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roboyomo · 21 days

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I'm enabling you now go go go

UOU. SIGNAL UNDERSTOOD. Time for the big kenix and azrael rant under the cut!!!

So to start off, I'll briefly explain Azrael as a character since Kenix technically already had a brief character explanation

Azrael is also one of the "7 Deadly Sins" crew, just like Kenix, with his assigned sin being Envy.

For Azrael's case, Envy would be represented by his failures. Specifically failing his original protecting duties as a soldier in his past life, now envious of 'he' from his fantasies who has succeeded to protect others. The fact that he failed many times to live up to the version of him who has it all, driving him absolutely crazy. And as he does not have any idea how to deal with these feelings of anger and guilt, he only starts to blame everyone else around who had it better than him. Anyone who has managed to live up to their goals, being incredibly envious of them, to the point of purposefully ruining their lives. Ruining what they had so they could experience the same misery he felt this entire time, until it backfired and got him killed instead. (he is in misery but he doesn't want to be drowned in it alone, so he brings others down with him). He has failed himself by not meeting his own expectations, so the thought that there is a version of him out there that has succeeded to meet those same expectations and is now living better than before... makes him want to curse the entire world. Being extremely jealous of anyone who had the great success he wanted originally, now pouring out his misery as revenge on others, just to see them fall down the same way his entire world shattered in his eyes. The same misery now being turned into the poison inside his body, using it as a weapon against his enemy in the Afterlife. Now living as a cursed being that is forever bound to this insufferable nature, he tries to keep mostly to himself after becoming the 4th in line to join the sins crew. No roaming around the land with no end in sight, no contact, no relationships — only him and himself.

That is until Kenix himself has taken interest in Azrael. The interest was ever so the same as it was for the previous members of the crew. Attempting to get on semi-friendly terms with the others that are now just as miserable as him deep inside, since aggravating them would nothing good to both parties and he is aware of how fucked everything is for all of them combined, having the "false" feeling of empathy for them. But Azrael intrigued him the most because of how much he felt that their anguish was similar in a way. Both of their worlds were shattered and took it out on others because they didn't know how to deal with their problems in a healthy way, Azrael's case just got more extreme than Kenix's, who has only took it out on his surronding enviroment, which was very limited ever since he was young (and additionally taking it out on some of the Original timeline crew members/"The Warriors" after he was in the Afterlife). It was then when the suppressed desperation to feel something resurfaced. The wish to know what a connection between people is, the wish to have even someone by his side that would accept him as the awful person he is now. That desperation slipping through the the cracks of his facade of carelessness for others, having no feelings of remorse for his actions — he knows he can't go on for long without any sort of human interaction, that would only drive him more insane and worsen his state which would lead to his end sooner than expected. Not only is it because he knows that there is a higher risk chance if he will forever cut off everyone from his life, it is own wish to have someone finally accept him that has been born from the years of loneliness and isolation. He wants to, he 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 find some sort of companion for his own sake, something he never thought could happen because he truly believed that he would be better off without anyone. He doesn't think that he could ever become better, but the thought that someone, whose just as awful as he is, would accept him as this very same awful being, made him feel something that he has never experienced (Is it hope?? Is it the desperation for affection?? Not even Kenix knows that)

And that's when Azrael comes in. Nothing about Azrael said that the interest was mutual, but Kenix didn't stop attempting to engage in a first conversation with him. Azrael, due to his nature and the decision to distance himself from others, didn't feel like it. In fact, he also felt like Kenix shouldn't be trusted so there was this constant need to be cautious around him. Something about that attitude, that smile, the manner of speaking Kenix has,,, threw him off a few times to be honest. But when Azrael tried to confront Kenix head on about why the one kept trying to get closer to him, Kenix would only make up a shallow lie that Azrael's gradient hair looked interesting. He could 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 ever admit out loud that he desperately longed for someone who understood him, admitting to that would be a sign of showing weakness — and that is prohibited when Kenix's first desire was about being powerful and seem powerful. Additionally, it is not like he would ever take "my carefully built facade is slowly breaking day by day and my true feelings and desperate wishes for human companionship and physical affection have been shown to someone that I thought would finally be the one to help me get through this agony" well. he would probably spiral and worsen everything about his mental state and sanity even more and that means that he would meet his demise sooner. which is unwanted as he still wants to have a chance at life — not the best one, but a life at the very least.

It is where their relationships starts to build off from that point. Azrael slowly starts to show more trust towards Kenix and that made Kenix have this sense of hope, the hope that Azrael will become the one person Kenix wished to have by his side until the end of time. Kenix undeniably always has been fascinated by Azrael and with each interaction, the fascination for him grew only bigger. From Azrael acting annoyed at Kenix for being too bothersome to sincerely enjoying each other's company. Starting all those nice conversations between them about anything they share as interests until Azrael one day decided to hold Kenix's hand without realizing it himself. He pretty much realized it only by seeing Kenix's puzzled face. That is when he found out that Kenix has... almost no concept of what physical affection is shown through. No grasp on the idea of what hand holding is, or no idea about any other displays of affection. Finding out about just how isolated Kenix was that he has no idea about how it feels to be hugged or hug someone else was just shocking to him. Which made him start being curious about what various displays of affection Kenix has no idea about. and is it not surprising that he doesn't know about most of it. this man's past is probably the definition of loneliness and he never knew what it was like to be loved or show love to others so pretty obvious that this stuff will puzzle him as it is just this new thing for him even if he wished for it for a long time.

Azrael just holding his hand actually made Kenix crave that feeling more (because of incredibly touch starved this man is). It is "I never knew of this sensation but please stay with me like this for just a few more minutes I'll provide us with all the time in the world to allow us to just stay closer together for a longer while" kind of craving (at this point he is not able to hide just how badly he needed someone next to him at all times)

Now Azrael is just showing this guy with some serious unaddressed issues™ what it is like to be loved and Kenix tries to show love back with what is left of his heart. Usually successful but sometimes it is just gifting something made out of someone else. it is not fun to hear the screaming of thousands because you wear this ring he gifted you. They have still committed atrocities but now they are able to accidentally "fix" each other without realizing it

#kenix has so many issues that he hides behind a facade it is unreal #he wouldn't even know how to tell if he has romantic feelings for anyone he has never experienced any of this and is therefore #clueless. at least he got someone to help him now #i'd explain more about them but that is too much blocks of text in one post hopefully i can do a part 2 to this someday #anyways. please consider them i hold them very dear to my heart for over a year now #kenix MIGHT be experiencing something more than just fascination for azrael. just a thought though #kenix's heart doesn't have much capacity for love but he can do his best if he tries #his ability to love has been destroyed ever since childhood afterall. it will take a while to restore it back #azrael is patient enough to let kenix get more comfortable about sharing his past with him #yomo ocs?!#yomoart

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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years

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...

#i wish i could post some of my microscope and public outreach stuff here #like its annoying bc one of the sites nearby is extremely cool and iconic and i wanna gush abt it #but like also i don't wanna broadcast that hey i live near X location!#i guess i just gotta wait until i move #then ill be like yooooo this state park is rad as fuck and u should go there #and i dont kno if im allowed to share the mircoscope stuff bc its like im doing it for this project #and like its for public outreach but idk #i just wanna be like loook how cute and weird the cyanos are 😭#sigh... maybe someday #hopefully i can get my shit together and read some papers this weekend #but i got v little sleep last night so who knows #god! cyanos r so cool tho #unrelated

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selfshipping-haven · 17 days

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Waaauuuugh i hate not being to share what's wrong with meeeeeee

#and i'm fine sharing literally anyone else just not HIM #not my newlywed!!!#at least i ship to one specific version of him #hopefully someday i can work out my issues ;;

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niveussol · 8 months

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Chapter like, 50 in a Persona 5 fanfic that doesn't exist yet (but it's a scene I really liked, so I yearned to Post It)

A Past Forgotten; Fates Ungotten

Chapter (Like) 50:

Airi gathers the Phantom Thieves and tells them everything-- and brings Akechi down to see the rest of the team. Makoto is immediately suspicious, as is Joker, Ryuji, and Morgana. Airi bows deeply in front of the group, and asks them: “I know what I did wasn’t right. We never intended to damage him, or change his heart, or any of it-- but we learned too much, and now he’s going to do something terrible sooner than we can act--- unless we act now.” Futaba is the first, surprisingly, to agree. She says that “we can’t wait for some guy to learn nuclear launch codes and deploy them before we do anything. Or.. something.” Yusuke takes her side right away, saying, “it is better to act with Surety and good intent, than to falter and allow injustice and devastation to occur. Furthermore, I trust Airi with my life. She’s already saved it.”

Airi becomes emotional-- hearing it means a lot to her-- but she hides it. Instead, she asks to speak with Akira-- alone. They go upstairs. She makes sure to whisper so any potential ‘Futaba bugs’ don’t overhear. Morgana sneaks up and listens at the threshold, out of sight, of course, so he hears the full conversation go as follows:

“I’m going to attempt to change his heart, no matter what. I know the Phantom Thieves have to agree on their target. I understand that will make me an enemy of the Phantom Thieves. I know it’s wrong of me to decide that my path is right, and follow my ideals blindly, even if the team decides against my judgment-- but i cannot look away from what this man is capable of. He could end the world. I think he might. I won’t run from him. And… I know that it will be hard defeating him on my own. Akechi is powerful, but he’s still recovering from his time comatose, even today. He’s still relearning his strength. He may never be as strong, again. He’s a different man now. The two of us will probably fail, on our own.”

“However….. I cannot tell the rest of the team my plans. I don’t want them to feel pressured to enter the metaverse blindly just to keep me alive, to keep me safe. It would not be right of me to hold my life over their heads. And I’m not holding my life over your head either. It’s not your job to convince your team what’s right-- they already know. But you have a right to know what I’m planning. You’ve kept me alive, and safe, thus far. I owe you… I owe you so much. You, at least, deserve to know the truth.”

Akira doesn’t say much back-- he never really does. But he does say: “So… this is the path you’re choosing?”

Airi just nods and says… “yeah. This is my purpose. I’m the only one that can do what I do. I have to do this, even if it spells my end. Even if I’m. Even if I’m…. scared. Of dying in vain, and failing. I’ll still do it.”

“Well.” he says. “Looks like I know my path, too.”

One by one, the phantom thieves come to agree, all except for Makoto. “What if this is a trap, and we never knew Airi, really? What if her plan was this all along, to bait us into doing exactly the wrong thing?”

Akechi speaks up after that. “You’ve spent all this time with her, and yet you still don’t know her? I don’t know if you know who I am, but I am a murderer, a criminal, a liar, a traitor, even. I’m supposed to be a cold, heartless killer, according to this world. I thought I was. Despite everything though, I was shown that even a monster like me has a heart-- and she’s the one who made me see it.” he says it, and Airi can’t see him through her closed-tight eyes, but she knows he’s pointing to her. “SHE made me realize that I’m capable of doing good, by my own merit-- that I don’t have to have a reason. That I will never make up for my sins, but that I can still atone and right some wrongs in this world. She’s good as good gets-- Don’t distrust her because I made her swear to keep my operations a secret.”

“You can say whatever you want,” Makoto says. “But the truth is, none of us know who Airi truly is. And she has no problem doing things behind our backs-- like she did with pulling Akane into the metaverse. Like she did with her foray into Officer Mashime’s Hallowed Grounds-- like she did, every time she consorted with the wanted criminal known as Goro Akechi.”

“Makoto-- p-please… it’s okay,” Airi says, nearly squeaking the words out. “I understand. You’re right. I’ve done little to justify the trust I’ve gotten from the Phantom Thieves. I’ve kept secrets, even since our first meeting, where I pretended not to understand Morgana. You’re probably right to distrust me. If I were you, I don’t know if I could trust me, either. So… just. Say what must be said.”

Makoto takes a breath. “I reject the notion that we should change Aoi Konuta’s heart.”

“But, Mako-chan…” Haru states. “W-we have to be unanimous… if you don’t agree, then… we’ll lose our opportunity. We might allow something horrible to happen.”

“We’ve saved the world from gods three times,” Makoto states. “If something happens, we can fix it, like we always have. But I’m not walking into a trap with my friends without knowing half of what we can expect. I’m not going to let my friends get killed in a vague attempt to do ‘what’s right’. There’s a reason we have a code-- and it’s to keep us from faltering, from making a big mistake. We follow it, lest we lose our way. And I’m not losing my way or my friends, because I trusted someone that I should not have.”

Airi feels her heart nearly stop-- she realizes that she’s about to Waver, and stops it-- it’s painful to reverse that process, she finds. But, through her heart pain, through the pain of being spoken to like… like a villain. Airi just bows and says: “Thank you for being the voice of reason, Makoto. The Phantom Thieves are lucky to have you-- and, that’s not. That’s not sarcastic. I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

And, just like that, she takes off her apron, and walks to the door. She thinks there’s not much she can say, but figured it’d be rude to just leave without saying: “I’ll catch you guys later.”

She knows she can’t just enter the Hallowed Grounds today-- she still has to construct a calling card. She has to find a way to get it to him. She’ll figure it out. As long as it keeps her from thinking too much about the inevitability of her fate: she’ll do it.

She sidles out the door quickly.

Akira speaks up-- it’s not something he does often, but he does it: “Akechi. I’ve never heard you say something so sincere before. About anyone. You respect her more than anything, don’t you?”

Akechi scoffs. “She’s the strongest Phantom Thief of all of you. I’ve seen you all win every battle, despite less-than-stellar odds-- I’ve even seen you--” he points at Akira “--reign victorious, all on your own-- you all don’t lose.

“But the moment that she awakened for the first time, she was already dying. She’d been stabbed through the heart. She was alone. Anyone, ANYONE else would have died. But her? She was furious at the world. I saw a fury that could rend the world in two, if she saw fit-- she’d been betrayed by the forces that be-- she’d nearly been killed, killed by a demon. She could have awakened, killed him, and continued down a bitter path, filled with anger and strife-- she should have.

“But she didn’t. She didn’t because she was strong enough to fight for JUSTICE. TRUE JUSTICE. She was strong enough to be kind, even after suffering like she did. She was strong enough to win on her own. Alone. Without help, or aid. I could have helped her. I could have saved her before she was stabbed, had I bothered to-- but I didn’t, and she never held it against me, even though she should have. She’s strong enough to see reason, even when she’s hurting, even when her allies-- her friends--” he spits the word with venom, clearly pointing it to Makoto-- “are hurting, or even outright don’t believe in her. When her friends betray her unbreaking trust in them.

“She’s strong enough to face Konuta alone and kill him-- but she won’t take the easy way. She believes in living for what’s right more than she believes in her right to live. She’s better than all of you. Of course I respect her.”

The room is a little quiet-- Makoto’s face goes red, clearly emotional, conflicted, but trying to hold her ground.

Yusuke stands up.

“She had ample opportunity to sit down and live a quiet life in peace. She could have done it all this time-- but she sees the beauty in the world-- she knows she must preserve it at any cost.

“For some time, I had forgotten how it felt to defend the precious and delicate harmony of this world. I’d forgotten how to hold a brush-- what making a decision felt like. I grew cold. She assured me that I’d known all along-- that I could find that power again, even when my inaction had caused her to come to harm. I couldn’t see it, until I was confronted with two worlds: a world where I did not act, and lost everything; or a world in which I risked it all to stand for that which I believe in. To protect that which was most dear to me. I succeeded, and it’s only because she believed that I could. I came away with a perspective I never understood before-- and I will never forget it again.

“I must, therefore, ask that you reconsider your stance, Makoto. Reconsider throwing aside your inhibitions, and seek to protect that which is dear to you.”

Makoto avoids his powerful gaze.

Futaba speaks up.

“Airi… when Inari got really, really hurt in the Hallowed Grounds in Sapporo, I thought my heart was going to break in half. Inari threw himself in harm’s way, just so that I could be safe-- and then Airi stood between him and that mob boss, barely hanging on. She gave me the opportunity to pull him out of danger.

“When we got out of there, I felt all twisted up inside-- I felt so guilty that I’d allowed my.. my best friend to get hurt like that-- and still, she pulled me aside. And you know what she did? SHE apologized. SHE, the woman who had just saved us said sorry-- that if she had been stronger on the beach, had stood up to that creep, Inari would not have been confronted with such strong feelings of doubt.

“I cried that night-- I cried for hours and hours, I couldn’t stop crying. She held me and told me that everything would be okay-- that he would be awake, bright and early the next day. And she was right. He was awake before the sun came up, back to his old self again-- I wanted to cry again, but all I could do was smile. She helped me g-get rid of all my tears, so that I could show him, show everyone a brave smile. I trust her with everything I have in me.”

Makoto shuts her eyes-- she can’t take that gaze.

Surprising everyone, Shiho chimes in.

“When I met her, I was surprised she’d… she’d been assaulted by a man. Her demeanor was demure, and kind, and she didn’t look at men with fear. After what I went through at Shujin, it shocked me-- she took her pain in stride, everyday. It’s been years, and I still hurt. It’s hard to be brave in the face of that pain-- but seeing her thrive was inspiring to me. She reminded me of Ann. Her heart is strong.”

“Shiho…” Ann says.

“When the shooting happened in Sapporo, and we were caught in the middle of it, I saw her face-- I saw fear-- no, terror. But I saw it-- I saw her expression change. She buried that fear in calculations, looking at all of us. She calmed herself and told us to get under the table. Her hands were over her heart-- I almost thought she was having a heart attack, she looked so in pain. And then… time slowed down. We heard Morgana’s voice for the first time, as he leapt in to stop a cognition from attacking us. She’d saved us.

“If she hadn’t considered us, she could have slipped into the Hallowed Grounds by herself. She could have left us to die-- but she didn’t. And when she and Morgana were beaten by shadows, she told us to run. She was afraid. But she clearly cared about our safety and our lives above her own.

“Makoto-chan… I know we don’t know each other very well. And maybe we don’t know her very well, either. But, even with everything we don’t know about her, I do know this: She saved my life; Hifumi-chan’s life, and Akane-chan’s life that day. I know that I’m not obligated to trust her-- but I want to trust the woman who sacrificed her safety-- her life so that we might live.”

Akane speaks next. “Makoto… I don’t understand why you can’t trust her on this. You all hid Phantom Thief activity from the world-- my own dad hid it from me! My… big sisters kept the truth from me. To me, you were all doing things behind my back, but I didn’t mind it-- I know you all had good reasons for doing what you did. She’s a Phantom Thief-- she’s done so much good with you. So why… why can’t you trust her?”

“Akane-chan…” Makoto says. She opens her eyes, unfallen tears obscuring her view of everyone. “I didn’t want to tell everyone this, since these cases were unconfirmed.” She takes a deep breath, and exhales. “Sae’s been working on an investigation-- in fact, the catalyst for it was Airi, herself. Sae probably wanted to learn more about Airi’s interaction with Akechi, rather than anything else. She didn’t find many answers at first. But… a week later, another patient wound up at the same hospital Airi went to-- his skin, hair, and eyes had turned stark-white.”

Everybody looks surprised, and even Akechi’s dour look softens.

“He was comatose,” she continued. “But, Sae was able to speak with the patient’s wife. The wife couldn’t explain what had happened, just that, one morning, she woke up to find her husband had lost all his color, and couldn’t wake up.” Makoto pauses, trying to calm her heart. Speak a little slower. Take your time, she tells herself.

“Two months later, another man-- and a wealthy one, at that-- was sent to a hospital in Kabukicho with the same symptoms.”

“Where we changed the Hacker’s heart?!” Ryuji asks.

“Yes,” Makoto says. “Right after we changed his heart, in fact. His sister explained to Sae a story much like the first patient’s wife. But it doesn’t stop there-- two months after that, a man fell into the same pallor in Sumida-- the police officer who murdered Chiaki’s parents. Right after he’d been arrested.”

“M-Mako-chan…” Haru muttered. “You’re not suggesting that you think Airi-chan is responsible, are you?”

Futaba butts in, stammering, “Y-yeah, there’s no way that Airi did anything to those guys-- if anything, they’re just afflicted with the same thing!”

“But it’s strange how the events seemed to follow the changes of heart she took part in,” Akechi posited. “First in February, then April and June. Even so, it would be completely out of character for her to ruin anyone’s lives.”

“That’s how I saw it, too--” Makoto continued. “--when Sae explained all this to me. I thought to myself, ‘there’s no way that Airi was capable of doing this to people.’ But… in late-August, another person went pallid. In Sapporo. A previous mayor lost consciousness and fell into the same sort of coma the other patients experienced.”

Haru’s eyes go wide. “Y-you don’t mean--!”

“I do mean,” Makoto replied. “Headlines read, ‘Disgraced Ex-Mayor Mariko Hyodo Falls Into Mysterious Coma.’”

Haru’s eyes gloss over, and she looks at her phone, tapping away here and there on it. “No… no wonder Mari-san never answered my calls or texts after our vacation. She… she’s…”

Makoto places her hand on Haru’s shoulder, crouching down to hug her from the side. She knows how much Mariko Hyodo meant to Haru.

“I’m sorry Haru. I promise, if it turns out these events are connected to the metaverse-- like I think they are-- then we’ll figure out a way to restore them to their previous selves.”

“I’m sorry to cut in,” Yusuke cuts-in. “But is that all? Or is there something more to these cases you haven’t yet shared with us? So far, I remain unconvinced of Airi’s involvement.”

Makoto sighs, and releases her hold on Haru. “Two more patients cropped up. One in October, at Shujin Academy-- a student, in fact.” Everyone gasps, and Akane nearly shrieks. “And the most recent one was three days ago.”

“But, wait,” Ryuji says. “We haven’t changed any hearts this month.”

“Which begs the question-- who did?” Makoto asks, pointedly. Her gaze lands on Akechi, distrust mounting as her heart begins to beat faster. “Airi has been especially busy this month-- I hear she’s missed a lot of work, as well.”

Akechi doesn’t even blink at the attack-- he sighs, resisting the urge to ‘tut tut tut’ her logic, but settles on: “Correlation isn’t causation, Niijima-san. Simply because a Change of Heart preceded the other comatose incidents doesn’t mean they’re caused by them.”

Makoto decides she really, really does hate this man. “I know that. But it would be foolish to ignore the quantity of coincidences in all these cases. Furthermore, I know that you and Airi have been keeping in touch-- using pagers-- since at least August. Probably before that, too. If the two of you have kept in contact this long, then it’s highly possible you arranged times to carry out these plans.”

“And to what end?” Akechi asks. “What would Airi-san or I have against a husband, a brother, a child, and a disgraced mayor?” Haru trembles and chokes a sob at the insult. “The cop, I understand your suspicion, at least. He was a terrible person. And.. ah, my apologies. Who was the last comatose patient? You neglected to tell us, Niijima-san,” Akechi says, using his sickly-innocent detective prince demeanor.

She doesn’t answer right away.

In fact, tens of seconds go by, with all eyes on her.

Then, she realizes she can’t contain the emotions no matter what techniques she tries.

“It’s Sae. She’s turned bone-white and hasn’t woken up,” Makoto rasps.

Haru lets out another sob, then covers her face with a tissue, weeping softly into it. Futaba’s and Yusuke’s eyes go wide and they become extremely still. Akira looks at everyone else-- Ann, Shiho, Sophia, and Hifumi, looking at each other; Ryuji, Shinya, Atsuki and Zenkichi sit with their mouths agape, stares unwavering from Makoto. He notices the shock in Akechi’s face-- completely stunned silence.

It’s Akane that breaks it.

“WHY didn’t you tell me that Sae was in the hospital?!” Akane shouts. “My oldest sister was targeted and you didn’t bother to tell me that THAT is why she wasn’t home during Christmas?! NOW who’s keeping secrets from who?!”

“I wanted to tell you-- I wanted to tell you all. But Sae made me swear all of this information to secrecy while she was awake. I wanted to pick up the case where she left off. I wanted to have faith in Airi, believe that she would never do something like this to anyone-- but Sae shared all of this with me two months ago, when the Shujin student went comatose. She said, ‘If even one more person falls into a coma, I’m going to confront Airi about what she knows.’” Makoto huffs, trying to dispel the bitterness in her throat. “And then this happens.” Tears sneak past the corner of her eyes, and fall down her cheeks. She pulls Haru back into that side-hug embrace, trying to find any sort of comfort.

“Dude…” Ryuji says.

“Sae-san…” Akechi says. “Was she close to some sort of breakthrough, Niijima-san? Perhaps she made a powerful enemy.” Makoto opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off abruptly. “Someone besides Airi-san.”

“I… I don’t know,” Makoto rasps out. “The timing is alarming. It’s almost as if…”

“...as if it was planned,” Akira finishes. (as if it was a rush job/as if the culprit couldn’t wait for a better time)

Futaba shakes her head. “No, that can’t be right… no, no it’s not right at all!” she says. “The timing would be perfect, had we changed a heart already this month-- It’s December 27th. This is later than any change of heart we’ve done in a month.. this year, anyway. There could be multiple reasons why this time is different, but a definite possibility is that the culprit expected us to follow our pattern of changing hearts-- one change every two months, somewhere in the middle-- in fact, besides the target Airi told us about today, we haven’t planned any changes of hearts! A potential culprit would have had to choose someone without being able to find a perfect candidate in a perfect place to… albinize! Comatize? Comatize!”

“You’re right, Sakura-san,” Akechi says, a little surprised at her sound logic. “Whoever is responsible for these victims’ conditions-- if a person is indeed responsible-- chose the one person who cared about this case. There was no viable target. They chose a target of convenience, in lieu of a target that correlates with the others. It seems as though someone is rather intent on framing the Phantom Thieves, or at least Airi-san, in these attacks. Perhaps they wanted to sow distrust between her, and the other Phantom Thieves… but anyone doing something like that would have to know who the players are…”

Everyone looks at Akechi. “I appreciate the suspicion, but I meant it when I said I respect Airi more than anyone else in this shit reality. But… regardless, I actually have a suspect in mind. Or, at least, a connecting thread to all of this. But you’re not going to like it, Niijima-san.”

Makoto leers at Akechi through tear-swollen eyes. “You had better not conveniently pin it on your current target--”

“Ugh. Obviously that’s what he’s going to say,” Ann interrupts.

“For certain,” Sophia agrees.

“100%,” Futaba adds.

“No more interjections?” Akechi spits.

“Rule of three’s--” Futaba clarifies. “I’d say you’re good to go, Detective.”

He takes a breath in, then out. “I will explain, but it might take some time. To start: yes, it is our target, Aoi Konuta. But there’s a reason he’s our target. I asked her to take me into his Hallowed Ground, because my investigation halted when I hit upon his connection to the case.”

“Question,” Futaba asks. “What exactly were you investigating? I was joking about the whole ‘detective’ thing.”

“My survival, to be frank with you. When we confronted Doctor Maruki, I had already believed myself to be dead-- Doctor Maruki had even all-but-confirmed it. I’ve been searching for answers since I woke up-- and thanks to Airi-san, I finally found them. Most of the mystery has been cleared up for me.”

“So what happened, then? How did you survive our encounter in Shido’s Palace?” Akira asks softly.

Akechi turns so he can see Akira more directly. “In Konuta’s Hallowed Grounds, we stumbled across a memory of his. On the day that I should have died, Konuta heard a scream come from the Diet building’s boiler room.” He paused, unsure if the Phantom Thieves deserved to know-- but seeing Akira’s soft expression, all doubt melted away. “He opened the door to find me, bleeding profusely on the floor-- and beside me, a young woman clutching her heart. It appeared to be a heart attack. He arranged for us to be carried off, and taken somewhere he knew we would be off the grid. He told his secretary in that moment, that ‘he could learn everything he could about us, medically-- and perhaps he’d be able to mimic the power of metaverse traversal.’ He was in-the-know, after all,” Akechi clarified. “He was a strong supporter and ally to Shido, so he knew about me, specifically. But it was odd he mentioned the woman could travel between, as well.”

Akira’s eyes go wide, a reaction normally out-of-character for him. “You’re saying the woman in the memory was Airi,” he blurted. “He sent you two to that shady hospital. She was studied. The doctor learned something and forwarded that information to Konuta. And now Konuta’s abusing that power to frame her, now that she’s loose-- and Sae got too close to learning the truth of it all, so he had her eliminated from the game.”

Akechi smiles. “Finally, someone with common sense. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Hold on,” Makoto says. It’s not a request. Everyone turns and listens. “There’s one more piece of information I have for you, regarding the comatose patients. The final nail in the coffin. It’s what made me consider her to be… using us. Lying to us.

“...The first patient woke up four days ago,” she said. “Sis-- Sae-- was still awake. She questioned him right away, but the patient had no memory to speak of. The ONLY thing he could tell Sae was that the very last thing he remembered was seeing a woman dressed in white, with white hair and pale white skin. He told Sae that the woman pulled his heart out of his chest.”

“He remembers a woman pulling his heart out of his chest?” Zenkichi asks. “You kids don’t think that sounds awfully Jail-like-- like how Desires were taken-- do you?”

“It certainly sounds dire,” Yusuke replies.

“A woman who is entirely white? It does match her description.” Hifumi adds.

“--but I don’t think that means it’s her,” Futaba continues.

“Because this guy’s just setting her up…” Ryuji added. “...right?”

“I hope you mean Konuta and not the patient who just woke up from a nine-month coma,” Makoto warned.

Ryuji sputtered. “Bwuhh-- of COURSE I meant Konuta! He saw what Airi looked like in that boiler room several years ago, so he knows just how to fake her appearance and confuse the victims!” he says, proudly.

“Unfortunately, when Konuta saw Airi-san in the boiler room, she wasn’t painted white-- her skin took on a somewhat healthier, tanner-hue; her eyes were dark; and her hair was black as night. The only consistency in her appearance from then and now lies in her facial structure, her shape, and her ridiculously-long hair. I hate to say it, but he might have no idea what she looks like, today. The witness protection seems to have done her some good-- we didn’t find any sign he’d detected her current existence, while we were at his Hallowed Grounds.”

“He doesn’t know about her?” Ann asked. “But… if he knows about the metaverse, then he’s totally been keeping tabs on the changes of heart.. right? So how can he not suspect she’s a part of this?”

Akechi responds, “If I were to guess, it’s because he had never been made aware of the meta-nav. Without knowing about it, he’d have to assume the entry to the metaverse required a different sort of method. Perhaps he believed the Phantom Thieves were operating under their previous capabilities all this time. Maybe he wrote off the existence of the comatose girl once she was no-longer of any use to him. It’d make sense, considering he cut off Doctor Hashiba’s funding entirely right before he snapped.”

“Wait, I just realized something,” Sumire suddenly muttered. “We’re disproving the existence of a ‘culprit’ besides Airi-chan. That simply won’t do,” she finishes, plopping her cheek onto her fist, letting it support her head.

Akechi places his elbows on the table and props his chin on his hands. He expounds, “Konuta may or may not know about Airi, but that memory we saw of someone receiving heart surgery might suggest that he has someone working in the metaverse, now. That procedure to augment a heart with the power to Waver between was finalized by an associate of Konuta’s. It’s likely that he has at least one agent doing sinister work in the metaverse.”

“That’s a convenient fact Akechi, but I’d say the specificity of the recently-recovered coma patient is much better proof than your correlation,” says Makoto.

“Really?” Akechi asked. “A man with no other memory than the one that conveniently points the finger at Airi-san is hardly proof-- it’s unsubstantiated hearsay, and little else. The description is hardly specific, I’ll add-- it mentions white hair, clothes, and skin-- but if he’s talking about our Dove, he missed the most prominent detail.”

Makoto’s eyebrows shoot up. She responds: “Her mask.”

“Furthermore,” Akechi continues, smiling now, “there’s now an array of people turning pallid-- apparently, they’re waking up, as well. Who’s to say a previous patient isn’t infecting healthy people for their own benefit? Since we’re accusing Airi-san, anyway.”

Makoto closes her fists-- she doesn’t know if Airi can be trusted, but now there’s a reason for the Phantom Thieves to enter this politician’s Hallowed Grounds. Makoto breathes in and out. She speaks: “...You’re right. Sae would never have accepted such weak proof. She might have gone along with his story to learn more, but she doesn’t accept a statement as truth just because it fits the facts as she knows them-- she scrutinizes every detail. It appears the only way I’m going to learn more about this, and continue Sae’s investigation, is by gleaning whatever info we can from Konuta.”

Haru gasps, as does Futaba, Yusuke, Shiho, and Akane.

“Does this mean…?” Haru asks.

“Yes,” Makoto replies. “If everyone else is in: then I’m in, too.”

#this is probably Chapter 50 in a fic that doesn't have a chapter 1 yet #it's been bouncing in my head since I watched P5 Strikers through #I want to write this fic but so many things are distracting me and keeping me from getting started #With some time and motivation #I can write chapter 1 someday-- hopefully... soon.#i was really happy with the writing- so i still wanted to share it.#even if no one might see it #The scene is definitely subject to rewriting #if i ever happen to make it -- things must change with this scene #in terms of lore and flow #that sort of thing #anyway #Persona 5 #Persona 5 Strikers #Fanfic #fanfiction #post-canon #akechi lives #the oc has been selfishly shipped with akechi #i'm very sorry to the akeshuake believers but unfortunately #he DOES belong -- dearly-- to my personal blorbo #i hope you understand :)#WIP #chapter like 50 lmao (there is #again #no chapter 1)#my google doc of this fic has nearly 100 pages #between all my notes and all the scenes i've tentatively written out #36K words-- that's a lot for me :)

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pjsfvs · 4 months

Text

breeding kink hc - Mark Lee

paring : husband!mark x afab!reader

warnings/tags : very nsfw, mentions of pregnancy, oral sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluff, breeding kink, Mark going AT it

summary : mark will do whatever it takes to get you pregnant.

a/n : this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday on 1/27 but i posted the Sunoo hc instead. Also, if you have any requests, you can leave them in my inbox! and don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.

Having a child together was always something Mark and you knew would happen for you. Brushed lightly on the subject, you clearly remember the way Mark’s eyes would light up when you’d mentioned earlier in your relationship, that you wanted children.

Now, married in bliss with your second anniversary approaching, Mark had started to get a little impatient. You both knew you wanted to get pregnant eventually but hadn’t quite decided concretely exactly when just yet.

For Mark, a family always seemed a distant dream. However, when you’d walked into his life, he knew he wanted it with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, you used condoms during sex. It worked at the time, but eventually, after a conversation together, you decided you’d get yourself on birth control. Mark and you were pretty serious, had a solid foundation for your relationship and knew you wanted to be together for the rest of your lives,

And part of you wanted to take that step in your relationship; no matter how minor it may be. Sex was already something so intimate between you two, but to remove the barrier of a condom and really feel each other closer? It felt natural. Felt like something you trusted each other with.

Little did you know, that decision would spark a little something in your man…

For Mark, the first time you’d had sex using birth control, he swore he fell a little further for you [if it was even possible]. To know you trusted him to cum inside, that you weren’t scared, or fearful of anything going wrong meant so much to him.

Often during sex, he’d find himself thinking how much power his seed really had. On birth control, his cum buried deep inside your cunt meant nothing more than the mutual trust you two shared, a symbol of how deep your relationship had gotten.

But if you were off birth control? If the sex was unprotected?

Mark’s cum held great power. He could put a baby in you. Your baby, that you made with the embodiment of love your bodies yield to each other. The thought alone made Mark shiver each time, shuddering with a tingle of anticipation when he’d spill his hot loads inside you each night.

“Mark?” You’d asked one night, after a steamy quickie before bed. You rested your head on his bare chest as he heaves down from his high, a heavy palm rested to the bare skin of your exposed back.

“Yeah, baby?” He returns, kissing the top of your tousled hair softly. His palms are gently soothing over your bare hips, the same hips that would someday, hopefully carry the live of your child.

And that same night, the conversation happened. You’re both ready for a baby, you both want a baby with each other.

Mark is ecstatic, can’t wait to watch your pregnant belly grow as he showers his love on you, taking care of you each step of the way. Mark is already the perfect husband, and you best bet that it would heighten tenfold when you’re pregnant.

You have sex every single day now, sometimes multiple times a day. Sex with Mark was always fantastic, always had you practically on the verge of tears to how well he’d fuck you when he needed to, how well he’d make love to you when he needed to. If anyone knows how to strike the perfect balance, it’s Mark Lee.

“You gonna give me a baby, kitten?” Mark rasps, hastily pounding into your needy cunt from above. His biceps rest on either side of you and they look massive this way, a dark, almost primal darkness in his eyes on some nights like this. You’ve been trying for about a month now, and Mark is growing impatient. Part of him fears deep inside that as always, something will go wrong; deprive him from the life he wants with you. You make sure to assure him, however. Assure him that it’ll happen for you.

“Ye-yes baby, put a baby in me Mark…” You whimper, begging underneath him, soft legs tightly wrapped around his waist to give him optimal access to your deepest parts. Mark’s cock twitches inside you, and you know he’s close. Every single time, you shake and shudder to the feel of being pounded by him, the way his creamy, succulent cum fills up inside you to the brim.

It baffles you the amount of cum the man carries, how much he spills after each fuck. You can definitely feel him fill you up and it turns you on so fucking bad as you desperately pull him close, peppering needy kisses all over his face as he makes you cum as well.

“They say the more orgasms you have, the better the chances of getting pregnant.” Mark whispers, slowly delving between your drenched thighs. He licks a long stride up your aching pussy before circling sloppy, wet circles to your clit. You’re not sure if Mark’s theory is 100% accurate. Nonetheless, you know Mark thrives off making you feel good, he wants you to enjoy the process more than him. After all, you are the one who’s going to be carrying your baby for months on end, bearing all the pain and discomforts that come your way.

It does pull at your heartstrings how much Mark cares, how desperate he is fulfilling the deed of getting you pregnant.

If on your bed, before sex, Mark puts a pillow under your hips to angle them up slightly while he pumps in and out. “Can’t have any drip out,” He smirks, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as his throbbing cock stays positioned inside you, cocooned by your warm, pulsing walls after release.

Cockwarming has become almost a daily occurrence. After he’s came inside you, Mark keeps his girthy member inside your cunt for a couple of minutes as you both come down from your highs. He’ll rest his head in the haven of your breasts, arms wrapping around you as you pull him close, kissing his head to happy dreams of this wonderful, loving man fathering your children someday.

Mark insists that you have sex a couple times a day, and you fear he’ll eventually get sick of having you if you don’t slow down a little

“I’ll never get sick of you,” He whispers into your neck, softly kissing the skin as his arms hold you so dearly tight. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” You whisper, cupping his cheek. Mark is the sweetest man you know, and you best believe he’s only gotten sweeter since you’ve started trying.

Sometimes, when lounging next to each other, or when he’d come up behind you in a tender hug as you cook breakfast, Mark rests his hands on your belly; dreaming of how heartfelt it would be the day your baby would be in there,

“You’re gonna look so beautiful sweetheart, carrying our baby.” His deep baritone would soothe in your ears as he slams into you, your breasts bouncing to his pace as his hips snap into you hard, senselessly. His balls slam your core so hard each time, and the sounds of skin slapping skin fill the house very often nowadays. “Gonna show you off to the entire world,” He moans, cupping your breasts & kneading them with a firm force, yet cautious not to hurt you, as his mind drifts to the thought of how full they’d look, swollen holding milk

Mark and you have possibly tried every sex position there is at this point. Doggy style? Mark fucks into like a rabbit from behind, cock grinding your cervix to the deepest parts before slipping out entirely, only to plummet back in

Your legs on his shoulders as he fucks into you relentlessly? It’s one of his “trying to conceive” favourites, allows his sperm to take advantage of gravity

Face to face lying beside each other? Mark practically melts each time you do this one. The entry of his cock is so deep this way as you hold each other’s gazes, your leg draped over his waist as his arms pull you closer, rosy skin flushed together with a thin layer of sweat.

From behind as you lay on your stomach? Mark’s eyes roll to the back of his head in this one. He enters you from behind, pounding in as he grinds your g-spot repeatedly, almost always giving you two orgasms before he cums deep, deep inside.

Did I mention how loud Mark is when he cums

He moans, throaty groans fleeing his lips as he practically growls in your ear. The way you clench around him is too much, your pussy is too tight; too warm and he’s far too in love with your body (and all of you, ofc). Far too drunk on thoughts of pounding you pregnant for him.

Sometimes Mark can get so dirty while fucking you.

It surprises you sometimes that your sweet, loving, wholesome husband can say such sinful things

“Gonna make a baby come out of that tight little pussy.” He drips, biting small love marks into your skin as he thrusts, marking your body as his breeding ground.

I mean he is a literal assassin so you do get that he can be a bit brutal sometimes

He tracks your periods and the days you’re most fertile (not that it matters too much since he fucks you into oblivion each day haha) but on days where you’ve ovulating, he makes sure to go deeper, harder, and get in multiple rounds for optimal chances of conceiving.

Mark cumming inside is so special now. You can’t help but shiver each time you feel him explode deep within you, knowing that that load might be the one to do the trick.

You’re an advocating member of the “Make Mark a daddy 2024” campaign.

And when your period is late…you tell Mark with beaming eyes and swear you’d seen a glistening glow in that chocolate gaze, unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You buy multiple tests together, Mark's hand holding yours the entire time. The thought that your baby might be growing inside you, right now, this second as you stand at the checkout counter has his smiling like a goofy idiot.

Your goofy idiot, of course :)

You take the tests together in the master bathroom of your bedroom. Mark is on edge and you have to hold his hand to reassure him, explaining to him that if its only a false alarm, you’ll keep trying because you want this with him. You need this with him.

You want a family and it’s never going to change.

But when all the tests come back positive, Mark is on the brink of tears.

You both are, holding each other tighter than ever as you both cry into each other’s necks, kneeling in a bundle of cuddles on the bathroom floor. Mark kisses each inch of your face, peppers delicate kisses to your tousled hair, offering squeezes to your hand when you let out a soft sniffle at the sheer happiness.

This is a moment that will forever be engrained in your minds.

It was finally happening; you made a baby.

You’ve never seen Mark this happy before, feeling as if everything in his life has finally fallen into place. This is what all the pain, all the hurt, all the sin that lingers in the shadows of his past had been leading up to. A family with you, free of evil, free of any grim that lingers.

A life where the only Mark Lee that the world knows, is the Mark who loves and is loved by his wife, and the Mark who is a father.

The most loving, caring, amazing father he could ever be.

#౨ৎㅤ violet writes #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee #mark x reader #mark smut #mark fluff #husband!mark #౨ৎㅤ mark

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yuwuta · 2 months

Text

JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?”

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you.

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him.

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.”

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever.

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.”

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension.

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure.

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work.

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.”

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.”

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.”

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?”

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses.

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft.

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.”

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.”

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.”

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint.

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch.

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you.

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.”

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.”

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.”

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.”

“And park it where?”

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here.

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.”

“Yours will be towed by then.”

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.”

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.”

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?”

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea.

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat.

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—”

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?”

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.”

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!”

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people.

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights.

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.”

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice.

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room.

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be.

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madelynraemunson · 2 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

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pepprs · 2 years

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dear miss tess pepprs there are some aspects of your poetry that i still remember (word choices, rhythms and rhymes that are so Distinct that i still roll them around in my mind like marbles) and i think thats what poetry is all about having someones words smooth the corners of a bad day <3<3<3 thank you so much for writing and sharing all the works you did and if there's ever a chance in the future i would love to read more of your poetry <3<3<3 i hope you find peace and love and love and love and love and that things look up for you soon! you are a sunglimmer and this may be a lonely night but the moon who loves your shine keeps you company and with you in its hands gives you over to the sun a star who recognizes a star who wishes to keep you warm <3<3<3

DEAR ANON!!!!!!!!! IT’S YOU HI HI HIIIIIII THANK U SO MUCH I MISSED U!!!!!!!! ur messages are so sweet and twinkly like windchimes i am so glad u exist and i cherish every single one of ur these that u send me!!! i hope u are doing well mwah 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#dear anon #also uhmmmmm i am SO floored and honored by what u said abt my poetry and inspired by what u said abt poetry overall omg.. ‘poetry is abt h #having someones words smooth the corners of a bad day’ do u know how PROFOUND that is. im gonna write that in my sketchbook (which i started #drawing in again finally bc im regaining my shape like a sponge after someone squeezes it too hard LOL) so i can look at it always 🥰 ily!!!!#and i hope u find (and currently have) peace and love and love and love as well! 💓💓💓#purrs #asks #happy #ALSO ok yes i might start sharing poetry again someday maybe… i don’t want to force u to reveal urself dear anon but if u ever want to i can #send u stuff if u are interested! i haven’t written anything in months and didn’t do napowrimo for the first time ever this yr but hopefully #that will be next on my list of regaining my shape and i hope you’re regaining yours too!! 💕

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hellodarling1357 · 5 months

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Can i ask for Cassian x reader fic where the reader becomes friends with Bryaxis?👀

Like someday she decides to go down to the lower part of the library and meet the monster everyone is so afraid of... and finds Bryaxis, silly guy who just wants some friend to talk to. And the reader begins to visit him from time to time, chatting nicely and just having a good time

And poor Cassian so stressed out with these two😮‍💨

Friend and Foe

Hello!! Thank you for sending me this request, it was so much fun to write!! Sorry it took me so long but hopefully the Domestic Cassian makes up for it, we love a man who can cook 🥹

Bryaxis really is just a silly, goofy guy

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 3.1k

After being mated for all of two months, Cassian had basically begged you to move into the House of Wind with him. It really hadn’t taken much convincing, especially after Rhysand had ensured you that you wouldn’t be imposing.

So the very next day, your belongings were all packed, Rhys using his magic to move them for you, and Cassian was helping you do a final sweep over your old apartment, barely containing his excitement as he reassured you, yet again, that everything was sorted.

“Okay, I think I’m good. Ready to go?” You asked with a final glance around the room.

Cassian, who had given up on trying to convince you to stop fussing and had instead decided to sit on the floor by the window, jumped up with a broad grin stretched across his face.

“About time.” He teased, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, your forehead, then your nose, before wrapping an arm around your waist as he led you outside.

As soon as you had locked the door behind you, Cassian was scooping you into his arms and leaping into the sky, flying you towards your new home.

*****

You had been to the House of Wind multiple times, but this time felt different; you weren’t going there to visit Cassian, you were going there to live with him, to start your life with him.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, pressing kisses along it as he tightened his grip on you, quickly approaching the balcony that jutted out of the mountain.

Upon landing, you prepared yourself for Cassian to place you back on your feet. Instead, he shot you another wide grin and walked towards the balcony doors with you still in his arms, not letting you down until you had crossed the threshold.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He softly said before pulling you in for a kiss.

You smiled against his lips, realisation finally hitting that this would be your everyday from now on, the thought causing you to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him further down to you.

“Now, please remember,” Rhysand’s voice drawled, “this is still a shared space.”

You broke away from your mate, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, but Cassian simply looked annoyed at the interruption.

Giving him a sheepish smile you, for the hundredth time, thanked Rhys for letting you move in.

“Don’t mention it, it’ll be good to have you around.” He brushed off as Azriel entered the room.

“Especially if it means we no longer have to listen to Cassian complaining about how much he misses you, how far away you are, how—” But the Shadowsinger was cut off by Cassian throwing a book at his head and shooting him a glare.

You grinned at them all and laughed alongside Rhys, surprised at how quickly you had grown comfortable around Cassian’s brothers after only really meeting them a few weeks ago.

“Anyway,” Rhys interrupted, picking up on the taunt that was seconds from escaping Azriel’s lips, “We were just heading off. Figured we’d give you the night to…settle in”

With a wink at you and a teasing ruffle of Cassian’s hair, the two males made their way out towards the balcony before flapping their wings and heading towards Velaris.

“So…” Cassian started, eyeing you with an intensity that you had first seen after accepting the bond. “Where should we start?”

You knew he wasn’t talking about unpacking.

*****

It had been three months since you had moved into the House of Wind. Cassian had made space in his room for all of your belongings and the two of you had set out redecorating it together to make a space of your own.

You had fallen into a routine, not just with Cassian, but with Azriel as well.

Your mate had decided to take it upon himself to set up a training and defence program for you. But, when he first caught sight of you in your skintight Illyrian leathers, he had quickly decided it wouldn’t be the most productive use of your time and had handed the task over to Azriel instead; although, not before muttering to keep your leathers on for later, with a wink and a pat on your ass as he sauntered back inside.

You had also grown a lot closer to the rest of the Inner Circle, finding that there was always someone floating around if Cassian was away.

Now, however, you slumped into one of the plump armchairs and let out a sigh. Cassian and Azriel were both away checking in on the Illyrian war camps, Mor and Rhys were at the Hewn City, and Amren… you weren’t entirely comfortable spending time alone with her just yet.

Deciding you couldn’t spend another day aimlessly roaming around the house, you made your way towards the library that was built into the mountain.

You had dragged Cassian there after first moving in, spending hours marvelling at all of the books whilst your mate trailed after you, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else. You, however, happily let him follow along, handing him book after book to carry for you with a cheeky grin that he couldn’t say no to.

This visit, however, had you wanting to explore the deeper parts of the library, with a sudden desire to browse through some of the ancient texts that you hadn’t had the chance to peruse yet.

The further down you went, the more intrigued you were by the seemingly never ending darkness that spiraled into the depths of the library.

Whether it was out of boredom or pure curiosity, you pulled one of the swinging lanterns from the wall and let it guide you through the inky black space, the lights from further up growing smaller and smaller with every step, the shelves of books coated in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.

Despite the silence and the darkness of the unknown space, you felt at ease as you reached, what you could only assume to be, the bottom of the black pit.

Edging further into the space, the light coming from your lantern begun to flicker and you tensed at the sudden rustle of movement from behind you.

“Hello?” You cautiously called out, stretching the lantern further out to illuminate more of the room. Straining your ears, you listened closely for the slightest sound of movement, instead, however, a small cluttering sound bounced across the floor and ended by your feet.

Looking down you saw the small stone that had been thrown from the darkest corner of the space. Not quite knowing what to do, you slowly leant down to pick it up, turning it over in your hands a few times as you squinted into the darkness.

There was another quiet rustling noise and then another stone came into view, stopping where the other one had landed.

You picked this one up as well, your expression a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. With a quiet laugh to yourself, you gracefully threw the first stone back into the corner, watching it bounce across the floor before disappearing into the darkness.

A pleased sounding gasp of excitement filled the space around you and then the stone was bouncing back towards you in a hurried manner. You were smiling now, throwing both stones back and waiting with anticipation before they were sent your way again.

Still feeling unsure about playing this game with a creature shadowed by darkness, but not being one to question the weirdness that seemed to live within the Night Court, you sat cross legged on the ground and continued to bounce the stones back and forth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You said into the darkness, feeling somewhat silly and not expecting the reply that followed.

“I know. I’m Bryaxis.” The chilling voice of the darkness replied.

*****

After that initial trip to the pit of the library, you found yourself heading down there at least once a week. You continued your game of throwing the stones back and forth but as the visits built up you found yourself asking questions about the creature and, in return, he provided you with a deep insight into the long forgotten histories of the world.

Walking back into the House of Wind after one of your library trips, you were surprised to find Cassian in the kitchen surrounded by numerous pots and pans and piles of food.

“Hi,” You greeted excitedly, leaning up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re back? I thought you wouldn’t be home for another few days. And you’re cooking?”

Hand still holding a wooden spoon, Cassian turned to face you, his other hand cupping your cheek as he lent down for a kiss.

“Hi,” He said against your lips. “Az took over for me,” Another kiss as he backed you against the counter. “Thought I would surprise you.”

You hummed against him, content in letting him wrap his free arm around your waist as he hoisted you onto the kitchen bench, legs coming up to wrap around his waist as you deepened the kiss and knotted your hands through his hair.

A sudden hissing sound had Cassian jumping back and turning in horror as the pot of boiling water started to splatter out across the stove.

“Where were you, anyway? You weren’t here when I got back.”

Content to have your mate beside you again, you absentmindedly swung your feet as you helped yourself to the pile of cut carrots he had set aside.

“Down in the library.” You answered between mouthfuls.

“Oh?”

You dipped the carrot into the bowl of a sauce looking substance, deciding you liked it and going back for seconds. Cassian, noticing this, flicked your nose and moved the sauce out of reach.

“That’s for later.”

You poked your tongue out as you jumped off the bench and moved to stand next to him as he stirred the still sizzling pot.

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird. A few weeks ago when you were away I got bored and wanted to explore the library a bit more,” Cassian turned his back so you helped yourself to whatever was simmering on the stove, earning your nose another flick and a sound of mock outrage from your mate.

“Anyway,” You continued as you lent against the bench, content in watching him cool for you. “I got right down to the bottom of the pit and met this creature,” You weren’t really sure how to describe your newfound friend, you had never actually seen his true form. “And we’ve sort of become friends, I guess?”

You laughed at the silliness of how it sounded, not noticing how Cassian tensed. “You never mentioned anyone else living in the library, his name is—“

“Bryaxis.” Cassian interjected, looking at you with an expression of horror and concern.

“Yes, that’s him” You said excitedly, still missing your mate’s distress.

“Y/N,” Cassian took your hands in his trembling ones and looked over you as though checking for any signs of harm. “Please tell me you’re joking. Did Rhys set you up?”

You stared back, surprised by his response, “Cass? What’s wrong?” But he didn’t seem to hear you.

“Have you seen him? Are you hurt? Y/N, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m fine? And no, he always stays in the dark. Why are you freaking out?”

But Cassian couldn’t answer, simply pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face in your hair.

“Promise me you won’t go back.”

“Love, you’re starting to scare me—“

“Y/N, I need you to swear it to me. I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on…” He trailed off, the haunted gleam still present in his eyes.

You were stunned by his reaction, not once had you seen Cassian acting so spooked. Sure, he tended to get a bit possessive around other males but this was entirely different, he seemed completely and utterly fearful of the thought of you being in Bryaxis’ presence.

“What happened? He’s never done anything to cause me harm. We just sit and talk and throw stones back and forth… Is there a reason he’s down there?” Maybe you had missed something, and Bryaxis was, in fact, some sort of monster.

Cassian pulled back, still somewhat wary but you could feel the tension leave his body.

“No, he’s always just been there. I had… an encounter with him, years ago—“

“Did he do something to you?” You cut in with concern.

“No, but… You said you haven’t seen him?”

You shook your head, still at a loss for what had brought all of this on.

“Good. Good,” Cassian muttered to himself now, turning back to finish dinner. You silently got some plates out for him to serve up and opened a bottle of wine, still watching your mate from the corner of your eye.

*****

You were both sat at the table but Cassian couldn’t seem to bring himself to eat, merely pushing his food around on his plate.

With a sigh, he looked up at you, “Y/N, you know I’d never usually ask this of you, and be so…,” He trailed off, swirling his wine before taking a sip. “Please, I really don’t want you going back down there.”

Now it was your turn to sigh, putting your fork down as you reached out to grasp his hand.

“How about this, you come down there with me—,” Cassian started to interject but you gave him a warning look to let you finish. “You come down there with me. You can see that he’s not this monster you seem to think he is, and if not, then we’ll talk about it. But I’m not just going to stop visiting, as weird as it sounds, he’s my friend.”

Cassian knew there would be no changing your mind on this, so with a grimace of a smile he reluctantly agreed, sighing at the beam of a smile that lit up your face.

*****

It had taken weeks to get Cassian back into the library, and not for a lack of trying on your part. Whenever you were both not doing anything, you would suggest heading down there. And every time you did, Cassian would suddenly have something he needed to do, or would mercilessly distract you and leave the library as a long forgotten thought in your mind.

This time was going to be different, you refused to let him weasel out of it again.

“Love, what’re you doing right now?” You innocently asked as you sat yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” You expected as much, especially when he lent in and trailed lingering kisses along your neck.

“Good,” You stood up, pulling him with you. “Come with me.”

Your conspiratorial grin had Cassian thinking your mind was on something else, so he eagerly followed after you, pausing when you walked in the opposite direction of your bedroom.

“Sweetheart…?” You just walked back to him, holding his hand and dragging him alongside you.

Once you got to the library entrance, it finally clicked what you were doing.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Cassian.” You said but he was slowly taking backwards steps away from the library door.

“I just remembered, Rhys needed me to—“

“No he doesn’t. I already checked.”

The frantic panic in his eyes had you almost feeling bad about deceiving him. Almost being the key word.

“Cassian,” The commanding tone of your voice had him stopping in his tracks. “If you don’t come down there with me, right now, then there’s no more sex.”

He gave you an unconvinced look, clearly thinking he was calling your bluff.

“I’m serious. This has gone on long enough. No more sex until you go down there. In fact, I’m staying at the town house until it’s done.”

Cassian stared you down with a torn expression of frustration and disbelief. You stared right back, letting out a sigh of relief as you watched determination spread over his face.

“Fine,” He was a man on a mission, marching towards the library and grabbing your hand in his as he walked by to keep you at his side. “Let’s get this over with.”

*****

You didn’t even try to stop your delighted grin as you headed down into the deepest depths of the library.

As the lights flickered and as darkness started to surround you both, you felt Cassian beginning to tense and slow his pace. Refusing to let him change his mind, you sent a wave of emotions down the bond that told him exactly what he would be missing if he bailed on you now. Cassian squeezed your hand in response, his steps picking up as you reached the bottom of the pit.

“Bryaxis?” You called out, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles over Cassian’s hand when you felt him tense up beside you.

There was movement to your left and then the lamp you had brought down with you flickered out. You could feel something curling around you, flicking your hair in a playful manner, causing you to smile. This was going to be fine.

You turned to Cassian to tell him as such, but the chilling voice that you had since grown accustomed to spoke up in a rasp.

“I didn’t think I would be seeing you again. Not after last time, Lord of Bloodshed.”

You sensed, more than saw, your friend move around your mate and that seemed to be too much for Cassian.

“No. No, Y/N, we’re done here.” And then he was holding onto your hand as though his life depended on it and bolted back towards the stairs.

Your confused laugh sounded out and was met by the amused laugh of Bryaxis swirling through the darkness.

“I’ll see you soon, friend.” His voice followed after you, all traces of the harrowing rasp he had used on Cassian was replaced by a genuine fondness.

“I won’t bring him next time,” You replied in farewell, gesturing towards your mate who was frantically trying to drag you away.

Cassian let out a groan. He knew there was nothing he could do to convince you to never come back down here. You gave his hand a reassuring pat, sending a wave of gratitude and love down the bond. You didn’t know what had happened between Cassian and Bryaxis during their last encounter, but at least your mate had tried to face him for you.

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

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theabigailthorn · 6 months

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As much as I love your current stuff, I've never been able to watch anything from you pre-transition. Im sure you're okay with it, thats why theyre still up, but I almost feel like im disrespecting you if I watch them?? Maybe I'll get over it someday, hopefully

I genuinely don't mind, so long as you don't share images of it where I can see them. I made them as educational resources, a lot of them still hold up on that basis. Some people might watch only one and then never see anything else I make again, and that's valid. Some people might check out the channel and be like, "Oh! She transitioned!" which is kindof cool too, like - that's a thing people can do lol

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miracleonice87 · 9 months

Text

the camp letter

a/n: the requested note (which turned into more of a letter — I’m a writer, what did you expect?) written by Mrs. Kelce, from “new heights, new news, new baby.” enjoy!

___

“NHL tournament kicks off in my room in ten, big fella!” Isiah Pacheco called through the door after a few raps of his knuckle.

Travis smiled to himself, pushing his now-empty unpacked duffle into the dorm closet and clucking his tongue.

“You know I ain’t missin’ that, son!” Travis assured. “Be right there.”

As Isiah’s footsteps retreated down the hall, Travis grabbed the last piece of luggage on his bed, his toiletry kit, and walked it into the bathroom to hang up. Upon opening the flap, a piece of white notebook paper fell to the counter, folded so only the top of the page was visible.

Open when you get to camp! it read in your unmistakable penmanship. With an enamored grin, Travis quickly lifted and unfolded the page.

87,

the salutation read.

At that simple greeting, his throat tightened with emotion.

Oh boy… he was in for it.

He wandered to take a seat on the bed as he continued.

With another Super Bowl celebration summer coming to a close, another season is now on the horizon and it just might be the most special one yet.

I remember the first time you invited me to Chiefs camp when we had just started dating, watching all your teammates’ kids run to them after practice, watching them chase after footballs, watching their dads throw them up in the air and tote them around so proudly, and I remember thinking, “I hope that’s gonna be Travis someday with our own kids.” Sure, that happened just a little sooner than we planned, but with each day that passes, I only grow more excited to share this with you, and to make those football-centric memories with our little one, and hopefully more little ones to come.

I can’t wait to hold our baby in the stands and explain to them what you do for a living, Trav. I can’t wait to see how excited they get waiting for you on the sideline for a pregame kiss, then watching you ball out. I can’t wait to watch them meet you in the tunnel or the suite after a game, win or lose, and love on you like I do. I can’t wait to see them run around Arrowhead with Sterling and Bronze, and, as much as possible, take them to games with Wy, Ell, and Benny, watching them spend time together and clap for their daddies.

When I close my eyes, I can so vividly see another Super Bowl win, finding you in the midst of another red and gold confetti snowglobe, but this time, with our kid in my arms. I can envision you on the podium with Coach Reid and Patrick, a Lombardi in one arm and a baby in the other. And as much as I already miss you, despite you still being just a couple of rooms away as I write this, we both know that camp is the first step toward making that happen.

We are so lucky to get to do this at all, Trav, but I feel impossibly lucky to get to do this with you. Thank you for being the man that you are – I can’t tell you how much I admire your drive, your passion, your work ethic. You are the best teammate, captain, leader, friend, husband, brother, son, and daddy-to-be that I’ve ever known, and I know you’ll instill your best qualities in our little one.

I love you so fucking bad, Travis Michael. Have fun, be safe… go be great. See you soon.

Silent tears were dripping down Travis’s cheeks and nose as he finished the letter, a fond smile permanent on his lips. God, he was the lucky one, to get to be able to play this silly game he loved so much with your full support backing him. And the thought of you and your baby cheering him on, together, in just a few more months… man, that made him actually giddy, despite the tears he was still trying to get under control.

A moment later, the only person who would ever push open the door to his room unannounced did just that — his quarterback and best friend entered with a casual “you comin’ to play Chel, you hockey freak?” before his eyes actually landed on Travis. Patrick was fearful for just a moment, seeing his friend so emotional, then the tight end met his gaze and held up the piece of notebook paper covered in your neat writing.

Travis cleared his throat and announced, “Letter from home. Got me.”

Patrick smiled, taking a few steps toward him to squeeze his shoulder.

“I gotchu,” he said understandingly. “All good, though?”

Travis nodded emphatically, beaming even as he wiped his watery eyes with the flesh of his thumb.

“So good,” he assured the fellow dad.

Patrick nodded, too, and pawed Travis’s arm affectionately.

“Glad to hear it. Take all the time you need, man,” he directed. “I’ll go take the first round with the hooligans.”

Travis giggled and reached to dap up Patrick, the quarterback giving him a warm hug.

“Thanks, brother,” he said softly.

As Patrick left the room, Travis gave the letter one last brief read, then pulled out his phone, screen lighting up to display his lock background — you from the back in an 87 jacket after this most recent Super Bowl, being hoisted in his arms the very moment you found each other on the field. Smirking proudly at the memory, he unlocked the phone and opened his text thread with you.

Just read your letter, you sneaky lil thing, he tapped. My god, you know how to make a 6’5” NFLer weep like a baby! Thank you for writing it, sweetness. I love you so much. Less than four days now until I hug you and baby Kelce again 😍🤰🏻 Tell Mama I said hi and I love her! Call you later 😘

With that, he hit send, took a deep breath, tucked the letter into an empty drawer for safekeeping, and headed toward Isiah’s room — which was already echoing with his teammates’ raucous cheers and jeers — all while wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve a life so damn sweet.

#kissing kelce #the camp letter #travis kelce #my writing

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onlyfreds · 1 year

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Someday | E.M.

Title: Someday

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: A girl and an original, sounds like a fantasy, but nothing is impossible when it comes to love.

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I posted a fic, so hopefully this is half as decent as I hope it is and you guys like it

The story of a girl and her vampire: if any outsider were to hear the story, it would sound crazy, almost like some sort of fantasy.

Shutting the door of the taxi, you stepped out into the cobblestone streets and took a deep breath.

“Finally.” You thought, having achieved your lifelong dream of moving to New Orleans.

Lugging your suitcase behind you, you searched for the address of the place you’d be staying at.

–

“And here is your room.” Cami, a friend from high school who’d you be staying with gestured to the guest room next to her own room.

“Thanks Cami. You’re the best!” You smiled, proceeding to give the girl a hug, “I promise I’ll move out the minute I find a more affordable apartment.”

She laughed, “Nonsense, stay here as long as you like. Anyway, I have to go back to my shift at the bar now but when I close up, we can definitely go out for dinner.”

“Sounds great! I can also help out at the bar if you want.” You offered.

“Stop.” The blonde grinned, “You are my guest and you will do no such thing. Now go and unpack.”

“Fine. Fine.” You gave in with a playful eye roll.

–

“Does this place do deliveries? I don’t think I want to eat anywhere else ever again.” You took a sip of water making Cami laugh.

“I’m pretty sure they do.” She said as the waiter dropped off the bill.

While Cami was searching for her wallet in her bag, you pulled out some cash and hurriedly gave it to the waiter, “Take it before she finds hers.”

Realizing what had just happened, Cami gave you a pointed look, “Y/N.”

“Cami.” You mirrored her tone, giving her the same look, “It’s on me, I swear.”

“But-” She tried to protest.

“Shh.” You interrupted, “You’re already practically giving me a place to stay, provided that I pay for my share for the water and electricity bills. Ever since I have arrived, you have been nothing but incredibly generous to me. Let me do this.”

“Fine.” Cami gave in with a roll of her eyes, “But when you go to the bar, drinks are on me.”

This made you smile, “Now who am I to turn down free drinks?”

–

“Who are the Mikaelsons?” You asked after Cami had told you that you should come along to a party they were hosting that night.

“They’re the most influential family in Orleans.” She said, ruffling through her closet in search of something to wear, “The Mikaelsons are practically like royalty.”

You raised a brow in question, “So, they’re pretentious?”

“Not all of them.” Cami smiled, “Klaus is a little though, but the rest of them aren’t so.”

Laughing, you said, “Can’t wait to meet them. I don’t have a dress though.”

“There’s a boutique down the corner.” Cami said, “When can go take a look there if you want.”

–

Cami sure wasn’t joking when she said that the Mikaelsons were like royalty.

The compound you and Cami had just walked into was majestic and almost mansion-like. The lights that decorated the walls just seemed to make the place even bigger.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Cami said, noticing how awestruck and speechless you were.

“First thought that came into my mind was ‘you’re joking’. But, after seeing this, I think it's not entirely impossible.” You said.

“Camille! Glad to see you could make it.” A deep and husky voice boomed from the corridor as the owner approached the two of you.

“Klaus.” Your friend smiled, “Nice to see you too.”

“I see you’ve also brought a friend.” The man, or rather Klaus, mused before turning to you, “I’m sure that I’ve already been introduced by my entrance, so, may I know your name?”

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled.

“Niklaus.” A man in a suit came up next to Klaus, almost appearing out of thin air, “Are you causing someone an inconvenience again?”

Klaus dramatically gasped, now turning his attention to the man next to him, “I’m offended at how you think I bother everyone.”

“That seems to be the case, sometimes.” The man nods to Cami, “Camille.”

He then turns to you, a small smile growing on his handsome face while he reaches for your hand and brushes his lips against your knuckles, “And may I be able to put a name to that beautiful face?”

Giggling, you could feel the butterflies starting to stir, “I’m Y/N and you are?”

“Elijah.” He answered.

“So, Y/N. May I have this dance?” Elijah asked, offering a hand to you.

Glancing over at Cami, she gave a nod along with a subtle wink.

“I would love to.” You grinned, taking his hand and he led you away from your friend.

That was where it all started, with two lonely hearts beating in the dark.

–

“Your company has been the best I’ve had in a while.” Elijah smiled as the two of you stopped in front of Cami’s house. Cami had disappeared with Klaus leaving you to fend for yourself.

“Glad to have been of service then.” You laughed.

“Hopefully, this isn’t the last time I’ll be catching any sight of your captivating presence.” He said.

“I assure you, Elijah, you won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” You smiled.

The gentleman smiled as well, kissing along your knuckles the same way when you had first met earlier, “I’ll be counting on that.”

–

“I’m home!” It’s been a month since your arrival to New Orleans, finally having signed a lease for your own apartment, the only downside was the fact that you couldn’t move there for another month.

“So, how was your date?” Cami came into the living room as you were kicking off your shoes.

Rolling your eyes at her teasing, you retorted, “Cami, how many times do I have to tell you that it's’ not a date. Elijah and I just went to watch theater like friends do.”

“Yeah, friends do go to the theater but even a blind person could see how you and Elijah are a far cry from friends.” She said.

You went to the kitchen to get some water, “Touche, I can literally say the same about you and Klaus.”

Cami was immediately on your trail, “Klaus and I acknowledge our feelings. You and Elijah don’t. It seems like both of you have this intense fear of rejection. To be honest, the two of you would be a pretty amazing couple.”

“Is my crush on him that obvious?” You asked, leaning against the door of the fridge.

“Even someone who doesn’t believe in the concept of love could see it.” She confirmed, throwing a teasing smile.

“Oh my-” You groaned, “Then this means that he knows as well.”

Although Cami had been successful at holding back a laugh, a grin still appeared on her face as she fondly shook her head as a mother would, “You and him are the only people oblivious to each other’s feelings.”

“Whatever.” You felt the heat starting to take over your face, “I’m going out, we’re out of milk.”

“In the middle of the night?” Cami asked.

You started putting your shoes on, “No better time.”

–

For the past half hour, you couldn’t stop thinking about what your friend had said, could Elijah possibly bear the same feelings for you?

Strangely, the city sounds and the gravel crunching under your feet didn’t distract you at all. But you couldn’t shake off the strange feeling you had, almost like your gut was telling you that something is…eerie.

You could’ve sworn that someone had to be walking behind you but when you turned around, there was nothing but a gust of wind rattling the leaves.

Brushing it off as a figment of your imagination and the fact that it was almost midnight, you started on the way back home, how on earth did you think that a store would sell you some milk at this hour?

In an attempt to get rid of the chill that was running through your whole body, you tucked your hands into the pockets of your coat.

Then, under a split second, you were suddenly thrown against the wall - feeling a bit dizzy from the impact.

You kicked and tried to scratch the person but then the man holding you captive, grinned and flashed his fangs.

At first, you thought that you had gone mad. It was practically impossible for vampires to exist. Then the man’s eyes started to darken and the veins on his face became prominent as he said, “Guess I’m getting some dessert after all.”

Nothing prepared you for this moment, in school, they never exactly taught what to do in case you run across a vampire (who also happened to not actually exist in the first place).

As the sharp points of the fangs inched closer, you braced yourself for the worst, hoping that you would jolt awake in your bed and find out that this entire thing was just some nightmare.

The grip on your throat suddenly loosened as the man in front of you limply dropped to the ground.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” The husky voice of your savior pulled you out of your shock.

“Elijah?” If you thought that the prospect of vampires being real was enough of a surprise for a lifetime, wait till you are met with Elijah Mikaelson, seemingly wiping blood off his hands as a real heart lay discarded at his side while he asked if you were okay.

“Do you want me to walk you back to Cami’s?” He asked.

“Did you just…” You started feeling dizzy, feeling completely overwhelmed with everything to be processed in the last few minutes, “pull his heart out?”

He was rendered speechless, not actually expecting that you would ask this. After a moment of silence, he answered cautiously, “Yes.”

“H-how?” You asked, not really sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Elijah looked defeated as he offered a small smile, “Let me walk you back to Cami’s and I’ll explain everything once we get there.”

In an attempt to lighten some of the tension, you asked, “Promise you won’t bite?”

Elijah laughed, “Promise.”

–

It’s been two weeks since you were told of the grand secret of New Orleans: that werewolves, witches and vampires not only roamed the streets but were also practically like royalty and the Mikaelsons happened to be called the “Originals” which are the very first vampires ever.

It’s also been two weeks since you had last seen Elijah Mikaelson.

After doing everything, even dropping by the compound in desperate hopes that you would actually see him - it was almost like he was avoiding you.

Okay, he was actually avoiding you.

“Hello ‘Bekah.” You grinned as the blonde greeted you with a kiss to the cheek, ‘as the French do’.

“This is exciting! We haven’t gone shopping in ages.” She asked with a mirroring smile, looping her arm around yours almost dragging you to the shopping center.

–

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, did you and Elijah have a fight or something?” Rebekah asked out of the blue while browsing the dresses.

“No. Why?” You replied.

“The two of you just seem so awfully distant lately.” She said, “And Elijah’s been in some kind of somber mood, he practically just shuts himself in his room all day. It’s Klaus who normally does that.”

“He’s been avoiding me for two weeks, ever since the incident with a vampire.” You said.

She raised a brow in question, “What incident?”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” You then recounted how you discovered the secret that lies beneath the streets of New Orleans.

–

Taking a deep breath, your fist hung an inch away from the door to Elijah’s room. After telling Rebekah the whole story, she pestered (and almost dragged) you to go to Elijah and talk it out.

You were about to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Elijah Mikaelson stood there, in a white shirt and pyjama pants, looking very much surprised.

“Y-Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He asked once he had finally come around.

“I’m worried.” You admitted, “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks. I had no idea if something had happened to you or if you were mad at me or something.

“I’m a vampire, an Original vampire, for goodness sake.” Elijah said, “I’m a monster, Y/N/N, I could hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“‘Lijah, what’re you talking about? You’re anything but a monster. You’re literally the sweetest person I know.” You protested.

“Aren’t you terrified by the prospect that I was transformed into a creature that feeds off of blood? A creature that nearly killed you?”

“I’m not and you wanna know why? Because I know the real you and you’re far from just a vampire.”

“But-” Before he could utter another word you suddenly pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up.

“That was.” Elijah grinned as he found it difficult to find the words to describe just how perfect it was.

You giggled, looping your arms around his neck, “If you’re going to pick back up on your monologue, I’m seriously kicking you.”

The vampire chuckled, “I can’t seem to recall what the topic was anymore.” before pulling you in for another kiss.

–

The sun was shining, the air was cool, and all the factions of New Orleans were at peace - nothing could seem more perfect.

Especially with your arm looped around Elijah’s.

“It feels like eternity since I last saw this.” Elijah mused.

“Saw what?” You asked.

“This.” He emphasized, “Everything is at peace, almost as if we were in some sort of paradise.”

Looking up at him with a smile, you said, “As long as I’m around you, everyday is paradise.”

The original chuckled, pecking a kiss to your cheek, “Now look who’s stealing my lines.”

“What?” You feigned offence, “Would you rather someone else did?”

“Never in a million years.” Elijah answered.

–

“Where is she? Bring me to her, this instance!” Elijah almost screamed as he bursted through the doors of the compound.

“Elijah, you need to calm down, she’s okay.” Rebekah said in an attempt to console her brother.

“I saw her, Rebekah, I know she isn’t okay - it’s my fault, I need to see her.” Her older brother pleaded.

“She’s in the guest room with Cami.”

As soon as the blonde uttered these words, Elijah ran to the room in question, “Camille! How is she?”

Cami shushes him, “She’s okay Elijah, her injuries looked worse than they actually were, she’s just resting now.”

The original breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down on the seat Cami had been occupying earlier while nursing you, “Thank you Cami, I’m sorry for what happened.”

Cami gave him a reassuring smile, “It’s not your fault Elijah, none of us would’ve seen it coming.”

She then left the room, closing the door behind her to give you and Elijah some privacy.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be here, go home, it’s too dangerous.” Elijah said the moment he saw you.

“I can’t Eli, I can’t stay home knowing that all of you are out here.” You protested.

“It’s too dangerous out here, you could get seriously hurt and I don’t want that.” He argued.

Before you could argue any further, Elijah immediately vampire-sped you to a secluded part of the area, “Stay here and don’t come out unless you are in grave danger or I come to pick you up.”

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly pressed a kiss to lips, “Little advice, getting stabbed with the white oak stake, because that will surely get you killed.”

Despite the ongoing battle, Elijah managed to smile, “I’ll take note of that then.”

–

Elijah would surely lecture you for this, that is if the both of you make it out of this alive.

It feels like actual torture to just stand around and wait for the battle to be over, so naturally, you ignored what Eliah had tol you and set out to fight.

Setting aside the tragedy, the whole scenery almost looked like something out of a movie - the blood splattered everyday could’ve been enough to stage a couple of crime scenes, hearts lay discarded, almost indistinguishable figures moved in and out and fortunately, no one has noticed you.

That’s when you saw it, Lucien with the white oak stake in his hand, ready to stab an unsuspecting Elijah busy fighting another vampire.

So, you did the natural thing and took the stake for him.

Elijah closed his eyes, he could still remember the way his senses told him that something was wrong a little too late, the way the blood soaked your shirt, your pained scream.

He was supposed to protect you, how could he let that happen?

“Elijah…” He suddenly heard the voice he so desperately wanted to hear.

“Y/N/N,” Elijah stood up, stroking your hair, “How’re you feeling?”

You smiled at him, “I’m feeling fine, shoulder’s just a bit sore.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been able to protect you, I was supposed to keep you safe. How do I manage to kill every woman I love?” He said.

“It’s not your fault, you protected me, you literally had me hide in a safe place. I was the one who walked into the battlefield.” You insisted.

A slight pout formed on Elijah’s lips, “But you still got hurt, you literally got stabbed. I should’ve just brought you back to the compound first.”

“And let you get stabbed with the white oak stake? Not a chance.” You laughed.

“But you got hurt.”

“And you’re alive, would you rather it be the other way around?”

“I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

“I told you to avoid the white oak stakes.”

You sighed, intertwining your hands, “Eli, I’m not a damsel in distress, I appreciate that you want to protect me but know that I can also protect you. It’s basically just give and take.”

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve always protected everyone I loved.” He said.

“Then, me and your family will always be here to protect you.” You answered.

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah x reader #elijah x y/n #mikaelson family #mikaelson family x reader #the originals x you #the originals fanfiction #the originals

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neo-my-geo · 7 months

Text

Hey gang, it’s your old pal Neo here. If you know me, it’s probably from one of the several very stupid TF2 comics I’ve posted to Tumblr.

However! I am also an English major (unfortunately). One who has read millions of words worth of fanfiction in their life. I have been part of the Sherlock, BNHA, Disco Elysium, and, of course, TF2 fandoms; I’ve been around the block.

The further I’ve progressed into my English education, the more I’ve noticed which mistakes are the most common in fanfiction. Many of them are easily fixable; writers just need to be pointed in the right direction.

“Neo! Does this mean you think people shouldn’t be allowed to post their works online without a background in formal English education?”

Of course not! I can explain why if you’d care to venture below the cut with me!

Yes, I will explain how to use commas.

It’s important to note that this is NOT a post about formal writing. You aren’t writing an essay. Please, for the love of god, do not write fiction like you’re writing an essay.

There are no stakes to writing fanfic. No one is going to get hurt if an author doesn’t know what a dangling participle is. One of my favourite things about fanfiction is that it’s one of the only art forms left that’s done exclusively for fun! You should write what you enjoy, and share what you make with like-minded people.

What I want to do is provide assistance as best I can to writers who want to improve their fundamentals without having to take the same university courses I did. Nobody is going to be getting a formal education to write fanfiction unless they’re ridiculously dedicated, and I’m not expecting that of anyone.

The point I need to stress is that knowing these grammar fundamentals can instantly improve the flow of your writing. Punctuation is a ridiculously important tool for writers, ESPECIALLY in fiction. Commas, semicolons, and full stops (including periods, exclamation points, and question marks) steer the pacing in the reader’s mind; did you notice how your brain stopped for a second after that semicolon? I can show you how to do that.

You may be wondering why I’m going through so much effort to teach all of this to strangers on the internet. The answer is that I enjoy sharing this knowledge with others and helping them grow. By seeing this, my goal is to help you become more proficient at self-editing. Showing this to people who actually want to learn will, hopefully, benefit the community as a whole, and I think that’s very worth it.

Also, while this post is obviously themed around TF2, the points I’m making can be applied to any fiction. Grammar is for everyone, and the church of the semicolon always has room for more initiates.

Also also, as an edit, I should clarify that this is meant to cover the more objective facets of self-editing, which is why I'm mostly covering punctuation. Maybe I'll do another post about using adjectives someday.

With that out of the way, let’s get going!

I’ve teamed up with several English teachers (real ones! One of which may or may not be my mom!) and an editor to gather a list of the most common problems we see in amateur fiction. This post is going to be split into three broad sections: apostrophes, commas/semicolons, and other common problems.

The apostrophe

This section is short, but it holds weight. Other than commas, apostrophes are the most typoed grammatical tool in any fanfiction I’ve edited. This is because, much like the rest of English, the rules surrounding them can be annoying and inconsistent.

Apostrophes have two main uses: possessives and conjunctions.

A possessive is a word that denotes the ownership of one thing over another. The vast majority of the time, this is done using an apostrophe and an S.

There is, however, one glaring exception to this rule, and it’s the bane of my existence.

When denoting possession of an object over something else while using the pronoun ‘it,’ you do NOT add an apostrophe before the S.

A conjunction, on the other hand, is when a writer uses an apostrophe to combine two words. The following are examples of common conjunctions:

What’s (what is)

They’re (they are)

It’s (it is)

Conjunctions are not often used in formal writing. Thankfully, we aren’t dealing in formal writing. Go crazy.

Time for a lightning round of the most commonly mistaken for each other possessives and conjunctions!

Your is possessive. You’re is a conjunction of ‘you’ and ‘are.’ When you can’t decide which one to use, imagine replacing it with ‘you are’ and seeing if it makes sense. If it doesn’t, use your.

Their is possessive. There indicates a location. They’re is a conjunction of ‘they’ and ‘are.’

The comma and the semicolon

You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. It’s time to talk about commas.

Commas and semicolons are far and away the biggest grammatical hole in the toolset of fanfiction writers everywhere. They’re often treated like the rules surrounding them are complicated and difficult to understand, but the exact opposite is true!

The big issue I’ve heard time and time again is that the rules of commas are often explained through metaphor instead of example; this means that writers everywhere have slightly different ideas of how you’re supposed to use them. The fact of the matter is that, yes, there are correct and incorrect ways to use commas. Knowing when they’re appropriate and when they aren’t is easily the fastest way to bring your writing from looking amateurish to sounding professional and experienced.

In order to know how to use a comma, you must first understand the difference between a dependent and an independent clause.

An independent clause is a section of writing that functions perfectly well as its own sentence. It MUST have both a subject and an action/verb.

A sentence without an independent clause is known as a fragment, and they’re the bane of English teachers with highlighters everywhere.

A dependent clause is a section of writing that does not have both a subject and an action; it does not function as its own sentence.

Now, let’s say you want to combine the two. When joining a dependent clause to an independent clause, the order in which they are placed is crucial to whether you use a comma or not.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the independent clause first, you do not need to use a comma.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the dependent clause first, you MUST use a comma.

Keep in mind that, if one strives for total grammatical perfection, all narrative sentences MUST have an independent clause. This, however, does not apply to dialogue. Human beings do not think about whether what they’re saying is a dependent clause, and neither would the vast majority of fictional characters. Don’t be afraid to break the rules of grammar as long as it’s contained within quotation marks.

Alright, that’s the easy part. Time to learn about joining two independent clauses. It’s semicolon time, baby!

If you join two independent clauses without properly using a comma or a semicolon, it is a run-on sentence. You do not want these in your writing. They’re awkward to read and mess up the flow.

When joining two independent clauses, you can use EITHER a comma or a semicolon. You just need to follow these rules:

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a comma, you MUST use a joining word (and, but, so, etc.) AFTER the comma.

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a semicolon, you do NOT need to use a joining word.

Did you know that a sentence with a comma counts as its own independent clause? This means that you can make a sentence that includes a mix of both without it being a run-on! Just make sure that, no matter what, the semicolon is between two independent clauses.

Still, try not to write more than two clauses in a sentence too often. Sentences with a lot of punctuation are very attention-grabbing, but shouldn’t be overused. Full stops aren’t your enemy and variety is the spice of life.

It’s also important to remember that you should avoid using more than one comma in a clause (with the exception of the rule below). That part loops back to the 'avoiding run-ons' bit.

It’s really that easy!

Commas are also used in informal writing to inject a separate thought or descriptor mid-sentence without breaking the flow by adding a period. This is often used when describing the perspective of a character experiencing something in a story, but not (usually) when using omniscient perspectives.

The final issue I frequently see with commas in fanfiction is in regards to dialogue. Sometimes you end it with them, and sometimes you don’t. What gives?

Well, my friend, the answer is, thankfully, much simpler than the previous section.

When following dialogue with a dialogue tag, use a comma instead of a full stop. If you’re continuing the previous sentence after the tag, use a comma after it as well.

Note that a dialogue tag is a short phrase that identifies the speaker. It isn’t a complete sentence on its own.

When following dialogue with an action that does not serve as a dialogue tag, use a full stop instead of a comma.