," Izzy says softly. "I know, love. I know it hurts. Just let it all out, yeah?"

He presses a kiss to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut. Sob after sob wrecks through you and you're powerless to stop it.

There's a reason you keep your emotions to yourself. Crying is painful and it's weakness and it fucking sucks. Why would you choose it if you could lock it all away instead?

But somehow crying in Izzy's arms doesn't feel quite as bad as you feared. It still fucking hurts, but he holds you through it, whispering gentle assurances all the while.

And when you've finally cried yourself out, a part of you feels… lighter. Like a great burden has been lifted from your shoulders and all it took was falling apart.

"Shit. I'm sorry," you mutter as you wipe your eyes on the back of your sleeve.

"Nothing to apologize for," Izzy says. "How are you feelin'?"

You hesitate before answering. "Better," you admit somewhat grumpily.

He smiles like he knows how much it pains you to admit that crying helped. "It's easier to fall apart when someone will help pick up the pieces." He reaches up to cup your cheek, brushing away a few stray tears with his thumb.

You swallow and if you had any tears left to shed, you're certain you'd start crying all over again.

Instead, you just wrap your arms around Izzy and hold him close, burying your face in his neck.

"Thank you," you whisper.

He holds you close like it's easy to do it. Like being there for you isn't the burden you know it must be. "Always, love."

And you believe him.

[ghostofskywalker]

Could I please request the prompt "am I your favorite?" with tech?

My heart almost imploded imagining him saying that🥲 he deserves the world

thank you for the request, sorry it's taken so long! this prompt was cute for him!

words: 825

summary: You've always found it easier to exist when everyone else was asleep. Eventually, another person joins your routine.

Comfort, Silence, and Conversations in the Middle Of The Night

clone troopers masterlist || request a winter ficlet!

 For you, things just made more sense in the middle of the night. You didn’t always understand it and you never dared to question it, but it was the way you lived. That meant volunteering to take night watches whenever possible, realizing that your creativity flowed better whenever most people around you were fast asleep, and most importantly, learning how to exist on your own, since there weren’t a lot of others who shared your lifestyle. As life went on, it became more difficult to live exclusively at night, but you made it work. 

Now, as you traveled on the Havoc Marauder, you found yourself between two worlds. During the day you helped where you could, often interacting with your fellow shipmates at the beginnings or ends of their waking hours, and you tried to sleep in between. At night, you worked on the ship or your other tinkering projects, kept watch as it hurtled through hyperspace, and just existed in your own little bubble. 

Occasionally you would have visitors, but it was never consistent. Sometimes Hunter or Echo would be unable to sleep or Omega would have a bad dream, and the two of you would spend some time together in the quiet of the ship’s cockpit for a night, but they wouldn’t return the next time you were there. 

So when Tech started keeping you company in the middle of the night, you were a little surprised, to say the least. 

It started out as a once in a while thing, where he would wordlessly step into the room and the two of you would acknowledge each other before continuing to work on whatever you wanted. If the others on the ship had seen it, they might have gently teased you for not talking to each other, barely exchanging a word at greeting, but just the presence of another person was enough for you, especially when you weren’t sure what had caused Tech’s change in behavior. 

Soon, you realized that it had become a daily thing. Tech’s sleep schedule now mirrored yours, and you didn’t know how to feel. At this point you felt safe enough from the crushing grip of the Empire that you weren’t too worried about being followed or attacked, but you also didn’t want to ignore this change if something was bothering him, or something was wrong that you didn’t know about. 

It took more rotations than you would like to admit, but eventually you worked up the courage to break the silence and asked. “Why do you spend all your time here in the middle of the night?” 

He looked at you, slightly puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“As long as I’ve been on the ship, you’ve always slept at this time. What prompted the change in routine?” 

“Oh,” he said, his eyes shifting downward. “I wanted to keep you company.” 

Well, that definitely wasn’t what you were expecting to hear, and you couldn’t help the shock that took over your face. “What?” you asked softly. 

“You’ve always spent your time here alone,” he said. “Maybe once in a while someone would be out here, but it wasn’t a guarantee. I know that my life is better with those that I care about, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling lost or lonely. Even if that means just tinkering together.” 

Your mouth feel open, and immediately you almost teared up. “Tech, that’s so thoughtful,” you said. “No wonder you’re my favorite.”

That last part was said without really thinking, even though it was absolutely true. “Am I really your favorite?”

“Of course,” you responded. “It can be lonely out here when you live like I do, and I thought that I had gotten over all the negative emotions that come with it. But I guess that I realized how much I enjoyed spending time with someone else, even if we weren’t really interacting at all.” 

“You should never be lonely,” he said, a small smile crossing his face. “And you’re my favorite too.” 

Now it was your turn to be shocked. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t do this for my brothers, that’s ridiculous.” 

You had a sneaking feeling that his words weren’t actually true, even if he believed they were. But as much as you wanted to comment on the fact that you knew his heart was bigger than he said it was, you didn’t want to lose this growing connection with him. So of course, the easiest way to do that was to change the subject. “Do you want to come work on modding this datapad with me?” 

“Of course, what features did you plan on including in the upgrade?” 

This type of connection might not work for everyone else, and some of it was certainly unexpected from Tech, but you’d never felt less lonely in your entire life than you did right now, and that was something you never wanted to change.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

You feel a chill down your spine, the hairs at the back of your neck prickle. You don't dare look behind you... The shadow smiles.

The Night That Feeds is a dark fantasy, interactive story.  It will have heavy themes of familial abuse, sexually suggestive themes (perhaps more explicit stuff too, eventually), and other dark themes. A comprehensive content warning will be made available as the story develops.

"This is a story of love, loss, and of trying to find a home".

*** Please keep your mental health in mind when playing games with dark themes. This game won't be as dark as some others, but I want everyone to be safe and healthy when consuming dark content.

Demo currently sitting at 21k words.

✧ Features/Will feature ✧

A customizable protagonist, name, gender, appearance. 

Multiple romance options (barely implemented at this time).

Demons!  Not in the way you may think.

An interesting fantasy land that you get to explore.

!!BARELY IMPLEMENTED--MOST CHARACTERS NOT MET!!

・❥・ Romance Options ・❥・

✧.*

Captain E. Ward: Fame, fortune, infamy... All these and more follow Captain Ward. Their job is a demanding one, an important one, a dangerous one. They seem to be a commanding, playful person, but how deep do their scars run?

Age: 30

["Isn't it beautiful?" They say as they stare out into the void. Nebulous clouds drift behind, trailing the ship. "So Void-damned beautiful, and so fucked up." They look you in the eyes, and lick the edge of their bottom lip. "You sure you want this, with me?"]

They are a lonely person, they crave, and despise attention. They're afraid of intimacy, of love. What kind of life is a life in the Void? Who would willingly share that with them?

TW: Attempted murder (on them), clinginess.

✧.*

Maddock: A surly mercenary, he watches out for you, all due to a 'favor' of a nature you can't discern. The way he looks at you is reminiscent of a deep longing.

Age: Late 30's, early 40's 

["I never thought that I'd be one ta' have somethin' like this at my age. I let my dreams go in my youth." He pats the cushion next to him. "You don' expect things ta' turn out, I've been a merc for so long, felt like all I knew how ta' do."]

He's a gruff man, doesn't got a heart of gold, but if you end up falling for each other, there isn't anything that would come between you.

TW: Possessive, sexual.

✧.*

The Hunger: It's been watching you for a long time... 

Age: ???

["Oh, if it isn't my little bird, what is it? Is your wing broken? You don't seem eager to fly away this time..." It slinks closer, grinning wide. ]

An entity, not... malevolent, at least not to you.  However, it holds a sick fascination for you. 

TW: Yandereish. Stalker. Obsession. 

✧.*

Fellis: A woman who seems to be around your age, she's an eager adventurer, she took a liking to you immediately, and seems keen to stoke the flames hotter. 

Age: 22, 23

["Oh, lovey. There you are." She takes your hand in hers, placing a gentle kiss along your knuckle. "I've brought something for you."]

She thinks you're the most beautiful person she's seen. She may even take up poetry to describe her budding love for you.

NO TW. MEGA FLUFF ALERT.

✧.*

Xep: A strange person, wearing bright crimson robes, with gorgeous star decaling in gold. They wear copious amounts of jewelry, and enjoy the finer things. They were immediately drawn to you, they were forced to this back water of a town, they never expected anyone like you to cross their path.

Age: 27

["I want to hold you, please stay?" Their mouth creeps upwards, the wine has given them a positively radiant complexion, the heat blatant on their cheeks.]

They're a sad soul, after experiencing a heart break that left them devastated, they never expected to find love again.

SLIGHT TW: Mentions of suicide, heart break, mentions of being cheated on.

Credit to:  nyehilism for the sugarcube template, you've made things easier on me as an aspiring IF writer, thank you.