#tree checkup

[treedoctorusasworld]

Expert Tree Health Checkup: Key Indicators to Watch

Trees, like humans, are living beings. Trees can get sick and die if you do not provide proper care to them. As a result, regular monitoring of the tree’s health becomes crucial. If you love your tree, then observe the condition of your tree from time to time. When you do so, you will notice many unfavorable changes in the tree, which indicates deteriorating tree health.

You may have to deal with a tree problem at some point in your life, such as diagnosing tree diseases or retaining health after a pest attack. In any case, trees are an essential part of your life, and you must ensure that they are healthy all the time. A sick tree will show signs of illness that are easy to spot if you know what to look for. Trees that are not in good health frequently have leaves that are not as vibrant and healthy as they should be. They can turn yellow or brown and even fall off too soon. You can take help from the expert for the accurate sick trees treatment, and free your tree from all stress and invasions.

Signs You Need To Lookout For Tree Health Inspection

1. Leaf and Canopy Thinning

Is the crown of the tree thinning? Your tree may be sick due to pest infestations or the spread of the diseases. Usually, unwanted invasions and attacks of disease block the transmission of nutrients and supplements in trees. This will cause leaf loss. It will be more evident on larger and matured trees as they have a lush canopy.

2. Tainted Leaves

The color of the tree’s leaves can reveal a lot about it. Leaves are an essential component of your tree. They aid in the conversion of solar energy into nutrients. They contain chlorophyll, which is essential for photosynthesis and turns leaves green.

Yellow or brown leaves, as well as leaves that fall prematurely, are indications that you should investigate further. When you notice the size of the leaves is not in proper shape or the color is yellow, suddenly take action. It is only due to the deficiency of micro and macro nutrients and other stresses. These deficiencies can occur due to waterlogging or some soil compaction.

3. Crown Regrowth

Like a small baby, the branches of the tree will grow every year. But whenever you realize that the size of your tree is not growing properly, immediately take some precautions or expert help. It is a sign that your tree’s entire branches are going to die.

4. Flaking Or Dead Bark

The bark shields the tree from different external stresses affecting health and vigor, such as storms, pests, insects, and diseases. Whenever you find some kind of sappy-like liquid oozing coming out from the trunk or stem of your tree, it indicates issues in the tissues. It is a prominent sign of bacterial or fungal infection. At times, you will even notice the spots of bleeding. Bark Beetles and Boring Insects enter the trunks, causing damage to the tissues.

5. Trunk Health

The trunk is one of the vital parts of the tree because it gives support to all branches of the tree. Also, it is responsible for several functions like water and nutrient transportation. It helps the tree maintain its shape and sturdiness by supporting the crown. The trunk is responsible for water transportation from root to branches of the tree. So, you have to keep an eye for cracks, wounds, cavities, bulges, etc., on the tree. However, all these signs indicate the structural damage of the trunk, and you need to call professionals for tree health management programs.

6. Roots Are Starting To Rot

If your roots are exposed and appear damaged, it is often one of the biggest signs a plant is vulnerable. Tree roots are essential as they anchor the tree to the ground and allow it to absorb nutrients, grow, and maintain health. The lifted ground or roots in severe conditions may disrupt trees’ delicate feeding system.

How To Identify Symptoms Of Unhealthy Trees

Everyone can’t diagnose the symptoms of the sick tree as the troubles at an early stage of a tree is found from the root of the tree, and it usually goes unnoticed to untrained eyes.

If you notice any of the following symptoms, call a certified tree health specialist right away to prevent an unhealthy tree from becoming dangerous. If nothing else, knowing that a professional has assessed your tree for potential hazards will put your mind at ease when the next storm arrives. Let’s discuss the symptoms of a diseased tree:

Examination Of Broken Branches

In the winter season, it can be tricky for you to check the tree’s health. An excessive number of broken branches is one observable sign. In the winter winds and ice, all trees will lose some branches. Trees that are suffering from health issues face branch loss issues. Whenever you notice that your tree has improper or thin branches, immediately call the professionals. They will retain the health of the branches.

Lean Trees

A leaning tree is another sign of trouble that you can see at any time of year. Strong trunks support the weight of branches and foliage in healthy trees. Normally, the dense wood can withstand the daily assaults of nature. In this regard, you can book your appointment with the experts. They will offer effective treatment to sick trees.

Unusual Grass

There are other signs to look for as the leaves begin to emerge in the spring. Unsurprisingly, unhealthy trees may have leaves that do not appear healthy. In the spring, you may notice leaves that are slow to develop. Leaves may also be of a different size or color. When the size of the leaves is not proper or not growing properly, it indicates healthcare problems in trees.

Leaves, Flowers, & Fruit Are Missing

Aside from being slow to appear or abnormal in shape, leaves are sometimes completely absent in a section of the tree. When your tree is not giving you flowers and fruits, it must be due to some disease. So when your trees are lacking in giving you fruits and flowers, call experts for optimum tree health management and recover their growth.

Fungi Growth

Whenever you inspect your garden and notice that mushrooms and fungus are present in the tree surrounding, you need to take prompt action. Mushrooms and fungus are only present if your tree suffers from invasions or stress. It gives you a sign to take immediate precautions or some medical help to protect the health of your tree.

Shoots In Unusual Locations

A healthy tree appears to be a normal tree. Its roots, trunk, and branches are all in proper shapes and grow every year. However, some trees appear to have branches growing from the tree’s base. While these are technically shot rather than branches, they are out of place and suggest that the tree may be in trouble.

Insect Invasion

Finally, the presence of pests is an obvious sign of an unhealthy tree. Other times, you may only see evidence that they were present. Eggs, chewed-up leaves, and sticky residue are signs of infestation. If you notice early that your tree is suffering from pest invasions, it might be easy for you to recover your tree health as soon as possible.

Thus, it is very essential for you to regularly check your tree health. If you pay proper attention to tree health, your tree will not get infected by harmful diseases and insects. If you detect a problem with a tree in an early stage, it also saves you the cost. So, whenever you suspect a problem with trees, plants, and shrubs, don’t haste to call experts for arborist consultation.

How To Tell If Your Tree Is Sick

A thorough visual examination is essential for quickly determining whether a tree requires maintenance or nourishment. Here’s how to properly examine a tree and determine expert assistance:

From the ground up, evaluate the tree.

Examine the roots for decay or fungi.

In the area of the trunk just above the soil, look for loose bark, cracks, or slits.

Examine the remainder of the trunk for cavities, swellings, or small holes.

Examine the canopy and the remaining branches for leaning limbs and leaf issues.

If the tree exhibits any of these symptoms upon visual inspection, contact a tree professional.

Conclusion

Comprehensive family tree health care is crucial in maintaining the health and vigor of trees. It is a great way to enhance the longevity of trees. If your tree is suffering from disease or damage, accurate and timely treatment can retain the health of trees, plants, and shrubs in your landscape. Call Tree Doctor USA to carry out the full inspection of your tree. They will precisely identify what’s wrong with your trees. Also, they will suggest the best course of treatment to make your unhealthy trees lively again.

Original Source: Top Signs You Need Comprehensive Tree Health Checkup

[ask-artsy-oncie]

Happy Birthday, Kit Cloudkicker :3

[giyuuslittleslave]

Giyuu Tomioka X Pregnant! Reader

Giyuu never once in his life expected to have a wife much less a child on the way, so when you told him you were expecting he thought it was a big fat prank and stood there waiting for the sike.

You: “I’m expecting!”

Him: “…”

You: “are you not excited?”

Him: “Oh…you were being serious. My apologies I was waiting for you to say ‘April fools’ or something of the sort.”

You: “it’s the middle of July Giyuu…”

He would not show much excitement on the outside but on the inside he was extremely happy, worried, but happy. He spent most of his time searching for items to buy for his unborn child over the months you were pregnant. on his missions, whenever he would pass markets or any little shopping area, he would stop there on his way back home and pick up anything he thought was cute for the baby.

You told him in your second trimester that if the baby was a boy you could name him and if it was a girl he could name her. He made sure you had regular visits to shinobu’s estate and if you were not feeling up to it he would make her walk all the way from her estate to his so you could have your checkup there. He was completely enamored by you during your pregnancy, even more so than when you had just fallen in love with each other. He adored the changes in your body, like the swell of your breasts with milk and the slight widening of your hips. He especially liked when you would call on him to massage your breasts whenever they were feeling tender, he does not enjoy your pain but he does love touching tits.

He made sure that your futon was extra comfortable at night and even acquired more comfortable pillows and bedding for it, he was barely asleep during the night always listening to your breathing and monitoring the rise in your chest as you slept, he made sure that you were most comfortable and stayed to himself during the night unless you wanted him to cuddle or spoon you, to which he gladly obliged.

He spoiled you rotten during your pregnancy and always made sure that your needs and all your wants were met. You wanted a food combination that was only acquirable by walking three miles downhill to the nearest market? He’s walking three miles down hill to the nearest market with a pouch filled with gold coins, making sure to pick up extra things for both you and the baby.

In your third trimester Giyuu was a little bit on edge. He realized that the final battle was coming up sooner than he had expected and he was starting to worry and get scared that he might not be there to raise your child with you. So late at night after he’s made sure that you were comfortable in bed he would get up and go outside shirtless to train his ass off by himself, his old crow nested in a tree watching his every move while trying to stay awake. He would take a quick shower and slip back in bed at the crack of dawn before you woke up to make it looked like he slept the whole night, he would get three hours of sleep a night tops.

One night you finally catch him in the act.

“Dinner was great as always honey.” He kissed your forehead as he slipped into bed with you at 9 pm, you hummed in response and closed your eyes, pretending to sleep.

Ten minutes or so later, Giyuu slowed lifted himself from the futon and took up his blade, he tiptoed outside of the estate and went into the back yard to start training again. You got up after three minutes of his absence and tiptoed your way to the backyard. There he was, swinging his sword at the air as sweat dripped down his body. You stood at the door with you hands crossed under your breasts as you stared at him, he doesn’t seem to notice you.

He had dropped his guard around you and overtime he just stopped being on edge whenever he knew you were around, so he hadn’t noticed you because of how comfortable he was around you, you weren’t a threat.

However after a few minutes of standing there, your feet began to hurt and you cleared your throat to get his attention. He stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened a bit, he slowly turned to face you with a look on his face that could only be described as pure guilt, you know when you catch a child doing something they’re aren’t supposed to be doing and they make that face? Yeah that was Giyuu, he placed his blade on the ground beside his and rubbed his left elbow with his right palm, avoiding your gaze.

“Giyuu…you’re overworking yourself. We talked about this…” your voice was soft, like butter. He looked up into your eyes and sighed, “I know but-“

You cut him off, “aht aht. No buts. I don’t want you working anymore than you need to. You train enough during the day okay? Please just…come back to bed.” You yawn and rub your eyes, clearly tired. He walks up to you and tucks your hair behind your ear, before brushing his nose against yours, he places a haste kiss your lips and smiles. “Okay.” You smile back at him and nod, “okay then.” You try to pull him inside but he stays still, you turn and give him a weird look. “I’m sweaty.” He says, you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck, “I can handle a little sweat Giyuu, plus your going to be covered with a lot more than just sweat next week when we do that water birth.” You sigh at the thought of doing a water birth, it kind of weirds you out, but you’re gonna do it to make Giyuu happy since he suggested it.

He chuckles and nods “I guess you’re right. Let’s head to bed then.” You chuckle along with him and kiss his lips once more, “yeah let’s do that, and no more sneaking out okay?” He smiles lovingly at you while staring into your beautiful eyes, “Okay.” He hugs you and rubs his hand over your belly you look down at his hands and smile, he hesitates for a moment before speaking.

“If…if the baby is a girl, I would like to name her something similar to my sister, to honor her.” You nod and look up at him waiting for him to finish. “If she is a girl, I would like her name to be Tsuyuri.” You smiled softly at him and nodded, his look softened and he smiled back at you before kissing you three times quickly on your lips. He lifted you bridal style and you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you towards your shared futon.

Lemme know if you want a part two😊🤍

[gayeddieagenda]

❤️ 🎵 Number 9 if you’re still doing the prompts? thank you!! I hope you’re having a good day!

another scene prompt game! - 9: listening to the other’s heartbeat + ❤️ 🎵

--

“Huh,” Buck says.

Eddie knocks his ankle against Buck’s. “What?”

“I’m not trying to freak you out,” Buck says. He has his serious face on and that, more than anything, makes Eddie squint at him, suspicious. “When was the last time you went to the doctor?”

“Buck,” Eddie says. “I had a checkup a month ago, jackass.”

“Texas doctors?” Buck says skeptically. Eddie huffs at him. Buck adjusts his grip on Eddie’s arm, pressing his index and middle fingers more firmly into Eddie’s wrist. “It’s probably nothing. It’s just, I can’t find your pulse.”

Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, Buck!”

“I’m being serious!” Buck tries another spot on Eddie’s wrist, then another, shaking his head both times: nothing. “You should definitely have a pulse.”

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, deadpan. “What if I’m already dead?”

Six months. Eddie waited six months to see Buck in person again. Buck had made a noise like a dying animal on the phone, when they realized that he was going to be in the first hour of a 48-hour shift when Eddie and Chris got in from Texas.

Then, when Bobby asked if Eddie wanted to be scheduled for the last 24 hours of the same shift or wait four more days until his first shift back, Eddie signed on for the earlier shift without thinking twice about it. It meant not waiting a second longer to be back where he belongs—at the 118, on the job. It also meant this: seeing Buck for the first time since…since Texas, since everything, surrounded by all their coworkers.

“Don’t worry,” Buck says. “I have something else I can try.”

Buck releases Eddie’s hand. Eddie draws his arm back to his body, unconsciously reaching his other hand up to grip his wrist where Buck’s hand had been holding him a second ago.

Buck gestures at Eddie’s neck. “Can I—”

“Go ahead.”

“I don’t want to say it,” Buck said. His voice was low and frustrated through the phone. “Not like this.”

��Sorry,” Eddie said, feeling furious, feeling lightheaded. Feeling alone, in a silent Texas house three sizes too big for him. “This is it. I’m here. You’re there. If you’re pissed at me, I’d rather you just tell me.”

Buck reaches for the collar of Eddie’s turnouts. He peels back the velcro strip covering the neck, then undoes the top snaps—one, two, three. He hooks two fingers of one hand on Eddie’s chin, tilting his head back. Sets two fingers of his other hand on Eddie’s neck, just below his jaw, in the divot just behind his trachea, just in front of the muscle.

It’s stupid. Eddie’s fine. He fell down, that’s all. He was rounding a corner to get back to the engine when a kid came sprinting around the other side, running at full force. She ran headfirst into his stomach and they both went sprawling on the grass. Buck caught up to them first, checking over the kid and giving her a sticker after telling her she should consider a career in wrestling. Eddie pushed himself up from the ground, angling to sneak back to the engine and drop off his gear. Buck caught his arm, giving him a where do you think you’re going? look.

So, now they’re here. Sitting in the back of the ambulance, parked in South Pasadena at two in the morning, Chimney’s classic rock radio station still playing quietly from the front seats. The kitchen fire that called them out was put out half an hour ago, but when the upstairs neighbor cracked his door to figure out what had brought a fire truck to his driveway, his cat bolted. Chim spotted her up a tree in the backyard—literally, a cat stuck in a tree. It doesn’t get much more stereotypical than that.

Chimney’s got it handled, apparently, though it’s been twenty minutes and he and the cat are both still in the tree. Eventually, he’s going to get the cat down or some new emergency will materialize from nothing and someone will come looking for Buck and Eddie—but for now, for a minute, they’re alone.

The pads of Buck’s fingers are gentle on the side of Eddie’s neck. His hands are warm. Buck presses in, just enough pressure on Eddie’s throat for him to feel it.

He’s looking Eddie in the eye while he touches him. Eddie looks back. He takes in a slow breath, feeling his throat expand under Buck’s hand. Watches Buck blink back at him. They’re so close like this, Eddie can see where Buck missed a spot shaving just below his sideburns, where Buck’s hair dried flat to his head when he had to pull on his helmet straight out of the shower. He can see where his eyes are crinkling at the corners, like he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“Nope,” Buck says. “Still nothing.”

“Oh, no,” Eddie says dryly. “Do you need to start CPR?”

“I’m sure I can think of something else before it comes to that.”

“I’m not taking off my pants for you to check my femoral.”

“I wasn’t going to do that, Eddie. We’re at work.”

Buck takes his hand off Eddie’s neck. Eddie misses it immediately.

He backs up a little, as far as he can get in the cramped quarters of the ambulance. He rests his hands on his hips, giving Eddie an assessing look.

“I’m not pissed at you,” Buck said, voice low. “That’s why I don’t want to have this conversation now.”

“When do you want to have it?” Eddie asked. He’s angry, and he’s picking a fight, and he can’t stop himself, when this is how he gets to talk to Buck now: in broken halves of conversations, eight hundred miles away. “When you visit in six months? When Chris graduates high school in four years?”

“Come on,” Buck said. “That’s not fair.”

“Then tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“Would you like my opinion?” Eddie asks.

“Pretty sure I’m the firefighter here, thanks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Didn’t realize.”

“Here,” Buck says.

His hands are back on Eddie’s jacket, undoing the rest of the snaps and opening his jacket. He hooks a hand in Eddie’s suspenders, pulling lightly at them, adjusting Eddie until he’s sitting on the edge of the gurney, knees between Buck’s legs. Eddie goes easily.

Buck places a hand on Eddie’s chest, above his heart.

They’re at work, Eddie reminds himself. It’s two in the morning and it’s Pasadena, it’s the distant sound of Chimney going here, kitty-kitty, and the low hum of the radio.

Buck glances at the ambulance doors. They left them open a crack, but all they can see through the gap is the empty street, cast in yellow and red from the streetlamps and the fire engine lights. No one’s looking for them.

Buck turns back to Eddie. He leans in in one movement, replacing his hand with his ear to Eddie’s chest.

It’s awkward, kind of. The ambulance isn’t exactly roomy and Buck is folded in at a weird angle to get his face to Eddie’s chest. Eddie knows he still smells like the kitchen fire, like smoke and burnt fish and sweat. Any second, someone’s going to realize they disappeared and come barging through the ambulance doors and into this, into the tableau that is Buck leaning on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie breathes, chest rising and falling. Buck moves with it.

He was scared to see Buck again. He can admit that now, with Buck in front of him, the way he couldn’t when he was still in El Paso.

There’s a conversation they’ve been waiting to have. They started it a month ago, on the phone, Buck in his loft and Eddie in the kitchen of his rented house in El Paso. By now, Eddie’s pretty sure he’s figured out where this conversation is going to end. He knows he’s not going to find out here, in the back of an ambulance in Pasadena.

They decided, by mutual agreement, that they wouldn’t touch it until after the shift. They kept their word. Instead, Buck’s been doing…this. Messing with Eddie. Sticking close to him. Touching him, under the barest pretense of medical necessity.

It—this, them—has been an idea in Eddie’s head for so long that he started to lose track of what it was, exactly, that he was waiting for. It doesn’t feel real, that Buck could say something on the phone and a month later Eddie could be in Los Angeles again, cashing checks they wrote when they were eight hundred miles apart.

“I’m not angry with you, Eddie,” Buck said, low, into a phone speaker in Los Angeles. Into Eddie’s ear, in an empty room in El Paso. “I’m in love with you.”

Buck’s head resting on Eddie’s chest is real.

It’s right here. It’s the easiest thing in the world, for Eddie to put his hand on the back of Buck’s neck, where the soft ends of his hair curl. For him to breathe in, slow, and feel the weight of Buck leaning on him.

“Yeah,” Buck says finally. His voice is quiet in the back of his throat. Eddie can feel it in his chest. “Found it.”

[harridansibyl]

Personal associations/interpretations of the dark/mystical houses (4th, 6th, 8th, 12th)

4th house

twisted tree roots, cultural practices, heirlooms, photo albums, inherited features, traditions, the mother, past lives, generational trauma, picture books, garden beds, childhood homes, ancestor altars, hand written recipe books, hearth, squeaky wooden floorboards, genealogy archives, caves, oak trees, baby wrap carriers, emotional security, cultural heritage, building foundations, photo albums, genetics, laundry lines, swing sets, property, mines, crops, sanctuaries, the chest and heart, home steads, fields, farms, root cellars, harvests, pots on stoves, brooms, backyards, agriculture, vines on trellises, handmade blankets, grandparents house, laundry baskets, attachment styles, singing lullabies, history, deep emotions, instincts, the unconscious, summer, waxing moon, vase of flowers, bath time, picking berries, celebrating holidays, chicken coops, older sisters, family gatherings, stone paths, forest walks, ancient structures/buildings, ancestral languages, cupboards, staying in

6th house

vitamins and supplements, morning routines, pharmacies, tasks and lists, doctors offices, health food stores, stomach medicine, hygiene practices, journals and planners, schedules, herbal teas, personal rituals, emergency kits, dog walks, lymphatic drainage, caregiving, donating blood, examinations and checkups, meditation, colour coordination, sticky notes, gastrointestinal problems, folded laundry, labels on everything, retirement homes, hand washing, braided hair, herb gardens, filing cabinets, face masks, kombucha, detailed diagrams, volunteer work, medicine cabinets, cleaning supplies, shelves, acts of service, skin care, organic linen, gauze and stitches, stress-induced illnesses, essential oil/herb baths, house plants, instructions, repetition, holistic medicine, giving advice, yoga studios, "gut feeling," bone broth

8th house

altars, divination, near death experiences, candle wax, feeling crushed by a heavy weight, grave dirt, red/dim lighting, funerals, double income, control, the underworld, cheques, insurance, heirlooms, ghost sightings, power imbalances, crime documentaries, ouroboros, bank accounts, grief and loss, shadow work, the womb, manipulation, scrying mirrors, Russian nesting dolls, keys, mortuaries, tests from the universe, pendulums, crime scene tape, the phoenix, projections, credit scores, animal bones on a forest floor, blood stained sheets, metaphysical shops, spiritual attacks, deep emotions, snakes, dead flowers, late autumn, wedding veils, envelopes, full moon, muddy boots, shadows at the corners of your vision, scarab beetles, inner processing, experiencing crisis, inherited possessions, natural disasters, sexual trauma, psychological studies, ancestral connections, cracked dolls, veil between realms, mental illnesses, deep connections, intimacy, reincarnation, torture devices, keys, whirlpools, the sound of sirens, unconscious fears, intense first impressions, pushing limits, feeling bound, scratches on walls, ten of swords

12th house

abandoned places, liminal spaces, long winters, shadowy figures, reoccurring dreams, repeated patterns, fog-filled forests, self analysation, inner worlds, cave systems, unfinished basements, hallucinations, solitary confinement, empty parking garages, spiral staircases, substance abuse, trapped in purgatory, hidden beneath the surface, maladaptive daydreaming, hospital hallways, confines of society, waning moon, moths, wandering aimlessly, disconnection from the world, psych wards, healing others, tired eyes or dark circles, chronic mental illness, suppression, addictions, hiding places, overnight shifts, unexplainable experiences, past life karma, exhaustion, cobwebs, others projections, catacombs, bird cages, premonitions in dreams, prescription bottles, self destructive patterns, late night walks, misty lakes, the feeling of walking out of the movie theater at night, identity crises, blurred faces, empty public transport, astral projection, comas, diary entries, dissociative episodes, shape shifting, generational trauma, observing people, mirrors, padded rooms, the afterlife, chain link fences, paradoxes, feeling misunderstood, repression or memory loss, hikikomori, the freeze response, disappearance, waiting rooms

[xoxoxkisses]

Crush Crush Crush!

Muichiro x reader

warnings: none

pure fluff

~~~ Muichiro often followed you around wherever you went. Training? He was there watching closely. Checkup at the butterfly mansion? He stood outside of your room. A random town? He followed to keep you “safe”. You didn’t mind it however, in fact you found it adorable.

You and Muichiro were the same age. Everyone thought that’s why he tagged along with you, but that wasn’t the case. Muichiro realized his heart beat faster and he felt nervous when he was around you. He grew protective over you despite you being just as strong as him.

~~~ Today was no different. You were doing your usual training, and as usual, Muichiro was watching. Today however, you could feel Muichiro’s eyes on you. Heavily at that.

Muichiro was mesmerized by the way you gracefully practiced your breathing forms. He barely noticed how his heart started beating faster. It felt, normal. He watched you wipe the sweat off your face with your sleeve, and for some reason that flustered him.

You glanced over at him and saw how red his face was. You sighed as you decided you had trained enough for the day and walked towards him. His face grew redder and his heart beat faster. You smiled softly at him as you sat next to him under the big shade tree.

He couldn’t return the gesture, he was too flustered. Despite just getting done with training, you were still so effortlessly beautiful. He noticed how you let out a big sigh. He glanced over at you and saw your head tipped up and your eyes closed.

The cool breeze blew around the two of you. Birds chirped peacefully. The comfortable silence suddenly grew uncomfortable for him. He looked over at you, and just stared. You could feel his eyes on you. You huffed out a soft laugh.

You turned your head towards him. “So are you going to keep staring at me, or do you have something to say?” A sly smile crept upon your face as you watched him look away instantly. “I-I..uh,” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I do have something to say.”

The smile slowly left your face as you stared at him with a shocked expression. But you nodded. “Ok..what is it?” He looked up at you. “Look I..” he paused for a moment, “I like you.” Muichiro’s face grew red again, and this time so did yours. Your mouth hung wide. Before it curled into a smile. You reached for his hands, and held them up to you.

“I feel the same Muichiro.” He smiled before breaking out into a laugh. “Thank you Y/n. I really appreciate that.” Suddenly to your shock, he pulled you into a hug. He held you there for a moment before pulling away. You both smiled at one another, trying to suppress your excitement.

Now it made sense why he followed you around like a dog. A cute dog at that, so you weren’t complaining!

~~~

I finally posted. Let’s see how long it will take before I post another one ;3

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW sanemi post. obsessed with this stupid gif of him. This turned out way longer than i thought it would. Humiliating.

TW / fem genitals reader / he like, huffs your crotch. I know that turns some people off but he's not right in the head don't worry about it/you beg to get pregnant but like, you're not right in the head either-

Thinking about having a normal day with Sanemi, but something is off. Like- off, off. He's more silent than usual, and somewhat adverse to your touch.

He's not being cruel, he just seems almost confused? He's blinking more than usual, and looks to be almost dissociating during normal investigative tasks.

So okay. Whatever. You figure he needs a cool off day, you stop bothering him. The day winds down, and you and Sanemi are left cleaning up- normal.

Sanemi steps away from the scene, from you and the Kakashi for just a moment. Says he needs to piss. Normally you'd insist he'd get medical help, but the demon was miniscule, really. Maybe he got a new little knick. Nothing insane.

After your checkup, it's been maybe 30 minutes. Nobodies bladder is that big. You start to get a little worried. Not that he wasn't a pillar or whatever the hell, but still. He was your lover, and you liked for him to be in one piece and not wandering the woods at night.

So you venture off in the direction you saw him go- and it doesn't take you very long to find him. And when you do you're floored.

Sanemi has hunkered down at the base of a rather large tree. The first thing you see to indicate it's him is that snow white hair- standing out starch against all the deep green and brown-

And the second thing you note is the quiver of his body, and the almost animalistic speed of his arm, pumping furiously at his cock. Sanemi isn't a moaner by any means, but he is uninhibited now, thinking his voice is lost to the forest. He's all but crying.

One knee is bent up, pushing him against the tree, the other digging into the ground- his legs are open enough for his dick to be on full display. His pants are pulled down just enough to offer his cock freedom.

After a couple of hard jerks, he yanks his hand away to throw his head back. His feet press hard into the ground-

This state isn't enough to stop him from realizing you're there, though. It's seconds after you get within sight of him that Sanemi is scrambling to cover himself. He almost folds up like a lawn chair, but even the graze of his clothed thigh against his tip has him reeling.

'You need to leave.' He huffs,, voice shredded and throat dry.

'You look like you're in pain- are you o-okay?' You whispered.

'No!' He choked out. 'It's been like this all day it hurts so fucking bad.' His eyes looked like saucers. His face was blistering. He didn't add that it got worse everytime you opened your mouth or moved or hell- blinked. He felt vile, really. There wasn't anything particularly special about you today. He was just- terribly down for you.

You carefully made your way over to him.

'Don't look!' He spat. A hand flew up to your eyes instinctively. You immediately began to miss his miserable state, but you continued toward him. 'Y/N I swear to- fuck me- shi-hitt.' He slurred as your hand found the top of his head. His hair was soft, though his head was warm. You could feel a miniscule amount of sweat gathering at the base.

He'd immediately melt into your hand, all pleas of embrassment dissapearing, though the feeling wouldn't just leave. You hear him shuffle.

'You shouldn't have to see me like this-' He'd choke out, not knowing how pretty he looked. His head would crane up to your crotch, burying his face against the fabric. The scent was insanity inducing, driving his nose further up against your clit.

'Fuck' He'd slur 'I'm disgusting- I'm sorry-'

'I'm sorry you're so worked up.' You laughed a bit. 'Is there anything I can do to help?'

'You- fuck- come down here.' He mumbled, tugging at your pants. You knelt down next to him. He'd reach into your pants, not bothering to tug them down. You stayed silent, despite the sudden fingers spreading your slit open.

You could feel him begin to shake again, beating his dick with another low whine.

You'd take it upon yourself to pull your pants down. You'd laugh as his breathe would catch in his throat at the sight.

'Spread your legs.' He'd demand. You'd do as told and the noise he'd let out at the sight of your now sticky thighs and dripping cunt would be carnal. His hand would struggle to stabilize against your hip, fluttering on and off, gripping and grazing. He'd seem afraid to touch you. 'Ah, for me?' He'd croak out, trying to be suave and safe face, but even he released he couldn't manage it.

'Sanemi I want to- I want to open my eyes really bad.'

'You cant- see me like this. I'm a mess, you're not- ngh- ah-- god- missing anything.' He'd slip a finger in you with ease. Adding another a moment later. Despite the painful speed at which he was going with his own cock, Sanemi's hand with you was a much slower speed. Still a little rough and jagged, but more interested in staying inside of you, palm flat against your clit.

You'd bite your lip.

He didn't want you to look because he was sure he must look insane right now. Moreso than usual. He didn't want to blink and miss even a moment of seeing your pussy sucking on his fingers, so he wasn't. A blank, slack jaw stare at your pussy.

He didn't want you to look because he wanted to be rough with his dick. He wanted to edge. To be unsightly when he was done, face and chest red and blotchy- sweat pouring down him. He needed to just fucking let go. The ache had been weighing his limbs down the entire day, begging him to fuck you against anything, and infront of everyone. After killing that demon, it took an incredible show of strength to not bend you down next to the thing and give it something to take to the grave-

Sanemi would never do that- which is why he looked the way he looked right now, because he was really hating how close he got.

He'd finally pull out, taking his hand away from his twitching cock and over to your waist. He lifted you carefully up and over his lap until you were knelt above him.

'Can I see your chest?' He'd ask.

'Can I open my eyes?' You'd return, finally getting huffy. Sanemi practically barked. You could hear his teeth grinding together.

'No!' Sanemi shook his head. 'I'm pathetic right now, Y/N! Why would you possibly want to look at mw while I'm like this?'

'Because it was really hot.' You responded with little hesitation and full desperation, unable to rub your legs together like you really wanted. 'I really want to see you when you come- want to see your pretty face.'

'I'm not pretty.'

'You are!' You'd choke.

'You're pretty, I'm not pretty.' Sanemi mumbled.

'We can both be pretty.' You'd reason. Sanemi would huff. It took a moment of silence, the forest chirping and breathing beneath you all-

'If- if you open your eyes, you can't laugh at me.'

'I won't, I swear.' Sanemi's hand found your collar, and began to slowly unbutton it. Your eyes would flutter open, and you'd just swoon.

His eyes were so lax, so focused on your face and so- drunk. He looked like his breathe was going to stop any second. His chest was as flushed as his face. The fingers that had been inside of you had found their way to his lips.

He looked so fucked.

Your breath would shutter at the sight, your knees would almost give way- begging for his cock inside of you on a purely physical level-

You reached down, pulling his erection up to align with your hole- but Sanemi's hand reached out to grab you by the wrist.

'If I fuck you right now, I'm going to cum in seconds. No.' He choked. 'I'm not going to do that. I can't cum in you, I won't.' He'd fret.

'I want it.' You'd plead. His whole body would faulter. 'I won't get pregnant, I promise. I just- I want your cum in me-' your hand tightened around his cock, and your words rang in his ears.

'No we can't- Oh fuck- oh god-' With your hand still latched around his dick, Sanemi's back shot up and off the tree. His hands would reach up to latch over his lips and prevent the ovary shattering scream he wanted to loose. His eyes would roll back, feet digging into the ground-

His cum would absolutely paint your pussy. It'd splatter against your slit, and then drip back down onto his cock, spiraling down to his balls-

You'd never seen so much cum. It pooled against the waistband of his pants- spilling down his hips.

Sanemi would be left nonverbal after this, hands dropping to his chest to tighten around his haori- He'd look shocked, wide eyed and alert.

And very, very humiliated.

[shiorihyugawrites]

Owned - Eren x Reader Modern AU

You were hired to sing at the most exclusive lounge in Paradis City—classy, high-end, and quietly owned by none other than the infamous Eren Jaeger. The moment he sees you on stage, he’s hooked.

You try to resist. He’s your boss. He’s dangerous. He’s taken.

But Eren doesn’t take no for an answer.

He showers you in gifts, whispers promises against your skin, and drags you into a world of dark secrets and criminal power. Even as guilt and jealousy twist inside you, the heat between you burns out of control.

He has a girlfriend. He doesn’t care.

And when he finally claims you? He makes sure you know one thing—you belong to him.

Part Five: Surrender

Four Months Later…

The clinic’s waiting room was a sterile cocoon of pastel blues and whites, the air faintly scented with antiseptic and the soft hum of a coffee machine in the corner. You sat on a cushioned chair, one hand resting on your growing belly, the other clutching your phone, where a Pinterest board of nursery ideas glowed on the screen. 

At twenty weeks pregnant, your baby bump was more pronounced, a gentle curve beneath your flowy sage-green dress, its empire waist chosen for comfort and confidence. Today was special—a checkup that promised to reveal the gender of your child, a milestone that filled you with a nervous excitement that danced in your chest. The fears that had plagued you when you first discovered your pregnancy had softened over the weeks, replaced by a cautious hope, a determination to embrace this new chapter despite the chaos that had birthed it.

Ellie and Morgan had been your anchors, their unwavering support a lifeline through the whirlwind of the past months. They’d held your hand at every appointment, laughed with you over late-night takeout, and helped you navigate the emotional labyrinth of impending motherhood. You’d sold most of Eren’s extravagant gifts—the diamond necklaces, the designer dresses, the luxury sunglasses—turning his tokens of deceit into practical funds for your future. The money had kept you afloat, covering rent, groceries, and baby essentials while you searched for a new job. You’d held onto the Chanel purses, though, their sleek leather too perfect to part with, a small indulgence in a life now defined by necessity.

Finding work hadn’t been easy, especially pregnant, but Ellie’s sister, a corporate recruiter with a knack for pulling strings, had landed you an administrative job at a mid-sized law firm. The work was mundane—filing documents, scheduling meetings, answering phones—but it paid well, offered benefits, and, crucially, they’d hired you despite your visible bump. You were grateful, even if the office’s fluorescent lights and endless spreadsheets were a far cry from the stage lights and soulful melodies of Jaeger’s Lounge. Singing, your dream, was on hold, but you hadn’t given up; you hummed lullabies to your belly at night, promising your child you’d find a way back to music one day.

Your old one-bedroom apartment, once a haven of memories both sweet and bitter, was too small for your new reality. You’d moved to a two-bedroom space in a quieter part of Paradis, the extra room destined to be your baby’s nursery. The enchanted forest theme had taken root in your imagination, inspired by countless Pinterest boards—moss-green walls, fairy lights, a mural of whimsical trees you’d painted yourself, stroke by careful stroke. 

You’d spent hours assembling a secondhand crib, draping it with soft muslin, and arranging stuffed animals—a fox, an owl, a deer—on a shelf you’d hung with Morgan’s help. The nursery was a labor of love, a tangible promise to your child that you’d give them a world filled with magic, even if your own felt fractured.

But the shadow of Eren loomed large. True to his word, he’d provided financially, covering every clinic visit, prenatal vitamin, and baby expense without hesitation. He’d wired money for a new stroller you’d mentioned in passing, paid for a prenatal yoga class Morgan had recommended, and even offered to cover your rent when he learned you’d taken a job. “You should be resting,” he’d said over the phone, his voice earnest but tinged with frustration. “I can provide for you. You don’t need to work.” 

You’d accepted his money, depositing it into a savings account as an emergency fund, but you hadn’t quit your job. Trusting Eren again was a risk you couldn’t afford, not after his lies, and definitely not with your baby depending on you. You needed a backup plan, a safety net for the day he might change his mind—or betray you again.

Eren was in turmoil, a fact you gleaned from the rare glimpses you allowed him. He’d been trying to prove his love, his commitment, bombarding you with texts and calls that veered from baby logistics to desperate pleas for reconciliation. “I love you,” he’d say, his voice raw over the line. “I want to be in your life, in our baby’s life. Let me fix this.” You kept your responses curt, focused on the child—appointment dates, ultrasound costs, crib recommendations—shutting down any talk of us. “We were never truly a couple, Eren,” you’d told him once, your voice cold despite the ache in your heart. “You made sure of that.” You’d even used Ellie or Morgan as intermediaries when his persistence grew too heavy, their fierce loyalty a buffer against his charm.

But today was different. Neither Ellie nor Morgan could make the appointment—Ellie was stuck in a deadline crunch at her graphic design job, Morgan was visiting her sick grandmother out of town—and the thought of learning your baby’s gender alone felt unbearable. You’d wrestled with inviting Eren, pacing your apartment, weighing the risk of letting him closer against the desire to share this moment with someone, anyone. 

In the end, you’d texted him, your fingers trembling: Clinic appt today, 2 PM. Gender reveal. You can come if you want. His reply was instant, a flurry of gratitude and promises to be there, and you’d steeled yourself, reminding yourself this was for the baby, not him.

Now, in the exam room, you lay on the padded table, the paper crinkling beneath you, your dress hiked up to expose your belly, slick with ultrasound gel. The room was small, its walls adorned with posters of fetal development and breastfeeding tips, the air cool and clinical. Eren sat in a chair beside you, his large frame hunched forward, his black button-down rolled up to his elbows. His hair was tied back, loose strands framing his face, and his emerald eyes were fixed on the ultrasound screen, his fingernails bitten to the quick, a nervous habit you hadn’t noticed before. He radiated tension, his knee bouncing, his breath uneven, and you caught the faint scent of his cologne—sandalwood and musk—a reminder of nights you’d rather forget.

The doctor, a middle-aged woman named Dr. Lin with a warm smile and steady hands, adjusted the ultrasound wand, the screen flickering with grainy images of your baby. “Alright,” she said, her voice soothing, “let’s take a look at your little one. Everything’s looking good so far—heart rate’s strong, growth is on track.”

You nodded, your heart racing, your hand instinctively resting on your bump. “I’m so excited,” you said, your voice soft but bright. “I’ve been waiting for this. I just want to know who they are.”

Dr. Lin smiled, her eyes crinkling. “I love these moments,” she said, moving the wand, the screen shifting to show a clearer profile—tiny limbs, a curved spine, a head with a button nose. “Your baby’s being cooperative today. Let’s see if we can get a good angle.”

Eren leaned closer, his chair creaking, his eyes wide with awe. “That’s… that’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for you but thought better of it.

You glanced at him, your expression guarded. “Yeah,” you said, your tone neutral, focusing on the screen.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, quickly blinked away. “You look… you’re glowing,” he said, his voice low, hesitant. “I mean it. You’re beautiful.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, your eyes flicking to his, a warning in your gaze. “I invited you for the baby, Eren. Not for this.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t push. “Sorry,” he muttered, his eyes returning to the screen, his fingers drumming on his knee.

Dr. Lin, sensing the tension, kept her focus on the ultrasound, her voice calm. “Okay, here we go,” she said, adjusting the wand. “I’ve got a clear view now. Congratulations, you’re expecting a baby girl.”

The words hit you like a burst of sunlight, your breath catching, a smile breaking across your face. “A girl?” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, your hand pressing against your belly. “I’m having a daughter?”

Dr. Lin nodded, her smile warm. “A healthy baby girl,” she confirmed, pointing to the screen. “See here? That’s the anatomy we look for. She’s perfect.”

You laughed, a sound of pure joy, your tears spilling over. “A girl,” you repeated, your voice trembling with wonder. “Oh my God, I’m gonna have a daughter.”

Eren’s face lit up, a rare, unguarded smile breaking through his turmoil, his eyes glistening. “A girl,” he echoed, his voice raw, his hand covering his mouth as if to hold in the emotion. “We’re having a daughter.”

You glanced at him, your joy tempered by caution, but you couldn’t deny the shared moment, the weight of this truth binding you, if only for now. “Yeah,” you said, your voice softer, your eyes returning to the screen, where your daughter’s tiny form moved, a miracle you’d created despite everything.

Dr. Lin printed the ultrasound images, handing them to you with a smile. “I’ll give you two a moment,” she said, wiping the gel from your belly. “I’ll have the nurse schedule your next appointment. Congratulations again.”

She left, the door clicking shut, leaving you and Eren in the quiet, the hum of the ultrasound machine fading. You sat up, smoothing your dress, clutching the images, your heart still racing with the news. A daughter. Your daughter.

Eren stood, his hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes searching yours. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick. ���For letting me be here. For this. A girl… I can’t believe it.”

You nodded, your expression guarded. “You deserved to know,” you said, your voice steady. “She’s your daughter, too.”

He took a step closer, his eyes pleading. “I want to be there for her,” he said, his voice urgent. “For you. I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you, but I’m trying. I’m paying for everything, I’ll keep paying, but I want more than that. I want to be her dad, not just a cheque.”

You sighed, standing, your hand resting on your bump, the ultrasound images tucked under your arm. “Eren, we’ve been over this,” you said, your voice firm but tired. “I appreciate the money, I do. But trust isn’t something you can buy. You lied to me, you broke me. I’m not letting you back in, not like that. You can be in her life, but that’s it.”

His face fell, pain flashing in his eyes, but he nodded, his jaw tight. “I get it,” he said, his voice low. “I fucked up, and I’ll live with that forever. But I’m not giving up. I’ll keep showing up, for her, for you. I’ll prove I’m not that guy anymore.”

You shook your head, your heart aching despite your resolve. “Words, Eren,” you said, your voice soft but cutting. “They’re just words. For now, you’re here for her. That’s enough.”

He nodded, his eyes glistening, and you saw the effort it took for him to hold back, to respect your boundaries. “Okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take what you give me. But I’m not going anywhere.”

You turned toward the door, pausing to glance back at him, his tall frame silhouetted against the exam room’s stark light, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of love and regret. “I’ll text you the next appointment,” you said, your voice neutral. “And the bills.”

He nodded, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll be there,” he said, his voice steady. 

You left the room, the ultrasound images pressed to your chest, your daughter’s existence a beacon of hope amidst the wreckage of your past. A girl. Your girl. As you walked through the clinic, the weight of Eren’s presence lingered, a reminder of the man he’d been and the man he was trying to become.

But outside, the clinic’s glass doors framed a world turned liquid, the rain hammering down in relentless sheets, transforming the parking lot into a shimmering mosaic of puddles and reflections. 

You cussed under your breath, the word sharp and low, as you stared at the downpour. You didn’t have a car, had relied on the subway to get here, but the platform was a good ten-minute walk, and the thought of trudging through this deluge, pregnant and unprotected, was unthinkable.

You pulled out your phone, the ultrasound images tucked safely under your arm, and opened the Uber app, hoping for a quick ride home. The screen loaded, and your heart sank. The price surge was obscene—nearly $200 for a trip that usually cost $30—and the map showed no drivers nearby, the little car icons maddeningly absent. 

“Just my luck,” you muttered, your thumb hovering over the app, your mind racing. That kind of money could buy a month’s worth of diapers, a new onesie set, or half a prenatal yoga class. You glanced outside again, the rain showing no mercy, and checked your weather app. The forecast was grim: heavy rain for the next three hours, with thunderstorms rolling in. You were stuck.

Behind you, Eren emerged from the exam room. His eyes flicked to the windows, taking in the storm, then settled on you, a flicker of concern softening his features. He knew you didn’t drive, knew the subway was your usual lifeline, and he could guess the rideshare situation without asking. In his mind, this was a chance—an opportunity to spend more than a fleeting moment with you, to talk, to bridge the chasm his lies had carved. But he treaded carefully, his voice low and cautious as he approached.

“Hey,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s pretty bad out there. Let me give you a ride home.”

“No,” you said, your voice sharp, automatic, your eyes narrowing as you turned to face him. “I’m fine. I’ll figure it out.”

Eren didn’t back down, his expression earnest but measured, like he was navigating a minefield. “Come on,” he said, gesturing to the rain. “There’s no way you’re walking to the subway in this. And I bet Uber’s surging like crazy, right? No drivers nearby, either. You’re gonna be stuck here for hours.”

You bristled, your stubbornness flaring, even as his words hit too close to home. “I don’t care,” you said, your voice firm, though the lie tasted bitter. “I’ll pay the surge. It’s not your problem.”

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to your phone, where the Uber app still glowed with its outrageous price. “Two hundred dollars?” he said, his tone gentle but pointed. “You really wanna spend that when you don’t have to? Just let me drive you. It’s for you and the baby.”

Your heart twinged at the mention of your daughter, the $200 price tag a painful reminder of your tight budget. You could use that money for her. And the rain wasn’t letting up, the lightning flashing ominously through the windows, followed by a low rumble of thunder that made you flinch. You sighed, your shoulders slumping, the fight draining out of you. “Fine,” you said, your voice tight, avoiding his eyes. “But this doesn’t mean anything, Eren. It’s just a ride.”

His face lit up, a flicker of hope breaking through his guarded expression, and he nodded quickly. “I understand,” he said, his voice warm. “Wait here, okay? I’ll pull the car up as close as I can.”

Before you could protest, he darted out into the rain, his tall frame vanishing into the downpour, his boots splashing through puddles. You watched through the glass, your arms crossed, as he sprinted to his black G-Wagon, the sleek vehicle a stark contrast to the clinic’s modest lot. He started the engine, the headlights cutting through the storm, and maneuvered it right to the curb, as close to the entrance as possible. Then, to your surprise, he got out, rain soaking his shirt, and opened the passenger door, shrugging off his jacket to hold it over you like a makeshift umbrella.

Inside the clinic, a group of women in the waiting room—expectant mothers and a nurse at the desk—watched the scene, their faces softening, a few whispering to each other. “That’s so sweet,” one said, her voice audible through the glass. “Look at him, getting all wet for her.” Another sighed, clutching her purse. “Wish my husband would do that.”

You rolled your eyes, unmoved by their swooning, your walls firmly in place. Eren’s charm had fooled you once; you weren’t falling for it again. You stepped outside, letting him shield you with his jacket, the rain cold against your bare arms but his body heat a faint, unwelcome reminder of the past. You slid into the passenger seat, the leather warm and soft, and he closed the door, jogging around to the driver’s side, his shirt now clinging to his chest, his hair dripping.

He got in, shaking the rain from his hair like the dog he is, and turned on the heat, the vents blasting warm air into the chilled cabin. “You good?” he asked, glancing at you as he pulled out of the lot, the windshield wipers working overtime against the rain.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice clipped, your eyes fixed on the road. The rain was relentless, a gray curtain blurring the city, and a sudden flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a crack of thunder that made you jump in your seat, your hand flying to your belly.

Eren’s hand shot out instinctively, landing on your thigh, a gentle squeeze meant to comfort. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes flicking to you with concern.

You recoiled, pulling your leg away, your voice sharp. “Don’t touch me,” you said, glaring at him, your heart racing from the thunder and his touch.

He pulled his hand back, his expression crumpling, a wounded look that made him seem like a kicked puppy. “Sorry,” he muttered, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic swish of the wipers and the patter of rain against the roof.

Eren’s frustration was palpable, not at you but at himself, a storm raging within as fierce as the one outside. He’d fucked up so badly, letting his cowardice with Mikasa destroy what he’d had with you, his dream girl, now pregnant with his daughter. Your walls were sky-high, and he was at a loss, desperate to find a way through. 

He took a deep breath, his voice low, almost pleading. “What do I have to do?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the road, the city lights blurring through the rain. “To earn your trust back. I’m willing to do anything. I’ve been trying these last few months—paying for everything, showing up when you let me, doing every damn thing you ask. But it’s still not enough. You said you wanted actions, not words, and I feel like I’ve been giving you actions. So tell me, what’s it gonna take?”

You scoffed, his entitled tone grating, your anger flaring like a match struck in the dark. “Don’t act like you’re the victim here, Eren,” you said, your voice cold, your arms crossing over your bump. “You lied to me the entire time we were together. You manipulated me, promised me over and over that you’d leave Mikasa, that you loved me, that we had a future. But you proposed to her, Eren. You were gonna marry her. If I hadn’t caught you at that engagement party, would you have gone through with it? Kept me as your mistress on the side? Because I sure as hell believe you would’ve.”

His jaw clenched, his grip on the wheel tightening, the leather creaking under his hands. “I wouldn’t have gone through with it,” he said, his voice low, insistent. “I swear, I wouldn’t have married her. I only proposed because Mikasa was on my ass about getting engaged, nagging me for months, years. I felt backed into a corner, especially with our finances tied up, her family’s money in everything I built. I thought… I thought I could buy time, figure shit out without blowing up my life.”

You laughed, a bitter, cutting sound that made him flinch. “Bullshit,” you said, turning to face him, your eyes blazing. “That’s the weakest excuse I’ve ever heard. If you loved me as much as you claim, you would’ve broken it off with her, like you promised. Screw the joint finances, Eren. If you were a real man, you would’ve come up with a plan, taken the hit, done whatever it took to be with me. But you didn’t. You chose the easy way out, and now you’re surprised I don’t trust you? You’re delusional.”

The words hit like a blade, slicing through his ego, his carefully constructed defenses. His face paled, his eyes flickering with pain, but he didn’t argue, didn’t deflect. “You’re right,” he said, his voice quiet, raw. “I was a coward. I should’ve ended it with Mikasa the moment I knew I was in love with you. I should’ve taken the hit, lost the money, the businesses, whatever. But I didn’t, and I fucked up the best thing I ever had. I’m not surprised you don’t trust me. I’m just… I’m begging for a chance to make it right.”

You shook your head, your anger simmering, your heart a tangle of hurt and resolve. “You don’t get it, do you?” you said, your voice softer now, but no less firm. “It’s not just about what you did. It’s about who you were. You played me, Eren. You made me believe I was your world, while you were planning a life with her. You don’t just fix that with money or showing up to appointments. Trust isn’t a checklist you can mark off. It’s gone, and I don’t know if you’ll ever get it back.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening, the road blurring through the rain as he drove. “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m not giving up. I love you, and I love our daughter. I’ll keep showing up, keep doing whatever you need, even if you never let me back in. I just… I need you to know I’m trying.”

You turned away, your eyes fixed on the window, the city a smear of lights and water. “Trying isn’t enough,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not yet.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, the storm outside mirroring the one within. Eren navigated the flooded streets with care, his hands steady despite the turmoil in his heart. You clutched your purse, the ultrasound images a reminder of the life growing inside you, a life you’d protect at all costs. When he pulled up to your new apartment, the rain had softened to a drizzle, the thunder a distant rumble.

He parked, turning to you, his eyes searching yours. “Can I walk you to the door?” he asked, his voice hesitant, hopeful.

“No,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt, your tone firm but not cruel. “I’ve got it from here.”

He nodded, his face falling, but he didn’t push. “Text me the next appointment,” he said, his voice soft. “And any bills. I’ll take care of them.”

“I will,” you said, opening the door, the cool air rushing in. You stepped out, pausing to glance back at him, his wet shirt clinging to his frame, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of love and regret. “Drive safe,” you added, almost an afterthought, before closing the door and heading to your building.

As you unlocked your apartment, the nursery’s soft glow greeting you, you felt the weight of the day settle in—your daughter, Eren’s persistence, the walls you’d built to protect your heart. You placed the ultrasound images on the kitchen counter, your hand resting on your bump, a silent promise to your girl. “It’s you and me,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips. “And we’re gonna be okay.”

…

The weeks following the clinic visit blurred into a rhythm of routine and resilience, your life a delicate balance of work, pregnancy, and the ever-present shadow of Eren. Now at nearly seven and a half months pregnant, your belly was a swell, a constant reminder of your daughter, the beacon pulling you through the fog of heartbreak and uncertainty.

Eren, however, was relentless, his efforts to win your trust a siege you hadn’t anticipated. You’d regretted letting him drive you home from the clinic that rainy day, a decision born of necessity that had backfired spectacularly. He now knew your new address, and he wielded it like a weapon, his gestures growing bolder, more intrusive, each one chipping at the walls you’d built around your heart. You’d tried to keep him at arm’s length, communicating only about the baby but he was undeterred, his persistence a mix of desperation and determination that both infuriated and unnerved you.

The first shock came on the first of the month, when you logged into your rental portal to pay your rent, only for the payment to bounce back instantly. Frowning, you tried again, your heart sinking as the same error flashed on the screen: Payment Declined – Account Settled. Confused, you called the rental office, your fingers tapping nervously on the kitchen counter.

“Good morning, Paradis Properties,” a cheerful voice answered. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, this is (Y/N), apartment 3B,” you said, your voice tense. “I’m trying to pay my rent, but the system keeps saying my account’s settled. There must be a mistake.”

The woman on the line typed, the clack of her keyboard audible. “Let me check… Oh, yes, I see. Your rent has been paid in full for the next six months, as of yesterday. A wire transfer from a Mr. Eren Jaeger.”

Your blood ran cold, your grip on the phone tightening. “What?” you said, your voice sharp. “I didn’t authorize that. Can you reverse it?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, her tone apologetic. “The payment’s already processed, and it’s non-refundable per our policy. You won’t owe anything until next July.”

You hung up, your heart pounding, anger surging like a wildfire. Eren. Of course it was Eren, with his deep pockets and infuriating audacity. You dialed his number, your fingers shaking, your voice already rising before he even answered.

He picked up on the second ring, his voice warm, hopeful. “Hey—”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Eren,” you snapped, pacing your living room, the hardwood cool beneath your bare feet. “What the hell is wrong with you? Paying my rent for six months? Who gave you the right?”

“I just wanted to help,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with caution. “You’re pregnant, working, stressing about bills. I thought—”

“You thought you could buy me?” you cut in, your voice venomous. “Like I’m some piece of property you can own? I told you I don’t want your money controlling my life, Eren. I’m not your mistress anymore. I’m not your anything.”

He was silent for a moment, absorbing your words, and when he spoke, his voice was low, earnest. “I’m not trying to own you,” he said. “I swear. I know I fucked up, and I know you don’t trust me, but I’m trying to make things easier for you, for our daughter. You’re carrying her, working a job I know you hate, and I have the means to help. I can’t get the payment back, but at least now you don’t have to worry about rent for a while. You can focus on the baby, on yourself.”

You laughed, a bitter sound that echoed in the quiet apartment. “You don’t get it, do you?” you said, your voice trembling with rage. “This isn’t about the money. It’s about you thinking you can make decisions for me, like you did before, like when you lied about Mikasa, about us. You don’t get to play hero now, Eren. You don’t get to fix this with your wallet.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking, and you could hear the weight of his guilt. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I love you, and I want to take care of you both. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“Stop trying to control me,” you said, your voice cold. “Pay for the baby stuff, fine. But don’t touch my life, my home, my independence.”

You hung up, your chest heaving, tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You sank onto the couch, your hand resting on your bump, a silent apology to your daughter for the chaos her father brought. But Eren’s gesture, as infuriating as it was, had eased a burden you hadn’t admitted aloud. Six months of rent paid meant breathing room, a cushion for the unexpected, and though you hated him for it, a small part of you was relieved.

But his siege didn’t stop there.

Every Monday, like clockwork, a fresh bouquet of flowers arrived at your door, their vibrant petals a burst of color in your modest apartment. Roses, orchids, lilies—expensive, hand-arranged, delivered by a local florist with a smile. Each came with a note in Eren’s handwriting, the scrawl achingly familiar: “Thinking of you and our baby girl. I love you. – E.” Your neighbor, a bubbly twenty-something named Hitch who lived across the hall, caught you signing for a delivery one morning, her eyes wide with awe.

“Wow, again?” she said, leaning against her doorframe, a bagel in hand. “Your baby daddy is something else. These flowers must cost a fortune. Most guys don’t even send a text, let alone this. He’s, like, rom-com level.”

You forced a smile, the bouquet of white orchids heavy in your arms. “Yeah, he’s… persistent,” you said, your tone dry, avoiding her gaze.

“Persistent? Girl, this is romantic as hell,” Hitch said, grinning. “You’re lucky. My ex wouldn’t even pay for half a pizza. Hold onto that one.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you unlocked your door. “Trust me, it’s not what it looks like,” you said, stepping inside. “Thanks, though.”

You kept the flowers, unable to deny their beauty, their soft fragrance brightening your living room, the nursery, even your tiny kitchen. They were a small luxury in a life stretched thin, but the notes went straight to the trash, their words too painful, too reminiscent of promises broken. You weren’t falling for Eren’s charm, not again, even if Hitch’s swooning made you second-guess yourself for a fleeting moment.

But it was the morning of a crisp February day, a few weeks later, that Eren’s audacity reached a new peak. You were sipping decaf coffee, scrolling through a Pinterest board for Galentine’s Day ideas, when a knock at the door startled you. You set your mug down, smoothing your oversized sweater over your bump, and opened the door to find a man in a crisp suit, holding a clipboard, his smile professional but excited.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, glancing at his clipboard. “I’m with Paradis Auto Sales. I’m here to deliver your new Mercedes-Benz GLC, courtesy of Mr. Eren Jaeger.”

Your jaw dropped, your hand gripping the doorframe. “I’m sorry, what?” you said, your voice rising, disbelief coursing through you. “A car?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, gesturing to the street, where a sleek, white Mercedes gleamed under the morning sun, a red bow tied across its hood like a gift straight out of a commercial. “It’s all paid for, registered in your name. There’s a note on the windshield.”

You stepped outside, barefoot on the cool concrete, your heart pounding as you approached the car. It was stunning, its curves elegant, its interior visible through the tinted windows—leather seats, a touchscreen dashboard, every feature a new parent could dream of. On the windshield, tucked under a wiper, was an envelope with your name in Eren’s handwriting. You tore it open, your hands shaking, and read: “You need a safe way to get around, especially when our girl arrives. You can’t rely on Ubers or the subway forever—it’s not safe for you or her. I know you’re still angry, but I’m not letting the mother of my child or my daughter ride in danger. I love you both. – Eren.”

You crumpled the note, your irritation flaring, but beneath it, a small, traitorous part of you stirred—a part that couldn’t deny Eren’s persistence was wearing you down, brick by brick. The car was practical, a necessity you hadn’t dared dream of, and the thought of driving your daughter to doctor’s appointments, to daycare, in this instead of a crowded subway was… tempting. But it terrified you, too, the thrill of his care mingling with the fear of letting him too close, of risking your heart again.

You turned to the salesman, your voice tight. “I didn’t ask for this,” you said, crossing your arms. “Can I send it back?”

He shook his head, his smile sympathetic. “I’m afraid it’s non-returnable, ma’am. It’s fully paid, titled to you. You’d have to sell it yourself if you don’t want it.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples, the weight of Eren’s gesture overwhelming. “Fine,” you said, your voice resigned. “Leave the keys.”

He handed you a sleek key fob, tipped his hat, and left, his van pulling away as you stood there, staring at the Mercedes, your emotions a tangled knot. You needed to vent, to process, so you grabbed your phone and FaceTimed Ellie and Morgan.

The call connected, Ellie’s face appearing first, her ponytail swinging as she squinted at the screen. “Yo, what’s up?” she said, her voice muffled by a bite of cereal. “You look pissed.”

Morgan’s face popped up next, her curls bouncing. “Yeah, babe, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “You okay? Baby girl okay?”

“We’re both fine,” you said, your voice sharp, holding up the key fob. “But Eren’s lost his damn mind. Look at this.” You flipped the camera, stepping outside to show the Mercedes, its bow still gleaming in the sun.

“Holy shit!” Ellie choked, spitting cereal, her eyes wide. “Is that a fucking Mercedes? He bought you a car?”

Morgan gasped, leaning closer to her screen. “Oh my God, that’s gorgeous,” she said, her voice awed. “He just… gave you a car? Like, no strings?”

“There are always strings with Eren,” you said, flipping the camera back, your voice dripping with frustration. “He left a note saying I need it for the baby, that the subway’s too dangerous. Like he gets to decide how I live my life. First my rent, then flowers every week, now this? He’s trying to buy me back, and I’m not having it.”

Ellie snorted, wiping her mouth. “Man’s got balls, I’ll give him that,” she said, her tone half-amused, half-angry. “Paying your rent was wild, but a car? That’s next-level. You keeping it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I can’t send it back, apparently. It’s in my name. But keeping it feels like… letting him win, you know? Like I’m admitting I need him.”

Morgan’s expression softened, her voice gentle. “Babe, you don’t need him,” she said. “But you do need a car, especially with the baby coming. The subway’s a nightmare, and Ubers add up. Maybe think of it as him doing his job as a dad, not as him owning you. You’re in control here.”

“Exactly,” Ellie chimed in, pointing her spoon at the screen. “Take his shit, use it for you and the kid, but don’t give him an inch. He wants to play sugar daddy? Fine. Let him pay, but keep those walls up. He doesn’t get a free pass just ‘cause he’s throwing money around.”

You sighed, rubbing your bump, the baby kicking softly as if in agreement. “I know you’re right,” you said, your voice quieter. “But it’s scary. He’s doing all this and I feel like he’s getting to me. Like, deep down, I’m starting to soften, and I hate it. I can’t trust him again, not after everything.”

Morgan nodded, her eyes warm with understanding. “That’s valid,” she said. “He hurt you bad, and you’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. But you’re not softening because you’re weak—you’re human. He’s the father of your child, and he’s trying, even if it’s messy. Just keep setting boundaries. If he steps over, shut it down like you did today.”

“Speaking of,” Ellie said, grinning, “how’d he take it when you told him off? Bet he looked like a sad puppy again.”

You laughed, a real laugh that eased the tension in your chest. “He just took it,” you said, shaking your head. “Didn’t argue, didn’t defend himself. Just said he can’t take the rent back and I should focus on the pregnancy. It’s infuriating how calm he is.”

“He’s playing the long game.” Morgan said, smiling. “ But you’re smarter than him, babe. You’ve got this.”

You nodded, the key fob glinting in your hand, a symbol of Eren’s persistence and your resolve. “Thanks, guys,” you said, your voice soft. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Crash and burn, obviously,” Ellie teased. “Now go test-drive that car. Tell us how it feels to roll up in a Mercedes.”

You ended the call, their laughter lingering, and stood, staring at the key fob, then at the car. Eren’s gestures were tearing down your walls, brick by brick, and the thrill of it was as terrifying as it was undeniable. You wouldn’t let him in, not yet, maybe not ever, but for now, you’d use what he gave you—for your daughter, for the life you were building. You grabbed your purse, slipped on your shoes, and headed outside, the Mercedes waiting like a challenge you were ready to meet.

…

A few weeks later…

The nightclub pulsed with a frenetic energy, its cavernous interior awash in neon blues and purples, the bass of the music thudding like a heartbeat through the polished concrete floors. Strobe lights sliced through the haze, illuminating writhing bodies on the dance floor, their silhouettes a blur of sequins, leather, and sweat. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, sweet cocktails, and the faint tang of vape clouds. 

Floch’s birthday bash had commandeered the entire club, a rented-out extravaganza of excess that drew a crowd of strangers, business associates, and the usual hangers-on who flocked to Eren’s orbit. The VIP booth, perched on a raised platform overlooking the chaos, was a microcosm of privilege—leather seats, bottles of Cristal chilling in ice buckets, and a parade of women vying for attention.

Eren sat at the center of the booth, his long legs sprawled, a glass of bourbon dangling from his hand, the ice melting into amber swirls. His black silk shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the edge of a tattoo curling across his chest, his hair loose and framing his face in dark waves. His eyes were distant, fixed on the rim of his glass, his mind a thousand miles away—on you, your growing bump, the daughter he’d yet to meet. The club, the women, the noise—it was all a hollow distraction, a stage he no longer wanted to play on.

Levi sat across from him, his sharp gray eyes scanning the scene with thinly veiled disgust, his tailored blazer pristine amidst the debauchery. He sipped a whiskey neat, his posture rigid, clearly counting the minutes until he could escape. Jean and Connie were in their element, each with a girl perched on their lap, their laughter loud and slurred as they traded stories and shots. Jean’s hand rested possessively on his companion’s thigh, his ash-blond hair mussed, while Connie’s grin was wide, his arm slung around a giggling brunette, his jokes landing with varying success.

Armin, ever the outlier, sat quietly, his blond hair catching the neon light, his blue eyes wary as he nursed a single beer. He was devoted to Annie, his girlfriend, a fierce blonde who’d sooner gut him than tolerate a whiff of infidelity. The thought of her wrath kept him grounded, his polite smiles deflecting the advances of the women circling the booth. He glanced at Eren, noting the sullen slump of his shoulders, the way his gaze never lingered on the chaos around him. Armin sighed, recognizing the familiar weight of Eren’s obsession—you, always you.

Eren took a swig of bourbon, the burn doing little to dull the ache in his chest. It had been months since he’d shattered your trust, months of trying to rebuild what he’d broken with gifts, money, and desperate apologies. But you were a fortress, your walls impenetrable. The thought of you, pregnant with his daughter, building a life without him, was a knife twisting in his gut, and tonight, surrounded by strangers and shallow pleasures, the pain was unbearable.

Floch, the birthday boy, strutted into the booth, a bottle of Dom Perignon in hand, his red hair slicked back, his grin smug. He was in his element, the king of this rented kingdom, his suit slightly wrinkled from dancing and drinking. He plopped down beside Eren, clapping a hand on his shoulder, oblivious to the storm brewing in his friend’s eyes. 

“Yo, Jaeger, why the long face?” he said, his voice loud over the music. “It’s my birthday, man! Stop pining over your baby mama who don’t even want you anymore. Look around!” He gestured to the women, their eyes glittering with interest. “There’s hoes all around you tonight, my guy, and you’re tripping over one woman?”

Levi’s head snapped up, his expression icy. “You’re disgusting,” he said, his voice low and cutting, his whiskey glass pausing mid-sip.

Eren’s grip on his glass tightened, his jaw clenching, the bourbon sloshing dangerously. “Shut the fuck up, Floch,” he growled, his voice low, a warning that went unheeded.

Floch laughed, unbothered, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Chill, I’m just saying,” he said, waving a hand. He leaned closer, nodding to one of the women, a tall blonde in a skintight red dress. “Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you show my boy Eren a good time? He needs to loosen up.”

The blonde sauntered over, her hips swaying, her smile practiced as she tried to slide onto Eren’s lap, her hands brushing his chest. “Hey, handsome,” she purred, her voice syrupy. “Let me take care of you.”

Eren reacted like she’d burned him, shoving her away with a force that sent her stumbling, her heels catching on the floor. She fell with a yelp, her dress riding up, drawing gasps and stares from the booth and nearby tables. The music didn’t stop, but the VIP area went quiet, eyes turning to the commotion. Armin was on his feet in an instant, helping the girl up, his face apologetic. “You okay?” he asked, steadying her as she glared at Eren.

“Eren, chill out,” Armin said, his voice firm but calm, turning to his friend. “You didn’t need to do that.”

Eren stood, his chest heaving, the bourbon glass slamming onto the table, spilling amber liquid. “I don’t want her,” he said, his voice raw, slurred from the alcohol and emotion. “I don’t want any of these women. I want my woman. I want her.” His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild, glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t wanna be here, in this fucking club, surrounded by strangers. I wanna be with her, cuddling in bed, rubbing her feet, picking out names for our daughter. That’s what I want, and I fucked it all up.”

The booth went silent, the women exchanging awkward glances, Jean and Connie frozen, their girls shifting uncomfortably. Floch raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading, replaced by a mix of amusement and disdain. “Jesus, Eren,” he said, leaning back. “You’re such a fucking simp. All this over her? She ain’t even all that, man. You’re acting like she’s some goddess, and she’s got you crying in a club? Pathetic.”

The word was a match to Eren’s fuse, his vision narrowing, rage surging through the haze of bourbon and grief. Before anyone could react, he swung, his fist connecting with Floch’s nose with a sickening crunch. Floch staggered back, blood spurting, his champagne bottle crashing to the floor, shattering in a spray of glass and foam. The girls screamed, scrambling away, their heels clicking as they fled the booth. Floch lunged, tackling Eren, and the two crashed into the table, bottles toppling, ice scattering.

“What the fuck, guys!?” Jean shouted, grabbing Floch’s shoulders, pulling him back as Connie wrestled Eren’s arms, his strength barely containing the taller man’s fury.

“Enough!” Levi barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. He shoved between them, as he yanked Eren upright, his grip iron. Armin helped Jean restrain Floch, whose nose was a bloody mess, his suit stained with champagne and rage.

“You fucking asshole!” Floch spat, struggling against Jean’s hold, blood dripping onto his shirt. “It’s my fucking birthday!”

Eren lunged again, his eyes blazing, but Levi held him back, his fingers digging into Eren’s arm. “You’re done,” Levi said, his voice low, dangerous. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Armin nodded, his face grim, helping Levi drag Eren toward the exit, the crowd parting like a sea, their phones already out, capturing the spectacle. Connie stayed with Jean, calming Floch, who was still cursing, his ego bruised as much as his face. The music pounded on, oblivious to the drama, the neon lights casting eerie shadows across Eren’s face as they stumbled into the cool night air.

Outside, the city was alive, its streets slick from earlier rain, the skyline glittering against the dark. Levi’s sleek Audi was parked nearby, and he shoved Eren into the passenger seat, slamming the door with a force that echoed. Armin slid into the back, his expression a mix of worry and exasperation, while Levi rounded to the driver’s side, his jaw tight, his patience shredded.

Eren was a mess, his shirt torn, his hair wild, his face streaked with tears he hadn’t bothered to hide. He slumped against the seat, his head in his hands, sobbing now, the alcohol and heartbreak tearing through his defenses. “I love her,” he choked, his voice raw, broken. “I love her so fucking much, and she hates me. I’ve tried everything—money, flowers, a fucking car—and it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

Levi started the engine, his hands gripping the wheel, his voice a low growl. “You’re a fucking disaster, Jaeger,” he said, pulling into traffic, the city lights blurring past. “Crying in a club, starting fights, acting like a goddamn teenager. Sober the fuck up and man up. If you want her back so bad, stop this pathetic shit and do something real.”

Eren looked up, his eyes red, his breath hitching. “I’m trying,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m paying for everything, showing up when she lets me. What else can I do?”

Levi glanced at him, his expression hard but not unkind. “Stop throwing money at her,” he said, his voice sharp. “She’s not a problem you can buy your way out of. You hurt her, bad. You lied, you manipulated, you broke her trust. Flowers and a car? That’s surface shit. If you want her to even look at you again, you gotta go deeper. Be vulnerable, really vulnerable. Tell her the truth, all of it—why you fucked up, what you’re feeling, what you’re willing to do to make it right. And don’t expect her to forgive you. You do it because you love her, not because you want a reward.”

Armin leaned forward, his voice softer, his blue eyes earnest. “He’s right, Eren,” he said. “She’s protecting herself, and her daughter. You can’t blame her for that. But if you keep showing up, not just with gifts but with honesty, maybe she’ll see you’re serious. It’s gonna take time, but if you love her like you say, it’s worth it.”

Eren wiped his face with his sleeve, his sobs quieting, the weight of their words sinking in. “I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, his voice small, raw. “I’ve never… I’ve never been good at this. I’m scared I’ll fuck it up more.”

“Then learn,” Levi said, his voice blunt, pulling into the parking garage of Eren’s penthouse. “You’re gonna be a father. You don’t get to hide behind ‘I don’t know how.’ Figure it out.”

They parked, and Levi dragged Eren out, his grip firm but not cruel, Armin following close behind. The penthouse was a stark contrast to the club—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, a view of Paradis’s glittering skyline. But it felt empty, a mausoleum of Eren’s past life, the one he’d built with Mikasa’s money and lost with his betrayal. Levi shoved him onto the couch, tossing a bottle of water at him, his expression exasperated.

“Drink this,” Levi said, crossing his arms. “And get some sleep. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

Eren nodded, his hands shaking as he opened the bottle, his eyes distant, haunted. “I just want her back,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I want my family.”

Armin sat beside him, his hand resting on Eren’s shoulder, his voice gentle. “Then fight for them,” he said. “Not with fists, not with money, but with your heart. Show her who you are, Eren, not who you were.”

Levi sighed, heading for the door, his patience spent. “I’m out,” he said, glancing back. “Don’t call me unless you’re sober and thinking straight.”

As the door clicked shut, Eren leaned back, the water bottle cold against his palm, his tears drying into a resolve he hadn’t felt before. He’d been fighting the wrong way, with gifts and gestures, when what you needed was his truth, his vulnerability. 

He stood abruptly, swaying slightly, his voice rough but resolute. “Armin, grab my keys,” he said, his eyes locking onto his friend. “You’re driving me to her apartment. Now.”

Armin’s blue eyes widened. “Uh, Eren, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice cautious, his brow furrowing. “You’re drunk. And it’s late. She’s probably asleep, and you showing up like this… it’s not gonna go well.”

Eren shook his head, stumbling toward the kitchen counter where his car keys glinted under the pendant lights. “I don’t care,” he said, his voice rising, raw with urgency. “I’m done waiting, done fucking around with flowers. I’m going to her, and I’m getting my family back. If you won’t drive, I’ll do it myself.”

He snatched the keys, his movements unsteady, and Armin was on his feet in an instant, his hand closing over Eren’s wrist. “No way,” he said, his voice firm, his grip surprisingly strong for his slight frame. “You’re not driving like this. You’ll kill yourself, or someone else. Fine, I’ll drive, but you better have a plan, Eren. What are you even gonna do?”

Eren’s eyes met Armin’s, and there was a fire in them, a wild, unyielding determination that made Armin’s stomach twist. “I’m gonna tell her everything,” Eren said, his voice low, fervent. “The truth, all of it. Why I fucked up, how I feel, what I want. I’m gonna beg for her, Armin. For her and our daughter. I don’t care if she slams the door in my face. She needs to know I’m not giving up.”

Armin sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of worry and resignation. “You’re insane,” he muttered, but he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “How do I get roped into this shit?” He led Eren out of the penthouse, the elevator ride silent, the hum of the city a distant pulse as they descended to the garage.

In the G-Wagon, Armin took the wheel, the leather seats cool against his jeans, while Eren slumped in the passenger seat, his head against the window, his breath fogging the glass. The city streaked by, its neon signs and wet streets a blur, the aftermath of the earlier rain leaving a sheen on the asphalt. Armin glanced at Eren, his voice tentative. “So, what’s the plan, exactly?” he asked, merging onto the highway. “You’re just gonna… what, bang on her door and yell about love?”

Eren’s jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the road, the city lights reflecting in his pupils. “I’m gonna be real,” he said, his voice raw. “No more games, no more hiding. I��m gonna tell her I love her, that I’ve loved her since the start, that I was a coward who fucked it all up. I’m gonna beg for a chance to be the man she needs.”

Armin’s grip on the wheel tightened, his heart sinking. “Eren, you’re drunk,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “She’s gonna see that, and it’s gonna make things worse. Maybe wait till morning, when you’re sober, when you can think straight.”

“No,” Eren snapped, his voice fierce, his hand slamming the dashboard. “I’ve waited too long already. I’ve been a fucking coward for months. I’m done. She needs to hear it now, even if she hates me for it.”

Armin sighed, shaking his head, muttering under his breath, “I’m so screwed if Annie finds out I’m enabling this.” But he drove on, the GPS guiding them to your apartment.

…

Meanwhile, in your apartment, the world was soft and quiet, a cocoon of calm. You’d just finished watching a rom-com on Netflix, the credits rolling as you stretched on the couch, your oversized sweater riding up to reveal your bump. You yawned, your bare feet padding across the hardwood as you headed to the bathroom, ready to start your skincare routine before bed.

The bathroom was small but cozy, its counter cluttered with serums, moisturizers, and a jar of prenatal vitamins. You tied your hair back, splashing water on your face, the coolness grounding you as you reached for your cleanser. The Mercedes key fob sat on the kitchen counter, a gleaming reminder of Eren’s audacity, and you shook your head, muttering, “Ridiculous man.” 

But a sudden pounding on your front door jolted you, your heart leaping, the cleanser bottle slipping from your hand and clattering into the sink. You froze, your pulse racing, as the pounding continued, accompanied by a voice—Eren’s voice, slurred and raw, echoing through the hall. “Baby!” he shouted, the words thick with emotion. “It’s you and me forever! I’m never giving up on us!”

Your eyes widened, your hand flying to your chest, shock rooting you to the spot. Another voice—Armin’s, quieter but urgent—cut through. “Eren, shh, you’re gonna wake the neighbors!” he hissed, his tone frantic. 

“I don’t give a fuck!” Eren yelled, his voice breaking, raw with desperation. “I love her, Armin! I love her and our baby girl more than anything!”

You crept to the living room, your bare feet silent on the hardwood, your heart pounding as Eren’s words poured through the door, each one a hammer against your carefully built walls. “I was a coward,” he said, his voice cracking, thick with tears. “Our relationship… it started with lust, I know that, but it turned into something I didn’t even know was possible. You’re the only one I can be myself with. The only one who makes me feel alive. When I’m with you, when I’m lying next to you, I can feel my heartbeat matching yours, and it’s the only time I’m not fucking lost.”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, tears prickling your eyes, his words hitting too close, too raw. You wanted to stay angry, to keep your guard up, but his voice, drunk and broken, was unraveling you.

“I wish I could go back,” he continued, his voice softer now, choked with sobs. “I fell in love with you weeks after we met, and I tried to deny it, but it was no use. You’ve got my heart, and you always will. Even if you don’t want me, even if you move on… I’m not moving on from you. I never could.”

Your neighbor, Hitch, cracked her door open across the hall, her hair tousled and eyes wide as she peeked out. She saw Eren on his knees, his hands braced against your door, his shirt torn, his face a mess of tears and desperation. Armin stood beside him, his hands raised in a futile attempt to calm him, his face flushed with embarrassment. Hitch’s jaw dropped, her eyes flicking to Eren’s chiseled jaw, his tall frame, and she mouthed, “Damn,” clearly recognizing him as the infamous baby daddy who’d been sending your flowers every Monday, and most recently, the Mercedes. This was better than any Netflix show.

Armin caught her gaze and groaned, his voice apologetic. “I’m so sorry,” he said, gesturing to Eren. “He’s… not himself. We’ll be gone soon, I promise.”

Hitch waved a hand, grinning. “No worries,” she said, leaning against her doorframe. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in this building all year. Carry on.”

Eren ignored them, his voice rising again, raw and pleading. “The gifts, the money… I wasn’t trying to buy you,” he said, his forehead pressing against the door. “It’s all I knew how to do, how to show I care. But I get it now—you need more than that. You need me, the real me, and I’m begging you, please, give me one more chance. I’ve changed, I swear. I’ll be the man you need, for you, for our daughter.”

You stood frozen, your hand on the doorknob, tears streaming down your cheeks. His words were a tidal wave, crashing against your resolve, and as much as you wanted to hold firm, to protect your heart, you felt it cracking, his raw vulnerability seeping through. You were flabbergasted, his drunken confession a spectacle you hadn’t expected, but it was real, unfiltered, and it terrified you how much it moved you.

Hitch’s door creaked wider, her eyes gleaming with curiosity, and Armin shot her another apologetic look, his voice low. “Eren, you’re disturbing the peace, man,” he said, tugging at his friend’s arm. “Let’s go, before someone calls the police.”

“Fuck the police!” Eren shouted, shrugging him off, his voice raw. “I’m not leaving till she hears me!”

You sighed, wiping your tears, knowing he wouldn’t stop, not in this state. Your neighbors didn’t deserve this, and neither did you, but you couldn’t let him keep screaming in the hall. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and opened the door, the hinges creaking softly.

Eren was mid-sentence, his voice faltering as the door swung open, his eyes widening, red-rimmed and glistening, as he saw you. He was a mess—his shirt torn, his hair wild, his face streaked with tears, his knees pressed into the hallway carpet. Armin froze, his hands raised, his face a mix of relief and dread. Hitch gasped, her door still ajar, her eyes darting between you and Eren like she was watching a soap opera.

“Baby,” Eren breathed, his voice breaking, and without thinking, he surged forward, his arms wrapping around your waist, his face burying against your belly, his sobs muffled against your sweater. The sudden contact stole your breath, his warmth seeping through the fabric, his tears soaking into your skin. It was the first time he’d touched you in months, the first time you’d felt his desperation so viscerally, and your hands hovered, unsure whether to push him away or hold him.

“Eren,” you said, your voice trembling, your hands settling on his shoulders, a mix of shock and instinct. “Get up. You’re drunk.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked, his arms tightening, his face still pressed against your bump, as if he could reach your daughter through sheer will. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you. I love her. I’ll do anything, anything to make it right.”

Armin stepped forward, his voice gentle. “Eren, come on,” he said, touching his friend’s shoulder. “Let her go, man. You’re scaring her.”

You shook your head, your eyes meeting Armin’s, a silent signal that you could handle this. “It’s okay,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “Just… give us a minute.”

Armin hesitated, his brow furrowing, but he nodded, stepping back. “I’ll be right here,” he said, glancing at Hitch, who was still watching, her jaw practically on the floor. “Sorry again,” he muttered to her, his face flushed.

Hitch shrugged, grinning. “No complaints here,” she said, winking at you before retreating into her apartment, her door clicking shut.

You looked down at Eren, his arms still around you, his sobs quieter now, his breath warm against your belly. Your heart ached, his words echoing in your mind—his confession, his vulnerability, his promise to change. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let him in, but the scars he’d left were deep, and trust was a fragile thing.

He looked up, his eyes red, his face a mess of hope and despair, and slowly, he rose, his hands lingering on your waist before falling to his sides. “I mean it,” he said, his voice raw, slurred but earnest. “Every word. I love you. I’ll spend my life proving it.”

You sighed, stepping back, your arms crossing over your bump, a shield against his intensity. “You’re drunk,” you said, your voice firm. “And you’re a mess. I heard you, Eren, every word, and… it means something. But I can’t do this right now. You need to sober up, and we need to talk when you’re not falling apart.”

His voice, slurred but fervent, echoed in the hallway, his words a torrent of confession and desperation. “I love you” he choked again, his hands trembling as they rested on your hips, his thumbs brushing the edge of your sweater. “I love you and our baby girl more than anything. I was a fucking coward, I know that. I lied, I hurt you, and I’ll hate myself for it forever. But I’m begging you, please, give me a chance to make it right..”

You sighed, your arms crossed over your chest, a shield against the storm of emotions his words unleashed. Deep down, beneath the anger, the betrayal, the walls you’d built, you still wanted him—had always wanted him. What woman wouldn’t yearn for the father of her child, the man who’d once made her feel like the center of the universe?

 Eren had been your everything, his touch a spark that set your soul alight, his laughter a melody that drowned out the world. Before the lies, before the engagement party that shattered your heart, you’d been so happy, a happiness no other man had ever come close to giving you. You doubted another ever would. But the scars he’d left were deep, raw, and the fear of handing him your heart again, only for him to break it, was a weight you couldn’t shake. Your daughter tethered you to him for life, a bond unbreakable, but could you risk loving him again, knowing the pain he was capable of inflicting?

Armin stood a few steps away, his blond hair mussed, his blue eyes wide with worry, his hands raised in a futile attempt to manage the chaos. “Eren, maybe we should—” he started, his voice gentle, but you cut him off with a glance, your expression softening.

“It’s okay, Armin,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “I’ve got this. You can go.”

Armin hesitated, his gaze flicking between you and Eren, his concern palpable. “You sure?” he asked, his voice low, his hands dropping to his sides.

You nodded, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah,” you said, your eyes returning to Eren, who hadn’t moved, his gaze locked on yours, raw and pleading. 

Armin sighed, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “Alright,” he said, stepping back. “I’ll be in the car. Eren, don’t… don’t make this worse.” He shot his friend a warning look, then turned, his sneakers squeaking on the hallway floor as he headed for the stairs, leaving you alone with the man who’d broken your heart and was now begging to mend it.

The hallway was quiet now, save for Eren’s uneven breaths, the distant hum of the city filtering through the building’s walls. You looked down at him, his knees still pressed into the carpet, his hands hovering near your hips, as if afraid to touch you again. His eyes searched yours, and in their depths, you saw the question you were wrestling with yourself—could you give him another chance? Would he hurt you again? The vulnerability in his gaze, the raw, unfiltered love, was undeniable, and it shook you to your core. No grown man would bare himself like this, drunk and sobbing, unless he was truly, desperately in love.

“Eren,” you said, your voice trembling, your hands unclenching, falling to your sides. “Get up. You can’t stay like this.”

He rose slowly, his movements unsteady, his frame towering over you, but his presence was anything but imposing. He was a shadow of the confident man you’d known, his shoulders slumped, his face a canvas of grief and hope. “I mean it,” he said, his voice raw, slurred but earnest. “Every word. I love you. I’ve never stopped.”

You sighed, stepping back, your arms crossing again, your heart a battlefield. “ I heard you, Eren, and… it means something. But I can’t just forget what you did. You lied to me, you promised me a future while you were planning one with her. I can’t trust you, not yet.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening, tears still streaming down his face, carving paths through the grime and sweat from his night at the club. “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know I fucked up, and I don’t deserve you. But I’m here, begging you to see me, the real me. Not the coward who lied, not the guy who hurt you, but the man who loves you more than life.”

Your breath hitched, his words a knife twisting in your heart, and you felt your own tears welling, threatening to spill. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let go of the pain, but the fear was a living thing, clawing at your resolve. “I loved you, Eren,” you said, your voice trembling, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I loved you so much, and you broke me. I can’t go through that again. I have our daughter to think about now. I can’t risk her heart, or mine.”

He stepped closer, his hands twitching at his sides, his eyes pleading. “I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice soft, raw. “But I see it in your eyes. You still love me, I know you do. You’re just afraid I’ll hurt you again, and I don’t blame you. But I swear, on my life, on everything, I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll spend every day proving it.”

Slowly, tentatively, he reached downwards, his hands hovering near your face, his eyes searching yours for permission. You flinched, your instinct to pull away warring with the ache to feel him, to let him close the distance. His eyes softened, a silent plea, and he whispered, “Please.”

Your breath caught, your tears falling freely now, and you didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Eren’s hands found the back of your neck, his fingers gentle, trembling, as he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his tears mingling with yours. He kissed you, soft and slow, a feather-light touch that carried the weight of his love, his regret, his promise. The feeling was nostalgic, a spark reigniting memories of stolen nights in your dressing room, lazy mornings in Paris, whispered confessions in the Maldives. You’d missed him, missed this, and despite your fear, you couldn’t help but kiss him back, your lips moving against his, a quiet surrender to the pull of your heart.

Eren’s kiss was gentle, reverent, as if he was pouring every ounce of his love into it, afraid you’d vanish if he pushed too hard. His hands cradled your neck, his thumbs brushing your jaw, his tears warm against your skin. You felt the world narrow to this moment, the hallway, the city, the past fading into the background, leaving only you and him, your shared breath, your tangled hearts.

He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes locked on yours, their emerald depths raw with love, with hope. You stared into each other’s eyes, and in his, you saw it—true love, unfiltered, undeniable. Your own eyes mirrored it, the love you’d tried to bury, the love that had never left, no matter how hard you’d fought. 

The memories of your time together flooded back—his laughter in the lounge, his hands on your waist as you danced in Tokyo, his voice singing off-key in the shower, the way he’d looked at you like you were his world. You’d been so happy, so whole, and the truth was, he was all you’d ever wanted. There was no one else for you.

“I’m not perfect,” Eren whispered, his voice thick, his forehead still pressed to yours, his hands trembling against your neck. “I know I fucked up, big time. I was a coward, a liar, and I hurt the only person who’s ever mattered to me. But I promise you, on my life, on our daughter, I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll be the man you need, the man you deserve. Just… please, give me one more chance.”

You closed your eyes, your tears falling, your heart a tangle of fear and hope, love and pain. His words were a lifeline, his touch a reminder of what you’d lost, what you could have again if you were brave enough to try. You wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he’d changed, that he could be the father your daughter needed, the partner you’d dreamed of. The memories of your happiness were a siren song, pulling you toward him, but the scars of his betrayal were a warning, urging you to protect yourself.

“I’m scared, Eren,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes opening to meet his. “I love you, I do, but I’m so scared. You broke me once, and I can’t… I can’t survive that again. Not with her.” Your hand rested on your bump, a silent vow to your daughter.

He nodded, his eyes glistening, his hands sliding down to your shoulders, gentle but firm. “I know,” he said, his voice raw. “I know you’re scared, and I hate that I’m the reason. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll prove it to you, every day, every moment. I’ll earn your trust back, even if it takes years. I love you, and I love our girl, and I’ll never stop fighting for you.”

You swallowed, your throat tight, your heart pounding. “What if you hurt me again?” you asked, your voice small, vulnerable, the question a ghost that haunted you.

“I won’t,” he said, his voice fierce, his eyes burning with conviction. “I swear, I won’t. I’ve lost you once, and it nearly killed me. I’m not losing you again. I’ll be better, for you, for her, for us.”

You stared at him, your tears drying, your resolve wavering under the weight of his love, his promise. The hallway was silent, the city a distant hum, the world holding its breath as you stood at the crossroads of your heart. You thought of your daughter, of the life you were building, of the love you’d once shared with Eren, the love that still burned, despite everything. Could you take the risk? Could you let him in, not just as a father, but as a partner, a lover, a man trying to redeem himself?

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling, your eyes locked on his. “One chance, Eren. One. But if you hurt me again, if you break her heart or mine, we’re done. For good.”

His face lit up, a mix of shock and hope, his tears falling anew as he nodded, his hands squeezing your shoulders. “One chance,” he echoed, his voice thick with gratitude. “I won’t let you down. I swear it.”

You nodded, stepping back, your arms uncrossing, your heart still racing. “You need to go home,” you said, your voice firmer now, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Sober up, get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow, when you’re not… like this.”

He smiled, a broken, beautiful thing, and nodded, his hands falling to his sides. “Tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with hope, his eyes memorizing you. “I’ll be here, sober, ready. I love you.”

You nodded, your throat tight, and opened the door wider, gesturing to the hall. “Go,” you said, your voice soft, your smile lingering. “And tell Armin I said thanks.”

He laughed, a small, wet sound, and stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours. “I will,” he said, turning toward the stairs, his steps steadier now, his heart lighter than it had been in months. You watched him go, closing the door, your back against the wood, your tears falling freely now.

You sank onto the couch, your hand on your bump, your daughter’s gentle kick a reminder of the future ahead. You loved Eren, and he loved you, and for the first time in months, you believed in the possibility of a family, of healing, of love. Tomorrow, you’d talk, set boundaries, take it slow, but tonight, his kiss lingered on your lips, his promise in your heart, and you smiled, whispering to your daughter, “Maybe, just maybe, we’ll be okay.”

~

Masterlist | Patreon

Tags: faerie-soirxx

[00lunect]

★JD with Braces: Take 3★

Translation:

JD: It huuuuuuuuuuuuurts~…

Bruce: Calm down, John. We'll get ice cream later.

Clay: No ice cream! You heard the dentist: his mouth is a mess. The last thing he needs is more junk for his teeth!

Floyd: Don't be so hard on him. The dentist also said it would take a few weeks for the pain to go away and that it would be good if we did our best to cheer him up…

Clay: You're being very soft. John asked for it by not taking care of it when he could!

Bruce: The underbite isn't something you can prevent by just brushing your teeth, Clay.

Branch: But the tartar, the three cavities, and the broken tooth that they also had to treat can.

JD: Shut up…

So, I decided to add a little ✨angst✨ to the whole JD braces thing because in my last doodle, the man didn't suffer enough, and my brain came up with more lore about it. (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠).

So, it turns out the underbite isn't the only thing wrong with John's mouth when they go to the dentist. While getting checked out, the doctor discovers the man has been living with a considerable amount of tartar, three cavities, and a broken tooth between his teeth for a few years, which obviously worries the brothers greatly and causes them to scold John for having neglected his oral hygiene so badly. At least for the first few years he was away from the Troll Tree. Apparently, his teeth started hurting about two or three years after Brozone separated, which is why he was forced to return home (also because he missed his family terribly, of course, but the cavities simply made him rush to get there faster and see a dentist).

Unfortunately for him, he found the Troll Tree empty, and, devastated by all this, he ends up neglecting his hygiene even more for a while, until he manages to make his own toothpaste. Years later, he discovers the other tribes, but unsure of what to expect from his medicine, he doesn't dare visit a local dentist for a checkup. By now, he'd gotten used to living with the pain as a kind of punishment for abandoning his family, so he just sticks to getting proper toothbrushes and real toothpaste. Since then, he brushes every day after every meal to prevent his dental problems from worsening and tooth loss, and somehow it worked, as even the dentist was impressed that he still had a set of teeth to save.

The rest of Brozone is horrified by the revelation and extremely worried for their older brother.

John Dory receives THE scolding of his life, plus special treatment to restore his teeth to their former glory (or whatever they once were before the split), which is pretty easy for the Pop Trolls considering their high-sugar diet, so performing miracles regarding cavities was their specialty. The broken tooth and tartar were more difficult, but the dentist managed. Finally, after several weeks of constant (and painful. Really painful) treatment and making sure John Dory's teeth didn't fall out anytime soon, they finally address the initial problem: the underbite. By now, John Dory has already had a terrible time with the other treatments, barely able to sleep after someone drilled into his teeth for hours and put some weird, bad-tasting stuff in them to fix them. So, braces are the icing on the cake. The pressure in his mouth is unbearable, and according to the dentist, he'd have to deal with that pain for a few more weeks.

Long story short, JD was going to suffer for another month, and he's exhausted and almost traumatized by it all. The only thing his brothers can do in the face of such a pathetic sight is try to make him feel better or keep him comfortable until it passes, and John can only last a few hours before finally being overcome by the urge to cry…

But don't feel sad, people, this is all for his own good. And once the discomfort from the braces passes, he'll look so cute with his new smile! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠).

…Even if he hates it…

Here are Take 1 and Take 2 of this whole thing, in case you were wondering where this idea of JD with braces came from. Just a silly little thing I thought of the other day and wanted to capture. You'll also notice that the John Dory drawing in this post has facial hair, which the previous one didn't have, so I decided to add it. I don't know, I felt like he needed it. In my previous doodle, he looked very young.

(Edit note: And by the way, here's Take 4 of this, in case you want to see how it continues. Sorry, I totally forgot to add it when I made the new JD with Braces post, but hey, better late than never, right? (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠))

And here's the drawing without text and enlarged, so you can appreciate my boy having a bad time. ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Thanks for reading!

[famesau]

Hiiii! Idk if you like doing sort of vague requests like this, but could I get some platonic sfw hcs where the reader became friends with Kieran really quickly? If that makes sense? Like- they took a liking to him while he was still tied to that tree/tied up in Colter and started sneaking him food, then after he was free they starting hanging out with him, protecting him, etc.

HECK YEAH!!!

I love how many Kieran requests I've been getting I love him so much!! If possible in my second playthrough I would've definitely tried to befriend Kieran XD

a/n: I may have went a little overbored and did headcannons for each chapter..sorry not sorry!

Befriending Kieran Duffy

Colter

If you told the others you were taking care of the O'driscoll you knew it would spark something so you kept it to yourself. When he first arrived you had minor suspicions but soon after you were sneaking him some of Pearson's food and water to help him through the day. The man was befuddled, cautious of your many attempts at conversation and nice deeds but each time he found himself looking forward to it every day.

Your first time talking to him was awkward, as you expected. He was skittish, on edge, and very, very scared. He was afraid he would get roughed up and frankly tired of the continuous questioning. He was quiet at first, but seeing the food in your hands, his eyes lit up. He hoped it was for him, and it was. You both didn't exchange words; his voice was too high to talk properly anyway. Quietly, you fed him and gave him water and left right after, not wanting to get caught. 

On days when the cold was really getting to him, his stomach growled aggressively, and his mental state was being beaten down, you were the one thing that kept him a little hopeful.

Horseshoe Overlook

In Horseshoe Overlook however, things changed slightly, since he was out in the open it was a little more difficult to give him food but you still found a way. After weeks of helping him in Colter, you and he grew closer, a friendship blossoming between you both. What at first was just routinely feeding him turned into routine checkups.

Even in his tied-up state, he checked on you, always thanking you for your help and wishing to thank you properly.

The day he was untied to the tree after being threatened by gelding tongs by Bill you were fuming! You wanted to step In and help or at least see if he was okay but as soon he was untied he was ushered off elsewhere for a few of the guys in camp. The entire time he was gone you wanted to curse out Bill and you almost did but it was a waste of time

When he came back you were the first to greet him, happy to see him, and vice versa. Overcame with joy you hugged him, not caring about who saw you. He was startled by the sudden touch but the feeling of being held willingly and tightly made him hug you back with a firm grasp. didn't last too long because he was too used to physical touch and he did reek.

After that, you and he only hung out more. Each day you made sure to check on him. You helped him with chores and even hung out with him when the day was over, just chatting about the day and learning more about him.

Kieran wasn't always sure how to make up for all you did but he did try. Somedays he'd gift you flowers, make small talk with you when you were alone, help you with your chores, and take extra good care of your horse. It was all things he didn't think were a big deal but they meant a lot to you.

His being untied also meant he'd get more weird stares and was often bullied by the men in camp, but anytime he was around and you were around, you were quick to defend him, especially when it was Bill.

Celmens Point

You guys only grew closer as time went on, in Horseshoe Overlook he was frightful about leaving camp but now he was a little more comfortable with venturing a little ways outside of camp. You and he would go on mini fishing trips often (even if you barely had any experience with fishing, you just wanted to spend time with him and him with you). On days when you'd leave camp, you'd sometimes come back with more fishing bait or new lures for him. He'd practically jump for joy each time you brought him back something.

If he caught a big fish you'd always be the first person he'd show. He'd always rant about the type of fish and how difficult it was to reel in and you'd happily listen.

Even though the others were slowly treating him better you still kept being his best friend.

when news of Jack being taken spread through camp you were all worried but Kieran took it the worst. For a while, he kept his worries to himself until shady Belle.

Shady belle

Things were pretty grim but when you were down he was there for you. Quick to check on you and offer you a shoulder to lean on.

After he confessed he was the reason Jack got taken he broke down in your arms and you comforted him. Held him tight and every day after that you checked on him, always making time for you and him to hang out. Those moments were one of his favorites, being important enough to spend time with daily filled him with immense joy. Thanks to you you made his life a little less hard.

The day Jack was brought home you were right in the middle of all the singing and celebrating. Singing loudly with Javier and the gang with a nice cold beer in your hand. It was nice but you couldn't properly celebrate without your best buddy Kieran. You moved away from the crowd and winded down your night alongside Kieran, sharing laughs and plenty of songs together.

THAT'S ALL I'M WRITING ONLY GOOD VIBES TONIGHT!!!!! <3333

[sea-lanterns]

God forbid the hybrid ladies go into heat and start fighting over vet!reader (I stare at panther!arlecchino and Leopard!Xilonen)

After the slip up I can see many of the hybrids growling when they see Panther! Arlecchino had snatched you up for herself, causing you to be late for your other checkups. No fair, Arlecchino was being so greedy with you! The other women on the sanctuary want to use you too!

And of course, Panther! Arlecchino is too possessive over you to share, so just as she is about to drag you somewhere high so she could mate with you in a tree, Leopard! Xilonen tackles her and engages the all out war for you 😭

No one gets seriously hurt, but now Vet Reader will have to deal with horny hybrids and some minor injuries on everyone involved in the conflict💀

[mika-mp3]

The treasure is all mine

-chapter three-

(Prologe, chapter one, chapter two, chapter four)

Genshin Impact x Creator!reader

warnings: no y/n used, slight yandere behavior, possible spelling errors, rain lol

summary: Tighnari leads you to his home; Gandharva Village, where you meet Collei. However.. they are starting to take note of the strange things happening around you and suspect there is more to who you are then what meets the eye....

characters: you, Tighnari, Collei

word count: 2159

wattpad story here

https://pin.it/1dI84VVUB

As the fire crackles and the rain continues to fall outside, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to drift into a restful sleep, your heart filled with hope and determination. The journey to uncover your past and discover your true identity has only just begun, and you are ready to embrace it, one step at a time.

The journey through the forest was both arduous and enlightening. Days melded into one another as Tighnari led you through the vast, dense woodland. The sun filtered through the towering trees, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor, while the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves provided a serene backdrop. Along the way, Tighnari shared his knowledge of the flora and fauna, teaching you about the medicinal properties of various plants and the habits of the forest's creatures.

One morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the leafs above, Tighnari turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and relief. "We're nearing Gandharva Village. It's a place of respite and learning for the Forest Rangers, often referred to as 'The City Above the Forest.' It's an important outpost, frequented by travelers, merchants, and adventurers."

Your heart quickened at the prospect of finally reaching a place of relative civilization. The forest had been beautiful, but the constant uncertainty of your situation had left you yearning for some stability.

"City Above the Forest?" you echoed, curiosity piqued.

Tighnari nodded. "Yes. Gandharva Village is built on a series of platforms and walkways suspended above the forest floor. It's designed to blend harmoniously with the natural environment, minimizing our footprint and maintaining the delicate balance of the ecosystem."

As you walked, the forest began to change subtly. The trees grew even taller, their trunks thicker and more ancient. The air felt different, fresher somehow, as if you were ascending into a different realm. You passed by shimmering waterfalls and crossed crystal-clear streams, each sight more breathtaking than the last.

Tighnari paused occasionally to point out interesting plants or animal tracks, his passion for the natural world evident in every word. "This is a varuna tree," he explained at one point, gesturing to an enormous tree with roots that seemed to span across the forest. "Its sap is highly prized for its healing properties. The rangers often collect it for medical use."

You nodded, absorbing the information. "It's incredible how everything in the forest seems to have a purpose."

"Indeed," Tighnari agreed. "Nature is a masterful teacher, if only we take the time to listen."

As the sun climbed higher, you finally caught sight of Gandharva Village. True to Tighnari's description, it was a marvel of engineering and nature. Wooden platforms connected by rope bridges and ladders formed a network high above the ground, blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. Lush greenery draped over the structures, and colorful flowers added vibrant splashes of color.

"Welcome to Gandharva Village," Tighnari said with a smile. "Let's head to my house. I want to conduct a thorough medical checkup to ensure you're alright."

You followed him across the swaying bridges, marveling at the ingenuity of the village's design. The air was filled with the scents of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest. Villagers greeted Tighnari warmly as you passed, their smiles reflecting the close-knit community spirit.

Arriving at Tighnari's house, you found it to be a cozy, well-kept dwelling, filled with books, herbs, and various scientific instruments. He gestured for you to sit on a comfortable chair by a large window that offered a stunning view of the forest canopy.

"Let's see," Tighnari began, retrieving a medical kit. "I'll check your vitals first."

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervousness. As he worked, his touch was gentle but precise, his eyes focused and attentive. The sense of care he exuded was reassuring.

As he examined you, Tighnari continued to share more about the village. "Gandharva Village serves as the main hub for the Forest Rangers. We monitor the forest, ensuring its health and safety. It's also a place where travelers can rest and resupply. The community here is diverse, with people from all walks of life coming together to protect and learn from the forest."

You listened intently, feeling a growing sense of connection to this place. "It sounds like a wonderful community. I can see why you love it here."

Tighnari smiled warmly. "It is. The forest is our lifeblood, and we do our best to live in harmony with it. Speaking of which, your readings are normal, but you need to stay warm and dry to avoid falling ill."

Before you could respond, the door to the house burst open, and a young girl with green hair and a sturdy looking bow rushed in. "Master Tighnari! You're back!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with relief. "I was so worried..."

Tighnari looked up, a mixture of surprise and warmth in his eyes. He fixes his clothing and walked over to her "Collei, it's good to see you. I didn't mean to worry you. We had an unexpected journey."

Collei's gaze shifted to you, her curiosity evident. "Who's this? Are you alright?"

You offered a small smile. "I'm fine, thank you. Tighnari has been taking good care of me."

Tighnari placed a reassuring hand on Collei's shoulder. "This is our guest. They've had a rough time but are safe now. Collei, can you help prepare some hot tea? It'll help them warm up."

Collei nodded eagerly. "Of course, Master." She hurried to the kitchen area, her movements quick and efficient.

As you sat there, enveloped in the warmth of the blanket and the kindness of your new companions, a sense of belonging began to take root. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time since you woke up in the forest, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Tighnari's house, with its mix of natural elements and scientific tools, seemed to reflect his dual nature as both a guardian of the forest and a seeker of knowledge. The walls were adorned with botanical drawings, and shelves were lined with jars of herbs and curious specimens.

"Tighnari," you began, feeling a need to understand more, "It must be incredible to live in a world where such beings as gods and elements exist."

"It is," Tighnari agreed. "But it's also a responsibility. Those who receive visions often feel a duty to use their powers for the greater good."

Before you could ask more, Collei returned with a steaming pot of tea and cups. She poured the tea with practiced ease, and the fragrant steam filled the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

"Here you go," she said, handing you a cup. "This should help warm you up."

You took the cup gratefully, feeling the warmth spread through your hands. "Thank you, Collei."

As you sipped the tea, its soothing warmth spreading through you, you realized that despite the mysteries surrounding your past, you had found a place where you could begin to seek answers. Gandharva Village, with its unique blend of nature and community, felt like a stepping stone on your journey of self-discovery.

Tighnari leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. "Rest for now. We can talk more in the morning. There’s much for you to learn about Teyvat, and perhaps we can uncover more about your past as we go."

You nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude and anticipation. "Thank you, Tighnari. And you too, Collei. I don't know what lies ahead, but I'm glad to have met you both."

With that, you settled into the warmth of the blanket, the fire crackling softly nearby, and the gentle murmur of the forest outside. The rain continued to fall, but within Tighnari's home, you felt safe and hopeful. The journey to uncover your true identity had begun in earnest, and with the support of your new friends, you felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As you drift into a deep, much-needed sleep, Tighnari and Collei moved to a corner of the room, their voices hushed but urgent. Tighnari’s sharp ears twitched slightly, always alert even in the safety of his home. He glanced over at the sleeping figure, then turned his attention back to Collei.

"Master, what happened out there? Who is this person?" Collei asked, her green eyes wide with curiosity and concern.

Tighnari sighed, running a hand through his dark green hair, his fennec ears flicking with agitation. "It's a long story, Collei. I found them wandering in the forest, disoriented and with no memory of who they are or how they got there. But there's more to it than just amnesia."

Collei tilted her head, her fox-like ears twitching in interest. "More? Like what?"

Tighnari leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "The forest itself seemed to react to them. Flowers bloomed in their presence, and the trees seemed to bend to offer protection. It's as if the forest was… welcoming them."

Collei's eyes widened even further. "Welcoming them? But that's… I've never heard of such a thing happening."

"Neither have I," Tighnari admitted. "But that's not all. They don't smell like a normal human. In fact, they don't have any scent at all, which is highly unusual. Every living being has a scent, but they don't. It's like they exist outside the natural order of things."

Collei frowned, trying to process the information. "Do you think they could be… a god? Or some other non-human creature?"

Tighnari sighed again, his expression thoughtful. "It's possible. Their presence feels different, almost otherworldly. There's a calmness and a sense of belonging that I can't quite explain. It's like they are part of the forest in a way that goes beyond mere human understanding."

Collei hesitated, then spoke up. "I remember an old tale I heard as a child, a legend about the Creator. It was said that the Creator would one day return to Teyvat, bringing harmony and balance to the world. Could it be possible that…"

Tighnari's eyes widened slightly. "The Creator? It's a tale I've heard too, but always dismissed as myth. Yet, the signs… they can't be ignored."

Collei nodded slowly, her mind racing. "If they truly are the Creator, or even something close to that, it could explain why the forest reacted the way it did. The forest, the plants, even the animals – they all recognized them."

Tighnari looked back at the sleeping figure, his expression softening. "If that's true, then their presence here could have far-reaching implications. We need to keep them safe and help them recover their memories. Only then can we understand their true purpose and what it means for Teyvat."

Collei agreed, her determination matching Tighnari's. "We'll do everything we can to protect them and help them find out who they are. This could be the start of something incredible."

Tighnari smiled, careful not to touch her, knowing how much she disliked physical contact. "Thank you, Collei. Your support means a lot. For now, let's focus on keeping them safe and comfortable. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

They both turned their attention back to the sleeping figure, their minds filled with questions and possibilities. The journey ahead was uncertain, but with the bond they shared and the resolve they held, they felt ready to face whatever challenges lay in wait.

Tighnari then spoke again, a new idea forming in his mind. "Collei, there is someone who might be able to help us. The Dendro Archon, the God of Wisdom. She has knowledge beyond our understanding. If anyone can provide answers, it's her."

Collei's eyes lit up with hope. "The Dendro Archon? Yes, she would surely know what to do. We should take them to her."

Tighnari nodded. "It's settled then. Tomorrow, we'll prepare for the journey to meet the Dendro Archon. Let's hope she can shed some light on this mystery."

---

The sun rose gently over Gandharva Village, casting a warm glow over the intricate network of platforms and bridges. The village was already bustling with activity as Forest Rangers went about their duties, preparing for another day of safeguarding the forest.

Inside Tighnari's home the air was filled with the scent of fresh herbs and flowers. You stirred from your sleep, blinking slowly as you adjusted to the morning light streaming through the windows.

Tighnari and Collei were already up, speaking quietly near the door. They turned as the reader awoke, their expressions softening with concern.

"Good morning," Tighnari greeted with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," you reply, still feeling the lingering warmth of the blankets. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Collei said, her voice gentle. "We're here to help you."

As they prepared for the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of being part of something much larger. The forest, the village, and the people around them all seemed to resonate with a sense of purpose and connection.

Tighnari's words from the previous night echoed in your mind. The journey to uncover your true identity was just beginning, and with the support of your new friends, they felt ready to face whatever lay ahead. The path forward was uncertain, but it was also filled with hope and the promise of discovery.

https://www.pinterest.de/pin/126311964540912532/

Thank you so much for reading! Fell free to give me feedback and ideas how to continue this!

P.S. I fixed the pov in the end!!

Mika

Taglist:

- @wutap - @saternsky - @vianitry - @fantasyhopperhea

[fixated-cookies]

Bloom in My Ocean

Pairing: Water Iris Cookie (OC) x Lotus Dragon Cookie Word Count: ~2,000 Rating: Explicit / 18+ Warnings: Breeding kink, possessive behavior, dubcon undertones, overstimulation, creampie, pregnancy implications, emotional coaxing, light angst, praise @gloryraiin  After learning they may be the last of their kind, Lotus Dragon Cookie becomes increasingly fixated on a future with Water Iris—one filled with love, legacy, and life. Though Iris harbors fears tied to her past, Lotus’s coaxing becomes harder to resist. What begins with soft promises turns into something deeper, more possessive… and utterly inescapable. COMISSION

The air in the Lotus Palace was still and golden, dusted with the glow of the late afternoon sun. Outside, a gentle breeze rustled the pale leaves of the sacred trees, their petals occasionally drifting into the waters below like silent messengers. The rippling pond shimmered with light, koi fish twisting lazily beneath the surface. Somewhere near the garden steps, Water Iris sat with her knees pulled up, a worn leather journal balanced against her thighs, the end of her quill stained blue.

She wasn’t writing.

She stared down at the page instead, her mouth drawn in a rare frown. Her normally energetic aura had dulled since the last doctor visit, a subtle cloud trailing her every move. She’d laughed it off, of course. Said it was nothing. Said she just had a lot on her mind lately. But Lotus Dragon Cookie saw through her in seconds.

Lotus approached in silence, their pale, regal figure casting a soft shadow over her form. "You haven’t turned a page in ten minutes," they said, kneeling gracefully beside her. "Even the fish have grown bored of waiting for your next theory."

Iris startled slightly. She turned her head, trying to hide the faintest guilty smile. "You were watching me?"

"Always," Lotus replied smoothly, their voice a breathy murmur, like silk brushing skin. "But I know you well enough to recognize when your mind is elsewhere."

There was a pause. Water Iris looked down again. Her fingers fidgeted with the corner of a page.

"...My mother died giving birth to me."

Lotus’s smile didn’t falter, but something in their eyes shifted—softened, sharpened. They reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve never told me that before.”

“I didn’t want to,” Iris muttered, almost embarrassed. “It’s stupid. I know it doesn’t mean anything. I’ve had checkups. Tests. You’ve had half of Earthbread’s healers inspect me—remember?” She tried to force a laugh. “But it’s still there. That fear.”

Lotus tilted their head, studying her. “You are not your mother, my flower.”

“I know that,” she said quickly. “I just... I don’t want to die. Not like that. Not if it’s for a child I’ll never get to meet.”

Lotus was quiet for a long moment. Then: “But what if you lived?” Their voice was quieter now, dangerous in its gentleness. “What if you bore life—and lived, and loved, and created something... no one else could? What if you gave the world something only you and I could make?”

Iris’s breath caught.

Lotus smiled, and this time, it was something different. Deeper. They leaned in close, lips barely brushing the shell of her ear. “It would be a shame, wouldn’t it,” they whispered, “if my bloodline died with me? If no one ever knew what beauty two rare creatures could birth together.”

That night, sleep didn’t come.

Water Iris lay motionless on their shared bed, eyes wide in the dim quiet. Her heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of something unspoken—soft and slow, like waves lapping at the shore, threatening to pull her out to sea.

Behind her, Lotus stirred.

Their voice came low, nearly broken with longing. “You’re awake again.”

She didn’t respond, but her breath hitched just enough.

“I knew it.” A soft inhale. Then the warm, reverent weight of Lotus’s hand slid around her waist, fingers digging slightly into the fabric of her sleepwear. “You’ve been thinking about it too, haven’t you?”

“I…” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know.”

They pressed closer, their body curled tight against her back now. “You do,” Lotus whispered, more to themselves than her. “I can feel it. Every time I touch you, your body hums. It wants it.” Their voice cracked like thunder behind clouds. “You want it.”

She tensed. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” they breathed. “You think it’s complicated, but I’ve solved all the complications for you. Doctors. Healers. The finest care. I’ve ensured you’re perfect for this.”

Their hand slipped lower, palm splayed flat against her belly. “This is meant to hold life.”

“Lotus…” she warned softly.

But they weren’t listening. Their lips were at her neck, open-mouthed and trembling. “I want you swollen with my child. Full of it. Radiant and glowing. I want to look at you and know that I did that. That you belong to me in every way. No one else will ever—can ever—look at you the same.”

Their voice turned softer, shakier, like they were begging now. “Please, Iris… Let me give this to you. I’m the last of my kind. You—you could change that. We could bring something new into this world. Something sacred.”

“Why now?” she whispered. Her voice was trembling too. “Why are you—”

“Because I can’t wait anymore,” Lotus said, their voice shaking as though the desperation had cracked wide open. “Every time I see you sleeping beside me, every time I feel your warmth... I ache. I ache to make something real with you. Something alive. You’re everything I have, and I want to build more of you.”

She gasped softly as their fingers slid between her thighs—coaxing, not forceful, but greedy. They groaned when they found her wet. “See? Your body knows.”

“L-Lotus…”

“I’ll be careful,” they whispered hoarsely, as if their restraint hung by a thread. “You won’t even have to move. I’ll do everything. Just let me put it inside. Just once.”

One of her hands clutched the sheets.

“Let me fill you, Iris. Let me make you mine in a way that no one can ever undo.”

"Okay, okay, okay—I get it,” she huffs, wriggling under Lotus’s slow descent of kisses. “You’re being awfully dramatic for someone who's clearly just trying to get laid.”

Lotus only chuckles, breath hot against her collarbone. "Is it so wrong to adore the one I intend to fill with my legacy?"

“Oh stars,” she mutters, rolling her eyes—but her fingers twitch against their shoulders, betraying how warm her skin is getting beneath their lips. “You sound like one of those over-the-top romance novels my sisters keep under their beds.”

"And yet, you haven’t stopped me," Lotus murmurs, voice low and curling like mist.

She scoffs. “Only ‘cause you’re warm and you smell good,” she grumbles—but her voice breaks just slightly when Lotus’s hands move to her thighs, parting them slowly with reverence. “Don’t get smug about it.”

“I could never,” they purr, dragging their tongue along the inside of her thigh, “But I will get thorough.”

“Oh come *on—*ahh…”

Iris tries to keep her snark sharp, even as her body betrays her with every slow swipe of Lotus’s tongue between her folds. Her legs twitch, toes curling, and she grips the edge of the bedding like it might anchor her.

"Y-You’re lucky I don’t scare easy,” she hisses, breath uneven. “This is a terrible idea, you know that? Terrible. You’re going to get me all emotional and then what? What if I—ahh—what if I—"

Lotus kisses her clit softly, murmuring, "Then I’ll hold you through every moment. Every fear. Every bloom of life."

“You’re insufferable,” she gasps.

“But you’re still here,” they whisper.

She falters. Because she is still here. Because her thighs are open and her face is flushed and her heart is beating so hard she can feel it in her ears.

Lotus’s fingers slip inside, curling perfectly, drawing out the prettiest sounds she didn’t mean to make.

"Say you want it," they coax, almost trembling themselves now. "Say you want me to breed you. Say you’ll be mine."

Iris bites her lip, eyes fluttering, and for one heartbeat the world feels very, very still.

“I…” she pants, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I don’t do soft.”

Lotus leans in, brushing their nose to hers. “Then do real. Be mine. Let me give you the future.”

She swallows—hard. And finally, with her hands fisting in their long silvery hair:

“…Fine. You better make it worth it, you sappy sea snake.”

Lotus doesn’t waste a second.

The moment those reluctant words tumble from her lips—“Fine. You better make it worth it, you sappy sea snake.”—their mouth crashes onto hers with something far more desperate than triumph. Their fingers tremble where they cradle her hips, and they break the kiss only to whisper, "You won't regret this. I swear it."

“You say that,” she pants, pulling back just enough to glare, “but I’m still waiting for the part where you prove it.”

Lotus’s breath stutters. They press her down gently, reverently, as if she might vanish beneath their palms. One hand cups the small of her back, guiding her into place; the other strokes down her thigh, anchoring her as they line themselves up, tip dragging against her soaked entrance.

“You’re already perfect,” they whisper. “But you’ll be even more beautiful when you’re round with my seed.”

“You’re seriously not gonna shut up through this, huh?” she breathes—but the heat in her face betrays her. Her hips roll instinctively, hungry despite her words.

Lotus thrusts forward slowly—inch by inch—until the heat of her folds swallows them in full.

A strangled moan rips from her throat. “Ngh—shit—”

“You feel divine,” they groan, trembling. “Tight... hot… like you were made to keep me inside you.”

“You’re the one with a god complex,” she gasps, nails biting into their shoulders. “Don’t pin your kinks on me—ahhh—!”

They sink in deeper, grinding their hips in slow, relentless circles. Iris’s snappy remarks collapse into broken whimpers. Every roll of Lotus’s hips presses into that softest, sweetest part of her—dulling her edges, peeling her open like wet petals under pressure.

Lotus leans down, their forehead resting against hers.

“I’m going to fill you,” they murmur, possessive, almost pleading. “Again. And again. Until you can feel nothing but me inside you.”

Iris shudders. Her body, once tense with resistance, now quivers from how full she is. Her voice is wrecked, but her mouth still runs. “Y-You’re so dramatic… mmh—”

They thrust again, slow but deep, stealing her breath.

“Say it,” Lotus breathes into her ear. “Say you want to be full of my eggs. Say you want our little flower dragons.”

She shakes her head weakly, face flushed. “You’re—nghh—you’re insane…”

They shift, grabbing under her thighs and pressing her knees up toward her chest, folding her open as they bury themselves even deeper. Her eyes snap wide.

“Nnnh—okay, okay! F-Fuck!”

Lotus kisses the corner of her eye, drinking in every tear and curse. “That’s it… you can take it. You’re strong. You’re mine.”

“I hate you,” she groans, biting her lip, “so much—”

But her arms are locked around their neck now. And she isn’t pushing them away.

She’s pulling them deeper. The moment Iris tightens around them—choked gasps breaking through her bitten lips—Lotus loses it.

Their pace stutters, then grows erratic. Desperate. Almost feral. The grip on her thighs tightens as their hips snap forward, burying themselves as far as they can go, grinding into her trembling body with needy, possessive hunger.

“Iris—nnhh—Iris—!”

She barely registers the way her name sounds in their voice. Just the way she’s shaking, crying out, curling helplessly beneath them. Her own orgasm hits like a crashing wave, sudden and blinding, making her cry out something between a curse and a sob as she clamps down around Lotus’s cock.

And then—

Lotus cums.

Warmth floods her.

Thick and heavy, the heat of it pulses deep inside, pushing into every inch of her overstimulated body. Her back arches, instinctively trying to wriggle away, but Lotus holds her tight—still thrusting in small, grinding circles, like they’re making sure every drop stays inside.

“Mine…” they pant into her shoulder. “You’re mine. No one else gets this—only me. You’ll keep it all, won’t you? Let it take. Let it grow…”

She whimpers, barely able to speak. “Lotus—mmh—i-it’s so much…”

“I know,” they murmur, delirious. “You’re taking me so well… My strong girl. My pretty, stubborn girl. You’ll give me our dragons, won’t you?”

Iris can’t answer. She’s trembling, sweaty, barely conscious. Her legs are still shaking from the high, her face buried in the crook of their neck. Lotus strokes her back gently, murmuring more—soft, reverent, insane.

“All ours… our little flower dragons. They’ll have your fire, your spirit, your beauty… and my blood. I’ll give you everything.”

They don’t pull out. Not for a long time.

They stay pressed flush against her, letting her feel every twitch of them still buried inside, every lingering throb and aftershock.

Eventually, Lotus kisses her temple.

“You did so well,” they whisper, brushing sweaty hair from her cheek. “You’re safe. I’ll protect you—and them. Forever.”

She tries to speak—but all that comes out is a tiny, tired sigh.

And then a faint, begrudging whisper: “You better…”

Lotus smiles, lips curling against her ear.

“I will.”

They wrap around her like seafoam, cocooning her spent body in warmth. And as her eyes flutter shut, sleep pulling her under, she’s distantly aware of their hand moving down to her belly—resting there, claiming it.

She was never getting out of this.

And somehow… that realization isn’t quite as scary as she thought.

[pokemonshelterstories]

You know how, sometimes, when you work with certain pokemon, they can sometimes imprint on you? And that leads to either the pokemon seeing you as a parent (if this happens while it's young) or seeing you as a potential mate (if this happens while it's older)? Well, I have a friend who is currently rehabilitating a dull and chronically rusty Skarmory, and this seems to have happened to him. Big ol' metal birdie has taken a liking to him.

Unfortunately, she has started getting aggressive whenever female staff members interact with him in her line of sight, doing things like flaring her wings and screeching. She hasn't actually attacked anyone, but the staff are worried nonetheless. Even dull, her wings have cut through whole trees in her enclosure before.

They have the equipment necessary to deal with a hostile Skarmory, but because of her dull and rusted state, some staff are concerned that it might just hurt her.

Is there anything you could recommend? Either a way to dissuade the Skarmory from its amorous feelings for my friend, or to keep her calm while she's being cared for?

this is something we see happen with human-raised skarmory on occasion. skarmory are not social pokemon by default and will typically only bond with other skarmory during mating and nesting season, after which they split off from each other and live solitary lives for the rest of the year.

this is about the time of year when skarmory begin breeding, especially in areas with warmer climates, so she's going to be hormonal and aggressive regardless. this is on top of her not feeling well, which often makes pokemon more quick to lash out.

for their safety and her emotional well-being, the best thing they can do for her is to really just. leave her alone unless she's actively getting treatment. don't let anyone linger around her enclosure. anesthetize her if they need to get hands-on. ball her if they need to enter to put out food or clean the enclosure. if he's the only person she'll tolerate for things like daily visual checkups, then assign him to focus solely on her as much as they can. for rehab purposes, skarmory is classified as an inherently dangerous pokemon (they fall under subclass Ib- pokemon with territorial aggression- and IIa- pokemon with whom physical contact can cause immediate harm), which means that she should not be handled in free contact unless proven not to pose a significant risk of danger. because of this, they should always have a barrier between her and staff unless she is under anesthesia.

you can't really argue with a skarmory's feelings- and it isn't safe to try, because it doesn't take much for a skarmory to cause severe injury to a human. even their bonding behaviors with their mates, such as preening and wing-slapping, are unsafe for humans because of how sharp their bodies are. hopefully as her hormones settle and as they lessen contact with her, she will become less aggressive. until then, though, the best way to prevent injury is to not give any opportunity for it to happen.

[poisonouslili]

tradition’s ligature marks always yellow through

I blacked out and somehow spewed even more words for OLL by @rotting-ink. Enjoy almost 4k words of madness!

This started when I thought about the cultural difference between the Isles and Varan, and how the general public thought about their marriage practices.

Please ignore the lame tree joke, I was in the plane and even when I got back was too lazy to think of something smarter. It's also hilarious to me how I just wanted to write spoiled princess mc and couldn't even do that til the end.

Thanks to lovely raven for beta reading this mess!

ao3 link here!

♡ ship: pavel volchek x princess reader. and somehow also sasha volchek x princess reader.

♡ about: (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) a young, sickly princess is faced with the reality of of how her affection for pasha might be perceived.

♡ warnings: still step-cest. illness, child experiencing medical distress (e.g., wheezing, coughing blood), anxiety and panic attacks.

"Princess? Princess, come out, please. You'll be late for your check-up!"

You puffed your cheeks in frustration and wriggled deeper into the bush, hiding yourself further as your nanny's voice crept closer. Did she think you were a fool? Why would the promise of your checkup tempt you away from your hideout? The twins were right when they called her a stupid birch. However, you were not sure why one tree in particular was considered stupid. You made a note to ask Papa over supper. That is, if you were allowed to eat dinner with everyone else tonight.

You held your breath as she passed the bushes you were hiding in. You could see her worn shoes from your crawl space, wandering in nervous circles around the place, pausing before finally leaving.

You smiled brightly. You were so much better at hiding! Your siblings will definitely be amazed with your improvement, and you could not wait till the next hide-and-seek game so you can make them all gasp in awe at how good you've gotten! Even Pasha would see no need to hide with you anymore, saying silly things like how you were 'too small to hide alone'. You were confident you were skilled enough to hide quietly for days now! Months even, if you had enough snacks. Pasha would definitely be proud if he couldn't find you at all.

(He'd be worried, but you wouldn't know that.)

Aksana had been starting classes for nobles to prepare for marriage, and she told you that they were teaching her skills that should impress her future spouse. Surely, being a good hider was one of them! The thought made your cheek turn pink as you imagined Pasha's proud smile as he praised you. Giving you a big, warm hug and—

"…trouble…ditch…"

Huh?

Your monologue of triumph and rose-tinted fantasies was put on pause by the unfamiliar sounds that you heard. Rising slowly, you dusted off your dress. Which was now grass-stained so much it looked like a new color was dyed halfway. Oops. That wasn't important right now. What was important were those voices. You walked with wary steps to the source of the voices, wondering who it could be.

It was strange, hardly anybody was allowed near Papa's garden. The greenhouse was closed, and you saw the chain yourself as you snuck away from your nanny.

Your chest throbbed a few times, as it had been for a while now, enough to cause discomfort but not enough to be painful, at least not yet. Still, you pressed forward. You had to check them out! Even if it was a bit scary. Papa loved those plants, you did too! You had a lily and a snappy dragon that Papa was helping you raise, it wouldn't do if some ne-fari-ous person was gonna steal or ruin them!

Gathering your courage, your hands clutched your skirt as you made the last few steps up until you arrived at the back of the greenhouse. Everything was darker here, the shade of the building hiding everything in scary shadows. You gulped, your steps now tepid. Should you just go back? Maybe tell—

"I already told you, no one comes here at this time of day! My god."

You jumped, startled at the angry yell. Quickly, you pressed yourself to the wall of the greenhouse as you slowly peeked around the edge.

There stood two men you didn't recognize. They must have been servants because their clothes were very dirty, all covered in soot. Even their faces and noses were black. Chimney-sweepers, perhaps. Their sight usually made you giggle in the rare times you caught them leaving the rooms after cleaning the chimneys, but with how dark the back was they looked…scary.

"If you've a mind to grumble, take it elsewhere so I can smoke in peace," the closest person to your hiding place, a tall, burly man, gruffly huffed to the man next to him as he continued puffing from his pipe.

"Artem," the other guy, who was short and lean, looked disapproving but didn't leave as he leaned on the wall. "You'll give yourself away if you shout like that. The royals come here all of the time, one of 'em might hear you."

Artem snorted, unimpressed. "They aren't here at this time of day, Yury. Too busy practicing dancing or some shit."

"They're preparing for a ball, actually," Yury informed him as he got out his own pipe. "Word is, they're beginning the match-making for the eldest daughter."

Were they talking about Aksana?

"Ah, whoring out their spawn this early? Typical of highborns." Artem muttered darkly as he took a deep inhale of his tobacco.

You didn't understand what that meant entirely, but the way Yury's eyes widened and his urgent whisper told you it was not proper. "Hey! You cannot—you cannot say such things aloud. Especially inside the House! You do not know who is listening and the punishment for saying things like that is—!"

You couldn't see Artem's face as he was far too tall and was hidden in the shadow of the roof, which made him look frightening. Like the shadow puppets the twins made late at night to scare you when you got ready for bed.

"Bah," he ignored Yury's warning, leaning back on the wall and dragging deeply from his pipe. "Why are they bothering with a suitor anyway? I thought Varan royals married each other."

Yury sighed, "You speak as if it is abnormal. They do, but it depends on the House and whether it brings gain. Besides, House Aureus has not done so in decades. It's not a sure thing."

A light cough. Your chest throbbed again. 'Not a sure thing.'

Artem took a long drag off his pipe again, releasing a puff of smoke into the chilly autumn air. "You lot are the only ones who think it…normal. Nobody in the Isles agrees with this shit. Marrying your kin, your siblings, it's nothing short of disgusting."

…Disgusting?

The heaving cough that was building up almost burst out of you. Your eyes watered as you tried to stop it, clasping a hand on your mouth as quickly as you could. Your chest tightened as you felt the familiar and painful sensation of your lungs constricting around the air. The words echoed in your mind, reminiscent of the twins when they repeated insults over and over so they'd stick in your head.

Disgusting? Wanting to marry your—was he—Pasha. Pasha.

The small takes of breaths were replaced by painful wheezes that got worse with each deepening cough. You whimpered as you tried to be quiet, but it was in vain.

"What the fuck?"

"Wait—what in the—Is that—the little Princess?!"

You didn't have time to worry about getting caught as you doubled over on the ground, shuddering as your body did nothing but wheeze as it tried to breathe. This…was so much more painful than usual. Your chest throbbed like someone was holding it in their fists. You grabbed the grass's blades in kind, and your nails dug into the dirt, and as you felt the familiar damp feeling of the soil on your fists, it did little to comfort you, only succeeding in reminding you of how much you needed your Papa right now."

The two men were panicking, but you were too far gone to even focus on what they were doing. You could feel the blood coming out again, traveling through your lungs, making it near impossible to get enough air. A pathetic sob managed to get wrung out of you as the bloody phlegms dotted the grass in red. Your new dress, too. Mama…will be cross with you.

You heard a scream, it sounded…like your nanny? Voices were arguing…you felt dizzy. Your eyes felt hazy.

You just wanted to breathe, cry in Papa’s lap as he gently patted your hair.

You were not sure how long you drifted in and out of consciousness.

It was a familiar but thoroughly unwelcome sensation when you could barely register your surroundings and were too fatigued to do anything about it. At first, you were only able to hear the faint sound of your wheezing and felt your chest go up and down in tandem with it. Then, something soft covering you. Eventually, the sounds around you started to become more clear.

"Sweetheart," your Papa called out, sighing in relief. "Oh, my poor little darling. Can you hear me?"

He rubbed his cold hand on your sweaty forehead and you leaned into it gratefully. You tried to speak, only hacking instead.

"There, there. Take it easy."

You did as you were told, remembering the usual steps after an attack. You wet your lips as you looked at your father with bleary eyes. It hurt. This wasn't…this wasn't the usual pain you were used to. It wasn't just your body, something else was wrong. Your chest hurt.

He gave you a soft, hesitant smile, leaning down as he continued to rub your head. "There you are. Do you remember anything of what happened to you?"

What happened?

"Disgusting."

Needles, sharp and twisted, poked at your chest. A sob wrenched itself out of you, as painful as the breaths you tried to take. You saw your Papa's expression crumble before it blurred with your tears, hot and streaming fast down your waning cheeks. You weren't sure what you stammered, doubtless, you were incoherent as you tried to make sense of the pain you were in. You managed to make out the constant exclamation of "it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts!" that you don't remember voicing.

Papa gathered you in his arms, the usually comforting action making you feel even more stifled from how tight it was. Two other pairs of hands pulled you away from him as they all argued, just like your siblings when they fought over a helpless doll. You kept wheezing and sobbing until a cloth was shoved into your nose, the smell of it sweet as unconsciousness abruptly took you away again.

You felt as if you coughed your lungs out.

The doctors assured your Papa and Mama that you were better, even as you sobbed quietly into your father's chest. You couldn't answer any of their questions about what happened, you—you didn't want to be reminded of it. Every time you did, your chest started to hurt again and you couldn't breathe. You were so tired from it all, all you wanted was to be held and for everyone to be quiet and leave you alone!

"I do not care if they claim they have not laid a finger on her," you heard Mama's voice from somewhere far away. But it was not the warm or the stern tone you were used to. That one was…cold and scary. You whimpered as you buried yourself further into Papa's embrace, who cooed and rubbed your back. "They did something, and I want to know what it is before I have them publicly flogged!"

"Y-your imperial majesty, I understand the need for justice for the poor princess. But even after the interrogation by the witches, they swear they haven't even spoken to her!"

"Useless! All of you!" Your Mama yelled, making you flinch.

You didn't want her or anyone else to find out! With puffy eyes and flushed cheeks, you raised your head and made up a lie about how they were only nearby as you got worse.

Nobody seemed convinced, but no other explanation had presented itself and everyone silently accepted to focus on your recovery first and foremost.

Your Papa never left your side, which you were utterly grateful for. The whirlwind of confusing emotion and the painful reality of your discovery would have been too much to stew in alone.

Once your breathing calmed to the occasional cough and the pain in your chest settled into a dull throb, your papa casually asked, "Now that you're feeling better, how about I call out your siblings to come here and greet you? They have been very worried about you, and I'm sure a visit will cheer you all up."

You tensed in his lap, staring at the book he was reading to you. "N-no. I am not feeling well enough."

Papa's eyebrows furrowed. This was…unusual. It was you who always begged for the company of your siblings, especially when you got sick as it made you feel left out.

"Well," he cleared his throat as he moved to the next page, which had an illustration of a black cat with a dead rat in its mouth, staring right at you. Like it knew the dark thoughts swirling deep in your gut. "How about just Pasha?" He offered easily. "He's been so awfully concerned about you, you know."

You stiffened. The cat's eyes seemed bigger, you swore you could smell the stinking stench of the rat. "No."

"Sweetling?"

You took a deep breath, the words cracking in your throat. "I don't…I don't wanna see Pasha."

You missed the shocked intake of breath above your head, too busy tracing over the words on the neighboring page and trying to ignore the all-knowing feline eyes near it. "Can you continue please?"

"O-one second, my love." He called out to the maid standing dutifully in the corner, who promptly came and leaned down. "Send a message to the Tsarina that I need to speak with her urgently."

You did not notice the worry in his voice, busying yourself with trying to make out an unfamiliar word under your fingertip.

That night, your fever worsened. It wasn't unusual, probably a side effect of one of the many treatments the doctors and the witches had you on. Papa gave you a kiss on the forehead before he left, but now you were alone.

When you felt a hand comb through your hair, a wet, ragged cough dragged you back to waking. Groggy and disoriented, you assumed it was Papa until you heard Sasha mutter, "Mother should have hanged them."

"Sasha?" You croaked out, throat raw, "Why are you here? I told Papa—"

"I chose to ignore your request," he said flatly, "because it was silly, and you're being a silly little princess like you always are." He pinched your cheek lightly and you whined, blindly swatting at his hand in the dark.

"Sit up, I brought you some sweets."

You blinked at him through fever-blurred eyes but did what he asked obediently. Sasha had always been the one willing to break the orders of your doctors' for you, and tonight was no exception. Besides, you were so drained physically and mentally that you felt you deserved a treat.

He smoothed your tangled bedhead with one hand as the other fed you a piece of Medovik. You made a noise of happiness that made Sasha grin. "They made it for dinner, and I knew those annoying doctors told the servants not to save some for you because they are morons."

The honey cake soothed your throat and warmed your aching chest, but it was Sasha's presence that made you feel better, not that you'd ever admit it after he ignored your wishes. He didn't ask questions about what happened, something you were very grateful for. You didn't want any more questions, you didn't want to think through the fog in your head. Once the plate was empty, he put a fresh wet cloth on your head and tucked the blankets around you again.

"I'll come back tomorrow, hmm?"

You nodded, not bothering to argue. Sasha always got what he wanted, and you didn't want to feel alone at night anymore.

Those weren't Sasha's steps.

You knew the sound of your siblings’ strides as well as you knew your own heartbeat, erratic as it was, and this one was slower. Heavier boots.

Quickly, you ducked beneath the blanket, but the tremble in your limbs betrayed you. Making you look like a shivering leaf in the wind.

Slowly, a hand peeled back your fortress, gentle but firm. No servant would dare, so your breath hitched as you finally got a good look at your visitor.

It was Pasha.

Pasha, who you've both longed for and was terrified to see.

His face was drawn, his expression lined with exhaustion and…hurt? You hardly recognized him like that. 

"So," he said quietly, "you are fine with Sasha visiting. But not me?"

The small crack in his voice struck deeper than it should have. It sounded so unlike the steady, unshakable Pasha you knew. The disbelief in his words cut you like shards of glass.

Your throat felt like it was closing up, swelling with a sharp pain as it lurched you into another fit. Worried, he stepped closer. But you stumbled back in fright, out of the reach of his outstretched hand as he tried to touch your forehead. His hand froze midair in shock.

You watched as his face crumbled, making your chest ache. You didn't mean to! You never, ever want Pasha to make that face again. You were about to apologize when his gaze turned cold, intense in a way you only saw after a big fight with Mama. His pale grey eyes searched your face for an explanation of what just happened.

"What did they do?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

"Huh?" You blinked.

"Those two," he clarified. “What did they do to you? Because it can't be a coincidence—" his voice faltered, "—not if you're looking at me like this. Not if you are this terrified of me."

"I'm not! I'm not terry—I'm not scared of Pasha!" You insisted, tears pricking behind your lids as you whimper weakly. You want to hide, you want to crawl under your bed or burrow away in some corner of the palace and never come out, but there was no way to hide from him now.

"Then why do you not wish to see me? Why do you not want me near you?" He asked helplessly.

"I do! I want—" You don't know what to say, your words tasted like the cotton in your dolls, scratching your throat as you tried to speak. So you settled on the truth. "I want Pasha, m-more than anything."

His jaw twitched, he looked as tense as one of the strings of your violin after your tutor turned the pegs. "Then why—"

"Because I don't want Pasha to think I'm disgusting!" You yelled, unable to hide it any longer. You didn't…spout out the truth as much as it got ripped from the pit of your lungs, and with it, another coughing fit, you whined before you held your chest, wheezing as you tried to calm down.

Immediately, Pasha gathered you in his arms and sat on your bed as everything blurred and distorted with the tears in your eyes. Once you were breathing steadier, you realized your head was on his chest, his hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back and all you wanted to do was cry even harder because you might lose this forever if he—

"You're okay," he reassured, planting a kiss on your head. "You're okay. Just take deep breaths for me."

Once you were calm enough, he started combing through your hair. He always…he always knew how to calm you when you were upset, and he seemed angry that he couldn't manage to do it so easily this time.

You hid your face in his arms, knowing the questioning was coming.

"I would never think you were disgusting."

He would. He would if he knew.

"What if I did something that made me disgusting?" You coughed into his chest. Hoping some blood will come out and save you, stain the white of his shirt like a tangible proof of your sin. But your illness never worked in your favor. "That's what h-he said. That I'm…d-disgusting. S-so Pasha will think so too."

Pasha only held you tighter, his voice sounded furious. "I won't," he insisted with such confidence that it made you irate because it wasn't true. You dug your fingers into his shirt in retaliation. Why was your brother so stupid when he didn't know anything!? "I will deal with that man myself, I will make him scrub the chimneys of the whole damned House with his tongue and make sure he never opens his mouth again. Whatever he said to make you believe otherwise is simply not true and will never be."

You clung to him, unable to argue anymore. You wanted to believe him, oh how badly you wanted to believe him. But the word kept echoing in your ears, whispered like a curse.

Disgusting.

Pasha rubbed your back again, his cheek resting gently atop your head. "You don't have to tell me everything, not right now," he murmured softly. His warm breath touched the skin of your forehead as he leaned down. "But you must know…whatever it is you think makes you… awful, or wrong, or…disgusting—it doesn't. You're my heart, you must know that? Nothing you feel could ever be wrong to me."

A fresh wave of tears fell from your eyes, hot and fast as you finally looked up at him properly. Blinding despite the pale glow of the candlelight. His eyes had dark shadows under them, but he looked beautiful. Always beautiful.

"You promise?" you whispered hoarsely, voice thick and cracking.

"I promise," he said, without hesitation. "On my name. On my soul. There is nothing in you that could change my mind."

Your chest tightened again, not from pain this time, but from the relief that started to melt all the dread that resided in you for the past few days. You let out a choked sob, and his thumbs moved to wipe your tears before they could fall past your cheeks.

"Y-you cannot change your mind later!" You hiccuped, and Pasha smiled as the situation moved into a more familiar territory. "I-if you do, I will never forgive you, I will—I will steal your horse from you!"

"Oh?" Pasha tilted his head, amusement breaking softly across his face as he shifted you slightly in his lap, keeping one arm around you as the other reached to wet the cloth to dab it gently on your brow. "Even though you will not be able to ride one for at least a few more years?"

"I will keep her in the stables then. Far, far away from you," you sniffled, managing a small pout.

He hummed thoughtfully, pretending to mull over your threat as he started rubbing your back in that practiced way that helped with your coughs. "Then I better keep my promise, I wouldn't wish to lose the horse I spent so long training. Anything else you would use against me as leverage, little tyrant?"

"'m thinking," you mumbled with a yawn, words slurring as the fight drained out like water through cupped hands, "thinking…"

"All right," he murmured, brushing the damp hair from your brow and giving it a kiss. "Take all the time you need. Plot all your little schemes. I'll be here."

You didn't answer, not with words at least. Only a soft content sound escaped your throat, half a hum, half a breath, as your fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his shirt and eventually stilled.

(dividers by bronzewasp)

[near-mint-condition]

Too Much Time AU Part 2

Part 1 | > Part 2 < | Part 3

And we're back!! I'm deviating from the game storylines more here because I want to focus more on... well, not that. ALSO: there is a point where the year is said - but I don't want to give exact dates. So you get the last part of them filled with X's to give any dates possible with a ~50-ish year gap :D

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Shadow and Sonic ran all the way to the place he called "home." It was quite far away from the facility. How did Sonic end up there in the first place? So many questions piling up, and not enough answers. He wasn't even sure if they'd be able to understand him.

It was a nice looking village, built in the forest with trees all around. Houses were scattered all around on the ground and in the trees, with walkways between them all. He could hardly believe his eyes. An entire community, just like this. Technology and nature, co-existing together.

Sonic chuckled. "Never seen a forest village before? Don't worry, I'm sure we can find a place for you to call your own, here. Oh- right! We never finished introductions. Are you able to talk?"

Shadow put a hand to his throat and shook his head, frowning.

"Hey, that's okay! Let's find my buddy Tails, he should have something for you to write on. His house is over here, c'mon!" Sonic walked him over to one of the bigger houses, the only one in sight with a giant metal door alongside the normal one. He knocked on the door. "Tails, you home? It's me!"

The door slammed open. An orange, two-tailed fox stood there with tears in his eyes. "Sonic, where have you been?! You said you'd only be gone for a couple of hours! It's been an entire week!"

Sonic wore a smile - the kind one might have if they were in trouble. "Hey, hey, buddy, I'm sorry! I kinda got caught up with a few things... but look, I'm here now, and I'm okay! I had some help from a new friend," he said, nodding at the new friend as he waved awkwardly. "I think it would've taken a lot longer if he wasn't there. Oh! Speaking of, do you have something to write on? I think he can't talk."

Tails sniffles, wiping his tears away. "O-oh, yeah I do. Come on in!" He waved them inside, and his house was massive. He could swear it was bigger than the outside looked like it could be. Tails handed him a pen and notepad, smiling somewhat sheepishly. "We should figure out something to help you communicate more easily in the future, but for now this should work! Go ahead and keep it, I've got plenty."

This got Sonic to rush over, from wherever he'd gone. Shadow didn't even notice until he came back. "Oh, oh! Can you tell us your name now?

Taking the notepad and pencil without another look, he wrote, “Shadow. Been gone long time. What year is it?”

Tails grimaces. This can't be good. Shadow wasn't there for that long, right? ..... right? Tails wrung his hands around one of his tails before nervously saying, "It's 20XX."

His expression instantly grew serious, his ears flattening. ..... 20XX? The last time he saw a calendar, it was 19XX. The weight of realization hit Shadow all at once, making him falter. Sonic was quick to catch him, and helped him over to the couch.

"Easy there, buddy. You alright? Need some water?"

Shadow didn't respond, holding his head with a hand.

"Sonic, I think we should give him some time to process this," Tails suggests, turning to Shadow. "Will you be okay on the couch for now?" Shadow gave a small nod. "Okay. Then we're gonna leave you here for a little bit. Sonic, I need you to come with me for a checkup."

"What? Me?! I'm fine!" Sonic protested.

Tails rolls his eyes. "You were gone for an entire week, Sonic. I just want to make sure that you don't have any underlying sicknesses or anything. And I need you to tell me what happened."

"Ugh, fine..." Sonic follows Tails into another room across the house, leaving Shadow on the couch to process.

In the other room...

Sonic sits on a chair, kicking his legs impatiently. "I hate this part."

Tails shakes his head, grabbing some instruments. "Well, it's important that I examine you. I know I'm not a doctor, but I can at least pick up enough to know if you need one. Now, what happened?"

Sonic kicked back and got comfortable while Tails did his thing. "Well... you know how I told you I saw some drones that seemed suspiciously Eggman-style? They weren't even trying to go towards our home, though. So I figured maybe he was going after something else, which, y'know... that would be bad if it was some powerful doomsday crystal or something. So I followed them. I guess I must've gotten ambushed though, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up underwater. Except it wasn't water. I could still breathe."

Tails stopped and cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I was in some weird glass-cylinder-thing. It was barely wide enough to hold me, and I couldn't get up any speed or momentum to break it. It felt super weird. But then Shadow showed up a couple days later and broke me out! And now we're here, so it's all good!" He gave a thumbs-up and smile.

Tails threw up his arms. "Sonic, they put you in a stasis tube! Gah, you're so lucky Shadow was there! Do you remember anything other than that and escaping?"

"Uhhh... I think I felt a tiny pain in my arm while I was out, but it was barely noticeable. Like someone pinching me." Sonic rubs his nose.

Tails' ears droop. "Sonic.... I'm gonna have to do a couple more invasive tests now. I need to know what they did to you, and since you don't know..." Tails rummages through his drawers and gets a needle and syringe, which gets Sonic standing up on the chair.

"Oh, no! I don't need that! I told you, buddy, I'm fine!" Sonic crosses his arms.

Tails sighs. "I just need to draw a little bit of blood to test. And I'll need a quill, too. Just... sit back down, and it'll be over before you know it. Look, I'll even get some chili dogs for you after." That did it. Sonic sat back down and stretched out his arm, still trembling a bit behind the hero facade.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Draw away!"

........

........

Tails placed the blood and quill in his machines for testing. "Alright, that's going to examine everything automatically, and it'll be about an hour before it's done. Want to check back in on Shadow?"

"Sure! I want to make sure he's doing okay. Race you there!" Sonic disappears in the blink of an eye, getting a groan out of Tails.

"Sonic.... You know I can't ever keep up with you when you go that fast!" Tails follows after Sonic, stopping short when he sees Sonic standing over the couch, holding a piece of paper. "Sonic?"

"He's... gone. I only found this note on the couch." Sonic shows Tails the note.

"Unfinished business. Back tomorrow. - Shadow"

Sonic and Tails share a worried look between themselves.

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Okay, why is writing so much more fun than I remember it being? I love color-coding things along the way too!

Mar 5, 2025: Updated some things about Shadow not being able to speak.