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#nor do i care to sit down and learn.
theokusgallery · 3 months
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I went to sleep at 3am for this. Made in Ren'Py
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Look at my little guy.
Context:
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Then me explaining the concept in more detail:
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t-u-i-t-c · 10 months
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chapter xliv
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femonologue · 1 month
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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.
I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.
A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.
"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.
She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"
"What's a tulip?" I ask.
"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."
"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.
I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.
"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.
I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.
It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"
I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.
"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."
I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."
We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.
I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.
By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.
Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.
When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.
After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.
I never see grunge girl again.
That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.
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ridingthatd · 5 months
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◕◔ RYOMEN TWINS I
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◔◕ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, twins breeding you, possessive, kinky asf part 1
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the ryomen twins were known around the whole kingdom- more like they were feared by the whole kingdom, they hold a power no one could compare to, no one as much as dares to make eye contact with them- fearing for their life, they could destroy an entire nation just by lifting a finger- and nobody want to experience the agony of disobeying or displeasing them in anyway.
even though the twins look identically alike- they're the complete opposite of each other, after working for such a long time for them- the longest anyone worked under them without "suddenly" dying or got brutally killed. you learned to tell the difference between them.
sukuna ryomen. such a heartless man, who you can barely get a reaction out of- at first you always thought how can someone be so psychotic, how can someone hold so much evil in them, but you learned to accept it by time, you learned to live with seeing him take a bath- soaking in a solution of cursed energy formed from crushing and straining venemous creatures.
sukuna ryomen. was rough with the way he treated you, rough in a way he wouldn't care to ask about your opinion or care to open his mouth and tell you what he pleased- he would simply harshly pick you up by his lower four arms, make you sit uncomfortably with him in the disgusting of a bath- watching your every move as you gently scrub on his rough skin, and what always seem to leave you fascinated was the vibration that always leaves from his chest everytime you scrub him- purring like a huge beast. resting his huge face on the swollen of your breast as he breaths you in.
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itadori yuji. he was the complete opposite of his brother, he held such a nice energy around him, he was never harsh nor aggressive in anyway towards you, he had such a gentle soul- that's at least how you felt, he would treat you like a delicate flower with so much gentility, you loved having silly little conversations with him, you loved the small walks he would walk with you- even as much as help you with laundry that he knew nothing about.
itadori yuji. he would always yell at his brother as soon as he takes a look at the finger marks he left behind from picking you up here and then, like a ragdoll- you could be doing dishes, sukuna make his way toward hold you 7 feets up the ground sniff you then place you down with a thud. itadori seems to hate it as he frowns at the marks rubbing them gently, he even goes as far as placing a kiss on them letting his lips linger there while his pink warm tongue peak out licking wetly- he makes an unbearable eye contact with you.
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your heart pounds in your chest, as you hear yelling coming from itadoris office- you never ever heard itadori yelling the way he's yelling right now and it made you feel so uneasy, it made you wanna run and hide far away. you flinch once you hear the door open and loud footsteps echos in the hallway- the hallway you were in, mopping the floor.
from the shadow that's coming your way- you can tell it was sukuna with his two extra arms that his brother didn't have- or as they say he didn't wanna show. you tightly shut your eyes, holding the wooden mop praying to goddess that he would just to go his room.
but even the goddess couldn't save you from sukunas shadow that now tour over you- you can feel his warm breath on your neck as he leans in, sniffing you as always- but this time he didn't hold you nor pick you up.
you flinch again as you hear itadoris office door slam open and fast heavy foot steps comes directly your way. it was itadori- you couldn't recognize him, he look furious like a beast who was set out of the cage for the first time. glaring at sukuna.
" I fucking told you to stay away from her." he growls out, fuming at the mouth, sukuna rolls his eyes as he steps away from you and continue his way toward his bedroom yelling out a-
"I didn't touch her brother, have it however you want" that makes itadoris eyes snap to you- grabbing your arms harshly for the first time- scanning you for any marks that his brother could have left behind.
it looks like he wasn't satisfied as he picks you, holding you to tightly- to close to your liking you can feel his hard chest pressed harshly against your soft boobs- hard nipples, as he makes his way toward his bedroom closing the door loudly behind him.
he throws you on his bed, making you gasp- as you bounce, not letting you have enough time to process what's happening as he continues his scan- roughly holding your hips, pressing hard against the bed, not letting you move.
you were confused why, when was he this harsh, his soft touch were long forgotten as he hold you so painfully that you couldn't help but choke out a-
"it hurts" that seems to snap him out of it, as his eyes look at you gently and his touch loosen up a bit- looking at you worriedly but whatever his next thought was, it made his eyes darken again, his grip harden, fingers squeezing your hips, earning a pained groan from you.
"why? don't you like that" he whispers harshly against your ear as he leans in, you frown confused on what does he mean by that, you feel his warm breath against your sensitive neck, making you move your hips, trying to escape whatever is going on.
itadori trail his nose slowly down your ear taking deep breaths in, feeling his lips brush against your neck as he do, your heart is pounding as he settle one of his thick legs between your thigh, while the other is outside- caging you in.
"I don't think I quite understand what you mean, my lord." you gasp out, feeling him place his lips on the sensitive part of your neck, while his nose rub gently making it ticklish. itadori lean back to look you in the eyes- his eyes were dark, pupils expanded, staring at you hazely, as if he got drunk on your scent that he was sniffing in.
his eyes trails to your lips, your heart thumps-thumps as he leans in brushing his nose against yours still maintaining eye contact- his mouth half-open just like yours.
"I will show you" he growls out before he fully leans in and take your lips between his teeth- tugging them into his mouth, to meet his warm tongue that peak out to cares your lips, wetting them with his spit- before he fully take your lower lip in, and start sucking on it, making a hot loud wet sound,
this doesn't seem to be enough for him as he leans more in, pushing his knee into your sensitive cunt, making you moan into his mouth which only seems to drive him even more crazy, pushing his knee deeper just like his tongue that makes its way in your mouth just to meet yours.
circling wetly around it, it made you feel so light headed, the way he sucked your tongue into his mouth lapping on it likes he's a new born baby, you whimper into his mouth not realizing that you starting to arch your already dripping cunt into his knee.
"wanna breed you" itadori rasps out, as he break his tongue away from yours staring at the wet string that still connect your mouth together, he grinds his knee into your aching cunt, breathing hard against your lips.
"wanna fuck you" you whimper, your fingers tugging on his hair, letting your tongue out- in intention to tell him that you want his tongue inside your mouth again.
this move of yours drived him crazy, making him groan as he harshly gives you his tongue again swirling it around yours, while he line his throbbing cock against your leaking cunt, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up- grinding against your panties only.
yours lips disconnect again with a wet pop sound, as yuji trail his rough large hands under your dress making their way toward your aching nipples- twisting them against his fingers.
"wanna be inside of you now" he moans out more like to himself- his hips thrusting crazily against yours, it was to much force- to inhuman, it made you bounce hard against the bed, you couldn't do anything but grab on his hair for support- which only seemed to make yuji go even more psychotic.
"fuck, want to feel your wet cunt on my face" he growls out, flipping you so fast- that he was laying down as you straddle his face, your panties was ripped into half by itadoris teeth- like it offended him for hiding your cunt from him.
he slapped your ass so hard- you were sure it was going to leave a purple mark, you cry out, "fuck sorry won't do it again" he coo at you rubbing the spot- but he lied, he does it again and again and again, your pussy was so wet, dripping, drenched as you ride your lords face, you can slide on his face from how wet it was with your juice.
slap, slap, slap, your ass was covered with purple hand marks "more-" he laps on your 5th orgasm, "I want fucking more of this sweet little cunt" he growls out eating your cunt up eagerly, your body was limp on top of his face, your full body weight was set on his face- but he only seemed to enjoy it.
"please no more i can't-" he slurps on your clit holding your thighs hard against his face, you choke on your sobs, "I can't please- please".
he gently stroke your ass, as he mutters out "one more", and you give him exactly what he asked for, squirting all over your lords face- it was to much pleasure, you were trying to move your hips away, but he held your thighs locked into his face not freeing you till he licked every single last drop.
you thought it was over as he place you down on the bed- but you judged to quick as you take a look at his ragging cock that was covered with his own cum, seeds leaking out cumming just from eating your delicious cunt out.
your cunt clench once itadori reveals his huge cock, wanting to be filled by it, "please please" you pathetically spread your thighs, showing him your puffy red pussy from being sucked by him.
"you want me to fuck you? you want to be fucked by your lord?" he darkly questions out as he lines his cock, pushing fully in before you got time to answer.
dark, all you can see is dark, pleasure, all you can feel is pleasure, as you open your eyes gasping for air, to see itadori thrusting his hips inside of you, so fast- so hard, chanting to himself.
"fuck you're so tight, so tight" he moans out drool drips from his mouth to yours, it was to hot, to hot, "I'm going to fill with my cum, you want it? you want it?" he crazily questions as he lock his hips with yours, hovering over you, grabbing your chin just to shove his tongue deep inside your mouth, fucking it just like he's fucking your pussy.
"fuck fuck gonna fill you fuuuuuck" he growls as you feel hot cum hit your womb, you twitch underneath him, it was all to much for you- for you little human body.
itadori didn't pull out his cock was spilling since forever, still spilling even as it leaks out into his bed sheets- you whimper, as you feel him rock his hips, fucking his cum into you.
he coo at you, kissing your sweaty forehead before he pulls out, and spread your thighs just to grin crazily as he looks at the way your red puffy pussy was dripping with his cum.
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ to be continued?₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
: ̗̀➛ part 2 is 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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slttygeto · 8 months
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“my love, all mine.” — GOJO. S
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c.w: tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, fem! reader, i love gojo.
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satoru loves to love. it’s not that hard to see that the man is a lover boy through and through, but sometimes you see his eyes shine at the sight of one of his students, a puppy on the streets, a kid picking a flower for their mom, or when he locks eyes with you in the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning and the way his lips tilt upwards has you holding a hand up to your chest when he looks away, because god he was so cute.
so you ask him how it feels to love, you sit him down on the couch and tell him you want to try this new homemade face mask on him and he agrees without a second thought. he watches as you sit between his legs on the couch, a little uncomfortable but you don’t care, nor mind. you are so close to satoru’s pretty face.
“you love to love,” you point it out and dab the brush on his cheek before planting a gentle kiss to his lips. “why is that?”
“why do I love to love?” he asks with a chuckle and his hands rest on your ass with pure intentions. the man was super affectionate, and you learned the difference between him initiating something and simply being his cuddly self.
“mhm, it’s cute. but i feel like there’s more to it.” you point out and gojo has to hold himself back from calling you so adorable.
“because my love is mine. it belongs to me,” he starts and a hand brushes a single hair strand that fell on your race. “I get to feel it and give it to people that mean so much to me, but I love seeing it on other people.” his thumb brushes your cheek affectionately and his heart jumps when he feels you smile snd the muscles in your face move at the same time.
“see? that just made my heart jump.”
“you’re too much.” you try to fight back the blush creeping upwards but gojo has other plans as his hands cup your cheeks with two big hands before planting a deep kiss to your lips.
“mine.” he says and presses another kiss to your lips. “all mine, you are my love. you make loving so worth it.” you can’t even fight him on it, your hands weakly grabbing onto his wrists before asking him to let you breathe.
“too much love for today?” he pouts and you giggle.
“there’s never enough love, but I do need to breathe if you wanna keep loving me.”
gojo satoru was many things to other people. a teacher, a mentor, a father figure, a best friend and a lover. but to you, he was love.
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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emphistic · 1 month
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Sukuna - 0 / Yuuji - 1
The both of you had reserved a dinner at this restaurant weeks prior. Not for any particular reason, just so you guys could have some fun on a night out together — something that neither of you have experienced in a while. Well, that was the original plan. Yuuji tagging along wasn't. Nor was a tantrum from the little boy, so Sukuna just had to accept the former, unless he wanted the latter . . . which he did not.
This was going to be a long night.
"Umm, can I have a Capri Sun? — Please?"
A very long night.
"Of course! I'll be right back with all of your orders."
Things weren't looking any better for the pink-haired man when the meals came.
Yuuji seemed to be struggling with his macaroni and cheese. Every time he tried to pick up a macaroni, it slid off his fork. Yuuji pouted, puffing his chubby cheeks out, and crossed his little arms.
"Aww, Yuuji. Do you need some help?" You turned to the boy, picking up his fork — that was specifically designed for kids, albeit it wasn't proving to be of any help to the toddler at the moment.
Yuuji fervently nodded his head, "Yes, please!"
"Alright, I'll help you," you ruffled his pink hair, eliciting a giggle from the boy. You picked up some macaroni and blew on it before feeding it to Yuuji.
"'s so yummy!" Yuuji exclaimed.
"Mhm," you wiped some sauce off the side of his mouth with a napkin.
When you had fed Yuuji an adequate amount of his dish, and he decided he wanted to take a coloring break, you began to try your own food. It's safe to say that after having starved yourself to feed a toddler, fettuccine alfredo is close to enchanting.
"Babe, this is so good. You have to try," you twirled the pasta with your fork and held your hand under it — avoiding any possible messes — before feeding it to the man sitting across from you.
Sukuna was ecstatic about having your attention back on him, and not on his little brother, and greedily accepted the food.
"It's not bad," Sukuna remarked, gesturing to you to give him more.
You took another bite of your pasta, before obliging to Sukuna's request, leaning over the table to reach the man.
All the while, Yuuji watched you feed his big brother with glittering eyes. "I wanna try, I wanna try!" He chanted repeatedly, in his adorable, squeaky voice.
"Okay, Yuuji. Just be careful, it's hot," again, you blew on the pasta before feeding it to Yuuji.
"It is dewicous!" Yuuji giggled, having not learned to differentiate between his l's and w's.
You set your fork down, grabbing your purse and getting up from your seat. Both of the Itadori brothers turned to you with looks of curiosity etched on their faces.
"I'm just going to the bathroom. Be right back," you rubbed Yuuji's cheek, making sure he would understand that you would only be away for a little bit.
Sukuna's gaze followed your back as you took your leave. He sighed, not wanting to be left alone with a toddler.
For a few moments, all was silent. Sukuna was glad for the lack of a squeaky voice. Unfortunately, a few moments does not last a long time.
"Umm, Sukuna. Can you help me?"
Sukuna closed his eyes, asking God what he did to be punished this way.
"Help you with what?"
"Can you help feed me, because, because my food is too hot." Yuuji looked at his brother, waiting for him to answer.
Sukuna has to face away from Yuuji, and take a deep breath just to restrain himself from going berserk on the little kid. Then he said, in the most calm voice he could muster, "First, you sit next to my girlfriend and make me sit across from her. Second, you steal her food. And third, you're making me feed you. Yeah, no way, little man." Sukuna shook his head.
Yuuji cocked his head at his brother. "But Y/N was helping me."
"Do I look like Y/N to you? . . . Don't answer that, brat." Sukuna scowlee, grabbing Yuuji's little fork and moving to feed him.
"Here comes the airplane, or whatever. I don't know what kinda shit Y/N says to you."
"Umm, it's too hot."
"That's not my problem, now eat it."
Yuuji gulped, deciding to blow on the macaroni himself, and eating it.
"See? Wasn't so bad."
This continued on for a whopping five minutes. Sukuna finally relented and blew on the macaroni before feeding Yuuji. The little boy was happy to spend time with his older brother, and was practically bouncing in his seat. On the other hand, Sukuna was just glad Yuuji wasn't crying about you not being there.
When you came back from the restrooms, Sukuna immediately put down Yuuji's fork and returned to eating his own meal.
"So, how was it, you two? Did you guys have some quality brotherly love time?"
". . . You are never leaving me alone with this brat again, ever."
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin
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evilminji · 3 months
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You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!
Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!
Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.
You knew he'd be our Son in advance!
YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!
YOU [REDACTED]!
Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.
......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*
Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!
*Exasperated Time Noises*
It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!
Which?
UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.
SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!
Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*
But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*
Injustice! D:<
But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.
That Safe Little Corner.
IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.
You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.
Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?
*empty room*
(O.O)
*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!
Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!
But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.
When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.
And that's okay.
It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.
You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.
But is that YOU?
Or just the form you found your start in?
And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.
Everyone mourns at their own pace.
And they are the ghosts of who they were.
It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.
It was okay.
To cry for Danny Fenton.
Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.
He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.
No tributes to the Dead.
He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.
He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.
He can't tell.
Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!
Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!
(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)
So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).
Ha ha!
Why does that feel like foreshadowing?
BECAUSE IT IS!
Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!
And on DC's planet Earth?
They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.
From near PLUTO.
There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!
Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.
A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.
That MIGHT BE MAGIC.
*highly stressed Everyone noises*
And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!
But! There is hope!
Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!
They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.
....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!
Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?
Danny Wakes Up.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation
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atskiruma · 1 year
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he makes you cry
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expl: he doesn't usually care about others' feelings, so how was he supposed to know what he did to you was mean?
a/n: appalled that this is my first time doing my favorite geo boy, appalled and ashamed; also exhausted this might not be my best work, requests sent will be fulfilled soon, i just need some rest! just got hired at a job that i went for an interview with today, so work will slowly be coming out later and later, sorry!
ask me anything
masterlist
second-person writing no pronouns used, 2,818 words
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Xiao was not fond of caring about others' emotions, nor did it ever occur to him that he should care. He tried to keep his life as simple and as peaceful as possible because he deserved it after everything he went through before. Which was why he was so confused when someone would cry in front of him. Xiao never cried when times were hard, what made those salty tears escape human eyes so easily?
Most of the time, he never saw people cry, and if he did, he ignored it. That's how he was taught to deal with emotion, he'd ignore it.
It began when you were up in your room at the Inn, minding your business and trying to figure out how to make the woven bracelet that the Traveler had taught you. Frankly, it was pretty difficult, and when the Traveler was teaching you, you were so busy watching them that you never actually learned.
The hours were beginning to fly by and you could hardly make out the original pattern you were trying to replicate. Repeated failures over and over and piling yarn began to stack up on the bed next to you. It was when you had finally gotten it down to only mess up again because something distracted you was when you finally snapped.
Throwing the bracelet across the room where it rested under the table, streams of hot tears began to roll down your cheeks in frustration. You were doing everything right, why wasn't it working!
It happened to be the same time you were leaving your room when Xiao was strolling down the hallway. The two of you made eye contact and his eyes flew to where the tears were running toward the bottom of your neck. His eyes widened only a little bit and his mouth opened and closed like a fish only to not know what to say.
You also stood still and stared at him. Why? Maybe you were just waiting for him to comfort you or you were curious about what he had to say. But when it was clear that he'd keep gapping like a fish, you started to walk off again. Only for him to grab your wrist before you made it too far and pull you a bit toward him.
"Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice, hardly making eye contact with you and finding his shoes on the floor more entertaining. It was shocking to see him show such concern in general, but you remembered why you were upset and started to ball again. Pushing yourself into his chest and crying warm tears into his shirt.
His hands fumbled on the sides of you for a while until he rested them softly on your hips. Awkwardly patting you in a form of reassurance he'd never shown anyone before.
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His face was pretty flat when you began to show signs of distress and sadness. Albedo was too focused on his experiment to even realize that something went wrong on your end. The sound of a beaker crashing to the floor sounded across the room, but he still kept looking forward, hardly hearing anything at all.
That sound kept up for a while, you were pretty sure you broke at least 5 beakers in the time it took for you to get them from the spare cabinet. It wasn't until the 6th beaker that you managed to catch did Albedo actually turn around to see what had happened.
His experiment seemed to be going fine, the color of the liquid sitting at the bottom of the beaker matching the picture right next to it perfectly. You sighed when you saw he had already beaten you to make the antidote.
"I don't know how you do it 'bedo. This one is probably the most difficult I've done." You said before wiping your forehead which was littered with sweat from how hard you'd been concentrating.
"Just try again, I'm sure you'll be able to complete it." He said, his encouraging words going little to no length and falling straight to the floor. It didn't help that the trashcan full of your previous broken beakers was so close. It was extremely discouraging to see how much damage you've caused just trying to learn how to brew the antidote.
Then Albedo took his leave, putting his things down when he realized the clock read 9 PM. Bidding you goodbye, he looked back one last time with his handle on the doorknob and spoke. "Humans sometimes do not carry the skill to complete such a difficult task, do not push yourself to do something you simply can't achieve."
And then the door shut. All you did was stare at where he previously had been, his words repeating in an endless loop shrinking infinitely into your mind.
"Huh?" Was all you said before a warm feeling rushed down your cheeks and landed on the toe of your shoes. Did he just call me stupid? You thought to yourself. The frustration you felt along with the fact that he just said that, caused a rush of salty tears to leave your eyes. Your eyelashes stuck together as tears mended them together.
You continued to stand there and cry, until the door opened again and the alchemist stuck his head back in the door, announcing he forgot something towards the floor. That was until he lifted his head up to see you standing there, crying. For once, he stood still and just stared at you unable to conjure any words for the scene he was witnessing.
The sniffles and the silent sounds of tears padding the floor were all that was making sound in the room. As Albedo continued to stare at you like the two of you were playing a game of freeze tag.
"I'm stupid aren't I 'bedo?" You said, which made him flinch when the sound of the nickname you gave him came out in a harsh and rude manner. "Too stupid to figure out the dumb potion because I'm just a mere human in your eyes."
"What're you talking about?" He said, with the quietest and most emotion-full voice you've ever heard him use. Albedo continued to step closer to you, almost as if he was never moving at all. When he finally did reach you, his hand brushed against your cheek and his eyes held so much concern it could fill up the sea.
"I don't think you're lesser than me, is this about what I said? I didn't mean it like that..."
You kept sniffling while looking at him, still stubborn for more than what he was giving you. His arms reached around you and held you close, something he often did when Klee would sob, which he learned from Jean.
The two of you stood like that for a while, until the blazing sun rested its eyes in the distance, and the sorrowful moon began to creep up the valley.
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"What is wrong with you??" Tighnari's harsh voice came out in a way you only heard once in a while. His irritated look glared at you from where you stood, all you had done was knock down a few books, but it looked like other things were really beginning to upset him.
You expected to greet the forest ranger and spend some time together, seeing as the both of you made those plans a while ago, but it seems that he was really busy with something that he was supposed to finish a while ago.
He whipped his head back to look at the beakers on the table, making a very loud and audible sigh at your appearance here. "I'm busy, so make another time for..." He waved his hands around dramatically and quick, "Whatever it was you were planning and leave me be."
You stood silent for a while, shocked that he was giving you such an attitude, but at the same time, you had no idea how to respond to what he said. So, you did just that and didn't respond, turning on your heels and leaving. Unfortunately, Tighnari didn't hear you leave and assumed you were still sitting there waiting for him like usual. So when he turned around and opened his mouth to address you and apologize, he stopped in his tracks to see you weren't there.
When you saw Tighnari again, it was actually just his voice you had heard and your eyes didn't flicker to see if it was actually him. Collei was holding some sort of dinner for the forest rangers in the area, to both thank them and congratulate her for beating Eleazar. But you finally did see him when it was too late, and you were bumping into the forest ranger with food in your hands.
A shocked gasp came out of your mouth till the echoed noise of a bowl rumbled onto the ground and crashed down, the food flying along with it. Your distressed state increased, and you immediately flew down to try and clean it up.
In fact, you were so busy trying to clean the bowl of food that had spilled over that you didn't even realize the forest ranger was standing behind you with his hands behind his back. Until the call of your name was repeated for the 3rd time, did you turn around to look at him, tears in your eyes from how frustrated you were?
Tighnari's eyes widened before he immediately dropped to his knees and put his hand on your shoulder for comfort. It shocked him to see you in such a vulnerable state, especially with how cheery you always seemed around him.
"What happened? Are you alright?" Tighnari said, before moving his eyes down to the food splattered all over the dirt. You didn't even realize how much helping out at the party would stress you out. As soon as Tighnari muttered the words are you alright, tears flooded out more and more as you tried to hide your face in your hands. Your shoulders and body shook with how much you were crying. Tighnari moved closer to you and shielded you with his body.
Not only did he treat you terribly before, but the first time he sees you in days, you were crying? His heart felt like it could break then and there. His hand came around your back to soothingly rub circles on it while you continued to sob. His ears even flattened a bit on his head in guilt.
When Collei had come around the corner to see the pasta salad splattered on the ground, and Tighnari hugging you with his tail between his legs. She smiled and sighed a bit, before walking away to leave you two be.
It felt like a long time while the two of you sat like that, his hand never stopping to rub your back. You finally pulled away to look at him and Tighnari rested his hand on your cheek in a comforting manner.
"I'm sorry I treated you like that, I was irritated and you came in at a bad time. I never want to hurt you." His guilt-written face and ears practically flattened to his head making your heart beat in a painful rhythm.
"You can make it up to me by helping me clean this up?" You said as a sly grin grew a little bit on your face. He smiled back and rolled up his sleeves to begin cleaning.
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Scaramouche was a mean boy, everyone knew that he had no filter and he acted as if he didn't care about anyone when in reality it was the exact opposite.
"You're pathetic!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, looking at your shocked expression and stance from across the room. You had just failed to do the task that Nahida assigned you again, and it seemed like the newly-found anemo holder was growing more and more impatient watching you fail over and over.
"Excuse me?" You spat back, clearly irritated with his outburst and pushiness. Scaramouche scoffed again before trailing over to where you were, Nahida watching the interaction from her desk.
"You've been doing it all wrong, and that pathetic idiot brain can't seem to comprehend that." His fingers flew a swift flick to your head, pushing you back a centimeter. "If you keep failing, shouldn't you be trying something else instead of pushing the same solution over and over? Moron."
His insults over and over were hurting, sure, but you were used to it. When you felt good. Right now, this was the last thing you needed after failing again and again. At one point you even glanced over at Nahida after failing and saw her face look a bit reluctant about your skills. Which increased your anxiety tenfold.
"I never knew someone could be so stupid. I even worked with morons every day in the Fatui, but none match up to how idiotic you are." Scaramouche just kept blasting insult after insult at you. What was with him today? Was he really that peeved you didn't wait for him in the morning to walk over here?
Moving aside and putting your hands up defensively, you made way for the prince and his smart brain. He moved in front of you and began looking down at what you were doing. It looked like Nahida was still working with you on Fermat's Last Theorem, which was an extremely difficult math equation, back in the 17th century. Scaramouche made a noticeable eye roll before sitting down to begin writing out how to solve it.
What he didn't see was your reaction to the last flinching insult he threw your way. He didn't witness the tears swell up in your eyes and he also didn't see you walk away and leave the sanctuary. Only witnessing your presence gone when he looked up to turn another sarcastic comment towards you. Scaramouche's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before looking around him to see where you went. He turned towards Nahida when he couldn't find you and she looked up at him before looking back down at her papers.
"Tsk, whatever." He pushed his seat back and sat up to leave, wondering what he should have for dinner instead of concerning himself with where you went. It wasn't until later in the evening when he saw you again, sitting back at the desk, not uttering an obnoxious sigh or an irritating "What does this mean??"
He eased himself over to you with his hands in his pockets before leaning behind your shoulder to see what you were doing. You were working on the problem again, but his copy of it was nowhere to be seen, that is until he looked towards the trash and saw his handwriting on the paper barely crumpled and resting near the top of the bin.
"You threw away my paper?" He said with irritation lining every letter. You kept writing though and paid him no mind. The silent treatment seemed to be really riling him up because he continued to berate you over and over as you sat there taking it and continuing to work.
It was only an hour later that it really started to bother him with you being quiet. Maybe what he said earlier was too harsh, he didn't really feel that bad, but if it meant you weren't going to speak to him then he had to do something.
Leaning over you again, he placed his hand on your upper arm, grabbing your attention from the unusual act. His eyes met yours and held the stare for a couple seconds before he spoke,
"I'm sorry." That was all he said.
You raised an eyebrow at him, before squinting your eyes in confusion and responding.
"Sorry for what..?" The sarcasm dripped from every syllable and landed on his fragile ego.
His eyes widened and he took his hand from your arm, frowning and shouting back,
"I don't repeat myself! Accept the apology I gave you."
"You're such a child, does saying sorry really hurt that bad?"
"You heard me!"
Your eyes rolled and you turned back to your paper as if you were going back to ignoring him, his eyes softened again and he grabbed your arm once more.
"I'm sorry I said those mean words to you. I didn't mean it, I don't like it when you leave without me and I don't like it when you're upset."
When he grabbed your arm, you didn't turn to face him again, but after hearing the words he spoke, you turned again with a smile on your face and leaned closer to his.
The blush was evidently growing the more you leaned in, and you could see his adam's apple bob with nervousness.
"I accept your apology Kunikuzushi."
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queenimmadolla · 6 months
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𝐍𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐬
Summary: Eddie being sleep deprived because his three month-old baby won't go down for a nap.
A quick little blurb that's been bothering me since last night so I just had to jot it down. More of Eddie and Penny here.
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“C’mon, sweet pea. You’re killin me.”
  Eddie sighed, placing his three month-old on her back, alongside him on the bed. 
  Just as she had the last seven times he’d tried to lay her down, his baby began grunting, straining herself as she attempted to sit up on her own, neck muscles working overtime. She wouldn’t be able to sit up, of course. Still smaller than his forearm, Penny was much too little, nor did she have that kind of control over her body, but still she tried, wrinkly fingers curling into fists, face darkening as she trembled and her upper half tensed.
  She could hurt herself, though. So once more, Eddie sighed, carefully lifting her up and settling her on his upper torso, her little head bobbing clumsily in the crook of his neck as she continued to grunt and squeak.
  Penny wasn’t supposed to be awake, she was fighting sleep and doing so fiercely. Twenty-seven minutes past her nap time and she was trying to stare at the world around her in wonder rather than rest as she should so she wouldn’t be up through the night and keeping the two of you up. But this was now Penny’s world. And they were just living in it and caring for her, completely at her mercy.
  He’d set the sleepmosphere; turned off the lights, closed his blinds, and was playing a lullaby that came from the giant baby monitor that stayed above her crib. Plus, his little baby had a plump tummy full of breastmilk and no gas to upset her. Eddie had rocked her until she got quiet, but everytime he so much as peaked around to see if her big brown eyes were open, they were. Wide open and flickering to everything in the room, little mouth parted in awe. She even had the audacity to struggle against his hand, cradling the back of her soft and dainty head.
  Penny was getting stronger and stronger every day.
  “Okay, why don’t we make a deal? You go to sleep right now, and I’ll convince your mom to up the ounces of your bottles and distract her with conversation when she’s breastfeeding you. Look at that, you’d get more food and more rest. It’s a win-win because then you wouldn’t be screeching at daddy in the middle of the night while he’s sleep deprived and warming up a bottle for you.”
  And when he felt his baby’s bobble head whack into the side of his neck, “That’s unnecessary. I made you a fair offer with no cons on your part—violence is not the answer.”
  He waited a beat, eyes staring at the wall as he became overly aware of the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion that had settled over him that he’d since learned to run on. Eddie had reached the manic state already, now it was just acceptance.
  Penny let out a particularly protesting squeak, loud and demanding as she seemed to finally run out of strength, face rubbing into his collar bone until she could replenish it and lift her head again.
  “Fine. You win. Just know, when I’m old and senile and you’ll have to change my diapers, I will be returning the favor.”
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b-00-biez · 1 year
Text
"Slashers with an S/o who cries when people shout at them"
Warning: cursing and a bit of angst
Characters: Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire
Bo Sinclair
You and bo have fights but never to the point he yells or shouts at you. This time he was really angry because a victim escaped.
"I TOLD YOU TO WATCH THEM FOR ONE SECOND AND THEY ESCAPED, IT WAS THAT SIMPLE"
You bite your lip refusing to talk back as you lower your head until he is finished.
He sighed and made you look up at him. You were crying, big tears flow from your eyes as you looked at him. Your lips quivering and you looked away.
You both stood there until Bo broke and gave you a hug
It wasnt like those apology hugs your mom made you do to make up with your siblings
It was very sincere and tight
"I'm sorry doll, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you. " he whispered in your ear so soft and gentle.
He sat you both down while you're in his lap as he caresses your back. You both stayed there holding each other in your arms.
He told Lester to find the victim which he did and killed so it was problem solved.
From today on he never raised his voice when he got angry, you both communicated better and you two would make up pretty quickly.
If any of his brothers did the same to yell at you then he would be throwing hands
All in all he learned to be gentle with you which his brothers never ever thought he could do
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas already knew you cried when being shouted at
Hoyt was never really a good tempered person and will degrade your self esteem the chance he gets but you would suck the tears back up and wont let Thomas know what happened.
This time it was something different
"YOU FUCKING WHORE, ALL THE SHIT YOU DID WILL PASS THROUGH TOMMY BUT NOT ME"
You were shivering, Luda mae was not there to save you or beat this bitch and tommy was busy in the basement.
Hoyt raised a hand at you, as you squinted your eyes to brace yourself of the impact you hear..
"Aye tommy i-i was kidding.. hehe.. your little doll there was..AAAAA"
Tommy was standing in between you and hoyt , holding the man's hand back.
Tommy almost choked him to death if it werent for Luda Mae finally getting home.
Your boyfriend kept you in his arms like a baby as he rocks you.
He mumbles and grunts to give encouragement
He wont let anyone of his family yell nor harm you
Brahms Heelshire
You weren't the best of care takers. You always followed the rules so you wont anger Brahms.
But since Malcohlm was running late and you needed the groceries you have no choice but to go to the store
You planned to just have a quick trip so that when you come back Brahms wont even notice. But he did , he saw you walk out that gate.
Brahms is an impatient man, a minute of you gone it's been hours to him. But when you come back.
He stormed screaming at you
"YOU BROKE THE RULES, YOU DARE LEAVE ME ALONE LIKE MY PARENTS?! YOURE HORRIBLE "
You tried to explain yourself with incoherent mumbles as you shake. He towers over you going silent, Hes just looking at you!
You broke down and into a ball
Brahms started to feel bad, at least you came back for him.
He left you alone and slid your favorite snack over to you as he sits on the floor with you
In his childish voice he started to say sorry , patting your head gently
If you're both stuck in this house he might as well treat you better
He hugs you not letting go until you stopped crying
-Just a quick reminder that if you experience this in real life from a spouse its best to leave them, although fights are normal among relationships they shouldnt mistreat you either way💕
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whateveriwant · 7 months
Note
Can you please do Task force 141 finding out they’re having quintuplets! I’d imagine that they wouldn’t plan to have that many….at least not all at once 🧍‍♀️
Ghost
When the technician points out the five distinct dots on the ultrasound, he immediately goes dead silent
I mean, he's always pretty quiet anyway, but this is like quiet quiet
He doesn't utter a single word for the rest of the appointment, nor on the ride back home for that matter
This has you more concerned than you care to admit because you know that, not that long ago, he didn't think he'd ever have (much less want) kids of his own some day
So now that he's learned he's about to have five? You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now
It isn't until you're walking through the front door that you're being stopped with a gentle hand tugging on your wrist
You turn to look at him and, without a word, he drops to his knees before you, rolling up the bottom of your shirt to expose your belly
He'll press the softest of kisses just beside your navel, before looking up at you with expressive eyes that convey the foremost thought in his head: Thank you
Soap
Nearly shits a brick the moment the words leave the technician's mouth
All the color swiftly drains from his face and he has to sit down before he keels over right in the middle of the office
It's not so much fear that has him going paper white but pure shock at hearing the unexpected (yet not unhappy) news
While you'd already discussed having a big family together one day, you didn't think you'd get it done in one fell swoop
However, maybe you should've seen it coming since you both come from families that have had multiples
The possibility of this happening was decently high, so in a way, you're not all that surprised by the revelation
Once he's composed himself and is a little less ghostly pale in the face, he's eagerly requesting the technician to print out an excessive number of copies of the ultrasound
Why? Well, he's gotta send them to everyone, of course! His family, your family, all the lads at work. Hell, maybe your neighbor Charlie would like one too. Better print several just in case
Gaz
"C– Come again?" He thinks he misheard the technician at first
However, even hearing it a second time, he has to stand up, round the bed, and get about an inch away from the monitor to confirm for himself
It's almost comical the way his eyes widen at the screen, darting around the black and white image like he can't comprehend what he's seeing
It'll take some coaxing to get him back in his seat, and as he does, you hear him mumbling to himself – something about nappies, never sleeping again, and *shudders* University
At some point, out of the corner of your eye, you see him messing with his hands
He's putting his palm in front of his own stomach then drawing it about a foot or two away, as if trying to visualize the size your belly is destined to grow
Even when you get back home, it's like reality hasn't fully hit him yet
It's not until you find him at 2am looking up double decker prams that you realize it's finally starting to sink in, and he's more than ready for the challenge ahead
Price
Seems awfully calm when the technician breaks the news to you two
Based on his reaction – a light smile and mere "Oh, that's wonderful" – you'd think he'd just been informed of the weather or something
To be honest, his reaction (or lack thereof) is a little disarming, but you don't comment on it until you're buckling up in the car, mentioning his seeming total lack of nerves about the future
He chuckles and jokes that he already has to look after three big kids at work. What's five little ones at home to compare?
Though you think you can see what he's getting at, his cool-headedness about it all still has you in a bit of a tizzy
Is he not even a little surprised by the news? After all, it's not every day that people fall pregnant with quintuplets
At your question, he smiles and leans to press a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. When he pulls back, he's smirking, giving you the smuggest look you've ever seen from a man
"Told you I've got strong swimmers, love"
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angelsrcute · 11 days
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LOVE ME WHILE YOUR WRISTS ARE BOUND. 𝜗𝜚
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𝜗𝜚 — who'd lay their eyes on the prettiest person, you. Shining brighter than the others, and where do shiny and valuable things belong? in a box. According to a legend, sirens sing in a sweet voice to lure sailors into the water or just create chaos and destruction of their ships.
𝜗𝜚 — Who fell in love with you at first sight, wanting to possess you. So, while you were exploring a deserted island at night, you heard a sweet lullaby, a guy sitting on a rock. You couldn't help but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Such a captivating appearance, not like some monster– but very divine? You felt like something was messing with your brain.
𝜗𝜚 — You don't really remember why you're laying on the ground nor why you're getting fucked by someone. Shit, he's hot anyways, you wonder what happened to your ship. Legs thrown over their shoulders as they fuck you, you bet you wouldn't be able to walk straight tomorrow. Now that you think….why does the person look different as if they're not human at all. It's nothing, you think. You're worrying too much.
𝜗𝜚 — Who pepper kisses on your body, worshipping you like some treasure, fangs biting down on your skin, drawing blood. Ouch, their tongue licking up the blood, savouring your taste. Webbed hands digging into your waist.
𝜗𝜚 — Who fill you up so much that there's a visible bulge on your stomach, webbed hands pressing down, making you whimper. Your whole body feels numb. Their pretty mate, no one else's, a blush forming on their face at the thought of fucking a baby into you. You'd stay with them forever then!
𝜗𝜚 — Who's going to keep you in their little home, after all, humans are quite weak and die easily. You wouldn't be able to survive in the depths of the ocean. Well, who cares if they have to mess with your memories, making you think that you're their pretty little wife. You don't need anyone else but them right? The love of your life, perhaps you'd learn to love them without all these hallucinations. As for what happened to your ship, you're currently missing.
"Mine, my human, mine to love, I wouldn't let anyone else steal my treasure."
Whoever you think fits.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 8 months
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Practice On Me — Part Two — Azriel x Reader.
Summary: Azriel comes back for a little more practice. But this time, he wants to learn more than just kissing.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some violence, injury detail, mention of blood. Smut 🌶️ some touching and fingering 😏
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“Is that painful?”
“A little. Keep going.”
Rhysand’s hands are gentle when, a week later, you lay face-down on his couch, naked from the waist up. You wince as his fingers skate over jagged, poorly healed scars. You can picture the look on his face without needing to glimpse it; pursed lips and a furrowed brow and barely contained rage.
But he doesn’t let that rage seep into his hands as he smooths a pleasant, cooling salve into what remains of your wings. Which isn’t much.
“Sorry,” he murmurs at your slight jolt. “Almost done.”
There are very few people you will trust with touching your back. It’s too personal for you to visit the camp healer for such treatment, however trained and skilled he may be. But Rhysand—
“I swear to you, Y/N.” His voice is deep, stoic, warm breath fanning your shoulder. “When I’m High Lord, this will be outlawed. Females will not go through this under my rule.”
He promises it every single time he helps you with this. And he means it. Which is why you trust him implicitly with the act.
“I know.” You murmur against a couch cushion. “Thank you.”
“All done.”
As he wipes his hands on a rag, you ease yourself into a sitting position, clutching your shirt to your bare chest. As always, a crackling fire breathes heat into Rhysand’s mother’s home, and the feeling is pleasant, soothing.
“I haven’t seen your mother recently.” You mention, waiting for Rhys to turn around so you can slip your shirt on. It’s not that he hasn’t seen more private parts of your body over the years, nor that you particularly care, but he does you the courtesy, anyway. “Is she well?”
A soft, loving smile curls at his lips. “She is.” And then the smile widens into a full-blown grin. “My father wants her closer to home. She’s with child.”
“Seriously?” You blink, and then you’re throwing yourself at Rhys, sheer happiness and excitement filling you. “Rhys, that’s amazing. You’re going to have a brother or sister.”
“Sister, I hope.” He snorts, squeezing you, and yet also minding your still-bare back. “We need more girls around here.”
“Well, boy or girl, you’ll be the most incredible big brother. I just know it.”
And you absolutely do. Rhys has always been that sort of presence in your life; caring and loving and protective. Stern sometimes. A shoulder to cry on. A giver of warm, much-needed hugs.
You lean into one of those hugs now, not caring nor thinking about the fact that your top half is naked and pressing against him. That is, until the front door opens behind you, sweeping a gust of icy air indoors.
You turn just in time to see Azriel kick the snow from his boots. And then he pauses in the doorway, staring between you and Rhysand.
There’s been no mention of the kiss that night a week ago. Things haven’t been strange nor awkward. Just…normal. As if it never happened.
You’ve combed over it in your mind a little, though. Maybe more than a little.
“I told her the news.” Rhys announces, pulling away from you. A beaming grin still lights up his face.
Azriel’s mouth immediately tilts up, matching his enthusiasm as he smiles at you. “Exciting, isn’t it?”
“Oh, incredibly.” You shrug your shirt on. “I’m bound to get far more stimulating conversation from a newborn babe than I do from you three idiots.”
Rhys swats you and Azriel snorts, and then you’re pushing to your feet and heading towards the small kitchen area. “I’m making tea. Do either of you want some?”
“No, I’m heading out to visit my mother.” Rhys stands. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though.”
“Give her my love.” You tell him.
Azriel dips his head. “And mine.”
With a chipper goodbye, Rhys is dipping out of the cottage. Shutting the door behind him seals the heat inside once more, and already you have some soothing release from the pain in your upper back.
“Tea?” You offer again over your shoulder.
“Please.” Az approaches you from behind, stopping mere inches away to tie the strings at the back of your tunic. “Cass won’t be joining us. He ran into Sacha on the way here.”
You snort. Cassian’s most recent fling is coming up to a week-long stint, now. It won’t be long before cracks begin to show, and the whole thing is called off, and another female or male takes Sacha’s place. Rinse and repeat.
“I wonder which one of them will break it off. My money’s on Sacha.” You ladle a generous helping of sage tea into two cups and hand one to Az. “How are things with Kaeda?”
You can’t lie — you’ve wondered it a fair few times over the past week. Which is only natural, right? To question if the…help…that you gave Azriel was of any use. But so far, he hasn’t mentioned a damn thing.
He takes a long, pensive sip of his steaming drink. And then shrugs. “I’ve not really had the chance to see her.”
Immediately, you cock an eyebrow. Because Az seems to have had plenty of time for you and Rhys and Cass over the last seven days. Even spared one of those days to fly you to the local market to pick some things up for your father. It hasn’t been a particularly busy week for any of you — slow, even — and you’re almost positive he’s had a spare few minutes to land a kiss on his romantic interest.
Leaning your back against the wall, you shoot him a look. One that says, that’s not going to fly with me, Shadowsinger. “Wanna try that again?” You say. “The truth this time, please.”
He sighs, pressing back against the opposite wall. It must be so annoying for him that you can read him so well. Azriel doesn’t like being read. At all.
“I’m just…not confident enough yet. So, I’ve been avoiding her.” He admits. “I think I need more practice.”
You stare at him. Study him. You’re not sure if he’s implying what…what you think he might be implying. “You’re a good kisser, Az.” You tell him. “Trust me.”
The firm, truthful tone of your voice has his cheeks reddening slightly. He lowers his gaze to the floor. “But I don’t feel like one. And that’s the key to it all, isn’t it? Confidence. I’m just not there yet.”
Fair enough, you think. He’s not wrong. But the direction in which this seems to be going has your heart doing a strange, anticipatory flip in your chest.
“So…” You drag the word out. “Are you asking to practice on me again, or? Because I can totally steal one of the sparring dummies from the training ring and guide you that way—”
“Forget it.” He cuts your teasing off with a roll of his eyes.
“No, wait, I’m sorry.” You bite back a laugh. “I’m taking it seriously, I promise. Tell me what you need.”
He purses his lips, eyeing you for a long moment. You allow him to do so, even if it makes you feel a little naked.
“All I know,” he says, “is that I’m comfortable with you.”
The words are…strangely heavy. Vulnerable. He means them, and you know that, but they’re so weighty that for a moment, you can’t speak.
You suppose you’re so accustomed to your friendship with him — the familiarity and comfort of it — that you don’t think too often about how good it feels to be such a support for somebody. It makes you feel good. Useful. You want to always be able to help him like that.
So, you know you’d offer him anything, do anything he needs.
“If you need to practice on me some more, Az...” Your voice is strangely raspy. “I’m right here.”
He swallows. “But I don’t want it to seem like…like I’m using you.”
“It doesn’t.” It really doesn’t. You keep it to yourself that you need this in your own, little way. “I’d tell you if I felt like that.”
His eyes scan your face, and he seems satisfied with the truth that’s displayed there. He licks his lips and swallows and shifts from foot to foot. And then he says, simply, “Okay, then.”
And you guess this is happening right now, like it happened right then a week ago. So, you place your mug of tea on the counter and push away from the wall. Azriel does the same.
He steps a little closer. Pauses. “Do I need to do anything different to what I did before?”
“No.” You answer, probably a little too quickly. “No, you were great.”
He blushes again, and he seems to be fighting the urge to look away. But he maintains the eye contact like a champ and closes the space between you.
His scent, his warmth, is like a blanket that’s draped over you. You want to wrap yourself inside it, build a fort out of it, hide in it.
Azriel’s hands tremble as he lifts them to your face. He seemed to enjoy that last time — the feel of your skin beneath his. You enjoyed it, too. You tilt your head up just a little.
His thumb makes contact with your cheekbone, brushing a gentle sweep over the area. He leans down—
But then the door flies open, and a snow-covered, pissed off Cassian stomps in.
“Sacha and I are finished.” He announces, not seeming to notice yours and Azriel’s compromising position. “Let’s go to the mead hall.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
The mead hall is packed and noisy, exactly how Cassian wants it. He’s in a foul mood, and so a higher volume of people means he has a good choice of who to pick a fight with.
When he gets like this, there’s not really any stopping him.
Luckily, your father isn’t there tonight, so you’re comfortable sitting wedged between Az and Cass without his paranoid, judgemental stare. But you don’t want to be here — the males are too drunk and boisterous, and you seem to be one of very few females present. It makes their leering gazes far more apparent.
“It was a total misunderstanding.” Cassian says from beside you, leaning over you a little so that Az can hear, too. “Yes, I might have called her the wrong name—”
“I would have thrown you out on your ass, too.” You cut him off, rolling your eyes. “At least know the name of who you’re fucking before you dive between their legs.”
“I do know her name. I just got confused—”
He stops mid-sentence and looks up as, from behind, a pair of rough, meaty hands land on your shoulders and squeeze. You immediately recoil at the touch, turning to glimpse the mammoth of an Illyrian male whose name you think is Tanin. Not that you care.
He stinks of ale and sweat as he leans down and smells your hair. You tense. Cassian tenses. Azriel tenses.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Tanin slurs. “When are you going to let me dive between your legs?”
And there it is. Cassian’s excuse for a fight.
He’s out of his seat and on him quicker than you can even register, slamming Tanin down on the adjacent table amidst plates of food and goblets of ale. Blood goes flying as he pummels his fist into the bastard’s face, and then he’s grabbing a goblet of ale and pouring it over Tanin until he’s coughing and spluttering.
“How about you wash your filthy fucking mouth out?” Your friend snarls, diving in to land another punch. “Piece of shit.”
You turn to Azriel in mild alarm. Usually, he would have jumped in by now, pulled Cassian off before he can do too much damage. But the shadowsinger merely watches the affray with something akin to satisfaction on his face. You sigh in exasperation. This will quickly get out of hand.
“Cass.” You stand, reaching for your friend. “Cassian—”
But your voice is barely heard beneath all the yelling and jeering, and then Tanin is fighting back, landing a hit on Cassian so hard that he stumbles backwards — falls into you and knocks you to the floor, right amongst the gathering, boisterous males.
There’re feet everywhere in all directions, catching you in the side and stepping on your hand and knocking you back down whenever you try to get up. Suddenly, the fight is no longer between Cassian and Tanin. Males are punching each other for the sake of it, and more and more of them join in, not even knowing why they’re brawling. It’s the Illyrian pastime.
Just before another foot can swing into you, you’re aware of strong arms lifting you and plucking you straight from the centre of the chaos. Azriel shoves a drunken lout who backs into you, and then he’s dragging you away, his eyes fierce and blazing.
“You’re alright?” He asks over the shouting, his gaze roving your dirtied, creased tunic.
Your hand is throbbing from being stepped on, but the ache is already dulling. You nod. “I’m fine. Where is Cass?”
“Here.” Cassian suddenly appears behind you. His hair has mostly escaped the knot he’d tied it into, and his lip is badly split, blood gushing down his chin. He spits some onto the floor, and his words are thick and almost unintelligible as he cups his mouth and says, “Pieth of thit got me good.”
You scowl, knocking his hand away to grip his chin. “Serves you right. That fight was completely unnecessary.”
“I dithagree.” His eyes glitter, but then he grimaces and pulls away to spit more blood out. “Dammit. I think I need thitches.”
He definitely does. The gash in his lip is deep and pouring. And with the fight still merrily going on around you, it won’t be long before someone tries to drag him back into it. And Cass will happily oblige.
“Go to the healer and get that seen to.” Azriel tells him, not unlike a stern parent. He grips him by the shoulder and steers him out of the door, dragging you with him by the other hand. “And then sober up. I’m taking Y/N home.”
“And apologise to Sacha.” You add.
Cassian grumbles, but the fact that he doesn’t protest is a positive. He can sometimes be so stubborn that it makes you want to split his lip yourself. It would seem he’s had enough drama for one night.
“Fine.” He spits blood onto the dirt path. “Maybe Satha will take pithy on me.”
The fact that neither you nor Az agree is downright hilarious. But nor do you correct Cassian’s drunken, skewed thinking. Nights like these are a common occurrence, and to some degree, you just have to let your friend get on with it.
Cass turns, and you catch him quickly by the hand. “Thank you.” You tell him, because he was defending your honour, after all. “Love you.”
He grins a bloody grin, and then winces as it tugs at the wound. “Loveyouthoo, thweetpea.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・ You don’t feel like going home and facing your father tonight, and with Rhysand’s mother’s cottage at your disposal, you don’t have to. It’s not unusual for you to spend nights away from home; usually he doesn’t care enough to even question it. But if he does, you always tell him the same thing — you spent the night with one of your many female friends. No males present. Such a little liar, you are.
But you’re content with that lie as you sink into the couch, your eyes flicking over to Azriel in the kitchen. He stirs a cup of tea silently, pensive as always. He’s asked about your wellbeing at least seven times since you stepped through the door.
You’re fine, you’ve answered each time, and it’s true. With him, you’re always fine. It doesn’t stop him worrying, though.
His footsteps thud against the floor as he approaches you, and he holds out a steaming mug. “Drink this. I put plenty of honey in it.”
Your lips twitch into a fond smile, and you accept it, taking a warm sip. “I was on the floor for a matter of seconds, Az. I have a bruised hand, that’s all.”
He knows this, of course, but trying to get him to stop fussing would be like beating a dead horse, and you really don’t mind being taken care of, anyway. Azriel settles into the space beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. You lean into his side.
For a few moments, it’s comfortably silent. And then he snorts softly. “Cassian’s going to have a hard time apologising to Sacha when he can barely form a legible sentence.”
You laugh, tipping your head back against his shoulder. “Maybe she really will take pity on him.”
“If only she’d been there to witness his gallant display of coming to your defence. It might have impressed her.”
“Or put her off him for good.”
“The heartbreak would drive him into someone’s bed, I’m sure.”
The two of you share another laugh, and then silence blankets the small cottage. You’re always content like this, just…existing with Azriel. No need to be a certain way or do a certain thing, like you have to in your own home. With your closest friends, you have the freedom of being yourself unapologetically.
You finish your drink, and then Az is pulling you down with him, his wing draping around you. You’ve fallen asleep like this countless times — with all three of your friends at least once — and it’s one of the few places you feel truly safe.
But as you lie there, basking in Azriel’s warmth, your eyes don’t grow heavy. Rather, they continuously creep over to that spot in the kitchen you stood in with Az earlier, your bodies inches from each other, your lips very nearly meeting but not quite touching thanks to Cassian’s abrupt arrival.
A strange sense of disappointment hits you. Disappointment that you didn’t get to feel that heated kiss a second time.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” you murmur, knowing Azriel is just as awake as you are. “That we got interrupted.”
He turns his face slightly, chin brushing the top of your head. “It’s not your fault that Cassian has terrible timing.”
Your shoulders shake as you give a little laugh. No, no it isn’t. But amongst your disappointment — which is selfish, really, because the kiss was never for your sake —you feel guilt, also. Guilt that you didn’t get to help Az, despite that being what he needed.
You tip your head back enough to look up at him. “I’m still happy to help, you know. The offer is still there.”
For a couple of seconds, he merely stares down at you. His fingers absentmindedly twiddle a strand of your hair. And then he says, a hue of pink colouring his cheeks, “I still need the help.”
And in that moment, he looks so genuinely perturbed by his own inexperience that you can’t bear it. You’ll do anything, say anything, to put him at ease. To help him realise that these things are different for everyone. There’s no time frame he should be keeping to. Twenty years of age or thirty or forty or fifty, he could have come to you with these things worrying his thoughts, and there would never be any judgement. Only understanding. Only what he needs.
So, you slowly sit up, folding your legs beneath you and turning so that you’re facing him. “Would you like to practice now?”
He eyes you and swallows. And then he nods. “I would.”
You offer him a reassuring smile. “Come here, then.”
Just as you had, he pushes himself up into a sitting position. You can tell he’s tense by the way his wings fall about him; his shoulders squared. You reach for his hand and squeeze it gently.
“We already did this once, Az.” You remind him. “Just do what you did before.”
He nods — more to himself than to you. And then he’s scooting closer. His palm settles at your jaw.
He doesn’t go in for the kiss immediately. You allow him to do whatever he needs to do, whatever feels right. He seems content, for the time being, with dancing his fingers over the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck and the shell of your ear. His hand, scarred and callused, climbs and falls, explores each area with rapt attention. He takes note at the way your eyes momentarily flutter closed — an inadvertent reaction to his fingers skating over the pulse point of your throat.
“Is that pleasant?” His voice is deep, husky.
“For me, yes.” You clear your throat. “But I suppose not for everyone. Everybody has sensitive areas. That’s one of mine.”
You’re shamefully disappointed when, after a moment, his hand moves back up. It finds its place at your jaw again, and Az cups your cheek.
“Okay,” he whispers, and leans in.
There’s no chance for you to utter a word as he dips his head and presses his lips to yours. This time, there’s no quick, chaste peck to test the waters. Azriel dives straight in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that robs the breath straight from your lungs.
His mouth paws at yours, and you give yourself to the sensation, submitting fully to the practice. You want Azriel to take what he needs — to get a desired result from this — but as you kiss him back, you can’t help noticing the stiff, tense set of his body.
He’s not relaxed, not at all, and it shows. Something about this is bothering him, holding him back. Nerves, probably. Maybe even second thoughts. Whatever it is, you want him to communicate it, be honest about it.
So as much as you really, really don’t want to, you pull away, your face hovering a mere hair’s-breadth from Azriel’s. He seems to blink, and he licks his lips and stares at you with unguarded concern in his eyes. You know he’s already thinking a million things at once, wondering if he put a foot wrong.
“What is it?” You ask, making a grab for his hand. “You’re…tense. This is no different to what we did last week.”
Your friend stares back at you, conflict a war on his face. And for a split second, you start to think that he is having doubts, that he’s regretting having gone along with this.
And that…that would hurt. You’d understand, of course, because he’s your friend, and this is simply about helping him — but it would definitely hurt.
You don’t want to think too much about why that might be.
Rejection is never pleasant, you suppose.
“Az…” you chew your lower lip. “You can tell me. Whatever it is. If you want to stop this and just…talk…or do nothing at all…then that’s fine, too—”
“Kissing isn’t the only thing I’ve never done.”
The words leave him in such an abrupt gust that you’re stunned into silence.
You stare at him wordlessly.
Of course, it’s not that you haven’t considered that over the past seven days. Up until a week ago, you’d simply assumed that Azriel must have had a whole wealth of experience when it came to kissing people. And you’d turned out to be wrong. It wasn’t unusual to question whether there was more you didn’t know.
But you also knew perfectly well that sex didn’t require kissing. Az could have slept with a whole host of different people, and yet chosen — for whatever reason — to not kiss a single one of them.  He could have built up knowledge and experience in plenty of other areas without ever having explored what many would consider to be the first step.
You’d considered that Azriel might not have any sexual experience. And then you’d surmised that he most likely had.
That, it would seem, is not the case.
He looks more uncomfortable than ever, lowering his gaze and rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand. You want to tell him that none of that matters, that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but the words simply will not come.
“I’m just…completely inexperienced. In every way.” He admits gravelly. “I’ve come close to doing things, but…I always overthink it. I don’t know how any of this is supposed to…to progress.”
Makes sense. It’s a daunting thing to explore, and even more so when you don’t trust easily. It’s perfectly reasonable that Az has protected himself from that pressure.
“Have you…” You clear your throat, desperate to make sure you’re handling this correctly, decently. “Have you ever done anything at all?”
His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m completely well-versed where my own pleasure is concerned, Y/N, trust me. It’s with another person that I have no fucking clue.”
Right. Got it.
Swallowing down a ridiculously huge lump in your throat, you give a slow, pensive nod. “Alright. Well…these things just…evolve naturally. One thing leads to another. The absolute worst thing you can do — with kissing or anything else — is overthink it. Do that, and it’s over before it begins. You just…follow your body’s lead and do what feels natural.”
Good fucking advice, if you do say so yourself. Azriel’s still-unsure expression is the only thing that stops you from giving yourself a well-earned pat on the back.
“Right. Follow my body’s lead.” Az sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. He clears his throat. “Can we continue?”
“If you want to continue, Az, we’ll continue.”
A small, soft smile lifts his lips, and it melts your heart a little. He’s genuinely grateful for your patience and understanding; you wonder if he truly knows that you’d give him, his kind heart, the entire world if you could.
But before you can sink too far into your mushy thoughts, Azriel’s hands are at your face once more, and he’s angling it up towards him.
You wait. Allow him to make the first move. He does.
He kisses you like your lips might disappear before his very eyes if he doesn’t. His mouth slants over yours, and that coiled tension is no longer making his body rigid and unnatural. He’s heeding your advice, relaxing into it, and this time, he doesn’t hold back.
His thumb sweeps your cheek, and his tongue sweeps your lip, and you’re opening up for him, allowing him to slip it inside to meet yours. At once, his taste is overpowering you, mixed in a little with the mulled wine he drank at the mead hall. It’s a song to your senses, and you’re desperate to hear it, feel it, from start to finish.
Perhaps that’s why you’re not really aware of the way your bodies move. Az is shifting on the couch and so are you, and while one of his hands remains at your face, the other moves down and slides gently to the scars on your back. It seems, for a moment, that he might tug you closer, but in one swift movement, he’s laying you down, and he’s tucked between your legs and hovering over you so closely. He cushions the remains of your wings, always concerned about your comfort.
Kissing him like this feels wildly different to kissing him sat up. It feels…intense and yet tender. Fast and yet slow. Like this could go anywhere and everywhere all at once. And part of you wonders if it should go nowhere. Perhaps you should stop. Helping Azriel gain confidence is one thing, but he’s your closest friend, and never before have you had your closest friend more or less lying on top of you, his body moving against you, while his mouth dances over yours.
Bizarre, really.
But you still continue to kiss him back.
Your hand moves up to cup the back of his neck, and you kiss him harder, graze your tongue over his lower lip—
He pulls his face away from you abruptly. Perhaps that was a step too far—
But something in the way he stares down at you, panting heavily, tells you it wasn’t.
“Where do you like to be touched?” He asks you, so gutturally that the words vibrate through you.
And they damn well catch you off guard.
You blink up at him, flustered, not sure you heard right. “I…what?”
Azriel then licks his lips. “I mean…where do you think Kaeda would like to be touched?”
Kaeda.
You’d forgotten about her. The reason that Az is even kissing you in the first place. Because he wants to be good for her.
The thought stings a little. You try to shake it off. “That…that’s something you’ll have to learn from Kaeda herself.”
He stares back at you. Studies your face. And he looks so…so genuinely daunted, that you search for something, anything, to put him at ease.
“But me…” You clear your throat. “I like to be touched in lots of places.”
He’s still staring at you in that strange, intense way. After a beat, he asks, “Will you show me?”
It’s your turn to stare at him then. You’re starting to think that perhaps the world has been turned on its head. You and Azriel, to each other, are familiarity and comfort. You’ve seen each other at your best and at your worst, been there for some damn near humiliating circumstances. This is the male who has bathed the blood of your own cycle from your skin and held your hair back when the cramps have turned your stomach. He’s listened to some of your most embarrassing stories without humour or judgement; just understanding. To him, you are an old, well-worn, well-loved pair of boots.
And he wants you to show him how to touch.
Never, under a million fucking sunrises, could you have predicted this would happen between you.
But you’re not recoiling from the request. You’re just…surprised. You’re not balking from it, nor running out of there screaming.
Nor has Azriel ever balked when you’ve asked for his help, his guidance. Not once.
You angle your body up slightly, just to get a better look at him. And you study him a moment longer. “…Az, are you…”
“I know what I’m asking, Y/N, and I’m sure.” He says without pause. “Show me how a female should be touched.”
Suddenly, you feel like the nervous, inexperienced one. You can totally say no, of course — Azriel would put a stop to it immediately if you did. But you don’t want to.
You want to do this. Want to help.
Your hand cups the back of his neck once more, and then you’re tugging his face down, pulling his mouth onto yours.
The kiss starts out slow and soft. There will be no rushing this for either of you. It’s an exploration, a way to trace the maps of each other’s mouths. You’re both desperate to know more, feel more, before this goes any further.
So, you follow your own advice. You told Azriel to trust in his body, follow its lead, and you now do the same. You want this to progress naturally, like…like it isn’t a transaction. Isn’t something that you agreed on beforehand.
There is no breaking from the kiss this time, even when you’re panting into each other’s mouths. Azriel’s hand is firm and pleasant at your jaw, and your tongues are intertwined, and you’re kissing like you want this specifically with each other. A fact you will not ruminate on,
You nip gently at Azriel’s lip, and this time, he does not pull away. He hums quietly — seemingly unaware of doing so — and applies a little pressure to your mouth. Kisses you harder.
And it’s then — then that you reach for the hand that’s settled at your jaw. You curl your fingers around Azriel’s wrist, and slowly, you drag that hand down.
You think you might be shaking a little, but you don’t give the nerves too much thought. Azriel allows you to guide him. His fingers brush over your neck, content to explore the soft skin there, but you keep that hand moving. The warmth of his palm permeates the fabric of your tunic, and the feeling is pleasant against your chest.
When you finally close his hand over the swell of your breast, you break away just to whisper onto his mouth, “I like being touched here.”
Azriel’s eyes bore into yours, heated and blazing. He swallows.
Clothed you might be, but there’s no undergarment between your shirt and your breast. The weight of Azriel’s hand falls heavy over the swell, and there may as well be no barrier of clothing with how delicious it feels.
His gaze remains on yours as he cups you in his palm. And then his thumb inches in, grazing over your nipple. You suck in a short breath at the contact, your back arching a little.
Azriel pauses. “Is…is this okay?”
“Yes,” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s more than okay, Az.”
A soft smile appears on his lips. You smother it with yours, pulling his face closer once more. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to kiss him again, or what you’re supposed to do amidst any of this, but it feels like the right thing.
This time, there’s no hesitation. Your kiss is hot and needy, and you find yourself bunching the fabric of Azriel’s shirt in your fist as he begins to more confidently explore your breasts.
He squeezes them, palms at them, traces the turgid peaks of your nipples, and you happily arch into it all. But then, without any guidance from you, his hand is leaving your breasts. Travelling down.
And you don’t breathe a word. You figure if he has a question, needs direction, he’ll ask. You kiss him as if you were always made for kissing him, and his fingers are dancing over your stomach, down and down.
“What…” he tugs his lips from yours, his fingers now at the waistband of your breeches, “what about here? Do you like being touched here?”
You stare up at him. And you’re supposed to be guiding him, aren’t you? So, panting, you fold your hand over his and move it down. Away from the waistband. Between your legs.
You fold his hand over the very centre of you. And you wonder if he can feel your heat through your breeches. It feels blazing to you, and torturously so. Like a fire has been lit between your thighs. You’re growing wetter by the second, and your scent must be filling the room.
“Here.” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s deep, smoky. “Right here.”
Azriel watches you closely. Watches your face as he applies pressure to your heat. His thumb presses down.
And you’re not thinking about his intense stare as a soft moan falls from your mouth. Your brow is furrowed, lips parted, and you want more.
“There?” The shadowsinger murmurs, repeating the action. Your moan is louder this time.
“Can you…” Already, you’re panting, but he’s not…not close enough. You grab his hand again, and you’re moving it back to your waistband. To the button on your breeches.
His eyes meet yours. He doesn’t need to be experienced to know what you’re asking from him. Sure, he could probably do this through your clothing, but surely skin-to-skin is better for his experience.
That’s what your selfish mind is telling you, anyway.
“You don’t mind?” Az asks. “I appreciate your help, but…I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything—”
“Azriel.” You clasp the back of his neck. “I really, really do not mind.”
For him, it will always be about making sure that you’re positive.
Your needy expression must tell him that you are.
You capture his mouth with yours, and this time, the moan comes from him. Kissing seems second-nature to him already. This one is fast and passionate and desperate, and yet he leans into it, gives himself to it entirely.
You don’t know how long you kiss for, but it’s possible that Az needs the time to build up to the moment. To get the nerve to actually cross that line.
You don’t push him or rush him. If he decides that this can’t go any further, you’ll stop immediately. You can see to the ache between your legs yourself.
But then, as his tongue rolls with yours, you feel his fingers at that button. Azriel pops it open. Your breeches part.
You lift your hips a little — a small encouragement. Az follows it. His touch is warm against your skin. His fingers slip past the waistband.
He pulls back to look at you. And he rasps, “Tell me what to do.”
“You can’t do anything wrong,” you pant. “Just…explore.”
He nods. Nods again. Draws in a slow, steeling breath.
And then he explores.
Not once does he look away from you. Not once, as his fingers slip between your folds. You bite down on your lip, not wanting to startle him. This is about him. This is about him.
His fingers dip tentatively through your damp heat. He drags them upwards, drenching himself with your wetness.
“You’re soaked…” He seems surprised by the fact. As though it’s unthinkable that your body would react in such a way to him. He explores more. “Really soaked.”
“Yes, Az.” You breathe. “That’s a good thing, trust me.”
He pauses his movements. And he’s entirely serious as he says, “I always trust you.”
And fuck, the sentiment makes you want to kiss him again, so you do. You yank him closer and slide your mouth onto his, and then his fingers are moving between your folds again.
They inch upwards with ease. And then one of those fingers is brushing over your clit.
You have no control over the way your hips jerk, bucking up into Azriel’s touch, or over the noise that rips from your throat.
Azriel pulls back to study you yet again. And repeats the action with more intent. “There?” He asks, and then adds, “Your scent reminds me of…of pears.”
“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, but yes, gods, there.”
Once more, his finger presses against your clit, and you’re gasping. His head cocks slightly, like he’s genuinely intrigued by your reaction. He watches you closely as he begins to circle the sensitive little nub.
You’re not wholly aware of the fact that you’re tipping your head back — not until Azriel is guiding it forward with his free hand and fastening your eyes on his once again.
“Can you look at me?” He clears his throat. “I just—want you to look at me.”
You swallow, and you nod. And you stay looking at him.
Even as his finger circles your clit again, and you feel the sensation like a lightning bolt through your entire body.
The pleasure is shocking. Your hips buck up into the sensation, and it seems to reward Azriel with confidence. His hand moves into a steady rhythm, his palm seeming to cup you and rub against you as his finger works at your clit.
You will not last like this. You never do. The stimulation is far too much, and you’re writhing beneath him, already feeling that tight, warm coiling in your lower belly — the sign of imminent release.
“Fuck,” you pant, rocking against Azriel’s hand. “Gods, Az, I’m gonna—”
Your words are lost, swallowed by his mouth closing over yours. Azriel kisses you, and he begins to move his finger in quick, flicking movements, and you’re gone, gone, utterly fucking gone, your body a swirling, weightless form as stars burst behind your eyelids.
The climax hits you so thoroughly that you shout into Azriel’s mouth, and you're grabbing at his shirt, simply needing to hold onto something as your hips undulate, desperate for more of the sensations he’s wringing from you and yet so incredibly sensitive that your body is already beginning to tremble.
And the second Azriel notices that you’re shaking, slumping back down against the couch cushions, his fingers cease their movements. He tears his mouth from yours and drinks in your expression.
“Are you okay?” He breathes heavily. “Was that…good?”
Good did not come close to describing what it was. There’s something magic about those fingers that still linger between your folds. You’re sure of it.
“More than good.” You gasp, your head falling back. “I just…need a moment.”
He pauses, before slowly, gently, tugging his hand out of your breeches. You think a whimper leaves you at the loss of contact. It’s an effort not to grab his hand and put it right back where you want it.
But instead, Azriel moves it up to your face. He brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, and his chest is heaving as much as yours as he leans down and brushes his lips over your cheek — an affectionate gesture. One he’s done a thousand times before.
It kind of…rips you from the moment, just a little. Reminds you that this is your closest friend who’s hovering above you. Who’s just made you come so hard, you saw stars. Who’s only doing this to learn.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure — but you’re stopped in your tracks by the door bursting open behind you.
You and Azriel move away from each other just as Cassian waltzes in. His lip is stitched up, but there are fresh marks at his neck; ones he seems incredibly proud of. You quickly fasten the button on your breeches before he can notice.
“Sacha and I worked things out.” He announces with a shit-eating grin. And then he pauses. Frowns. “Why does it smell like pears in here?”
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azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden
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Text
Shameless porn of my Tav and Halsin some undisclosed amount of time after the end of the game.
Afab Tav getting a taste of Halsin’s rare dominant side and learning what happens to druids who spend too much time in wildshape
Just under 2k words
(I am a lazy human who writes fic in the notes app of their phone, please excuse dumb mistakes and minimal editing at times)
—————-
The first traces of dawn slip through the window as you were roused from your meditation. You feel Halsin’s hand glide down your side and come to a rest on your hip before pulling your hips firmly back into his.
While Halsin was always fairly forward about sex, the past few days especially had been something. It was not uncommon for one of you to approach the other just about everyday over it, but this was borderline excessive even for him.
Your thighs ached from straddling him many times the last couple days, or from wrapping them around his hips as he fucked you against the wall. It was not really a complaint, nor something you cared to stop, but it was an unexplained change in Halsin.
Even early in the morning, just after meditating, he was ready to go again.
“My heart” he sighs in you ear, “how is it possible that I want you more every day? Every time I lay eyes on you, you’re more beautiful than I remember. It overcomes me and I just need to hear you, taste you, experience you”.
You feel his erection pressing on your backside as he slowly grinds against you. His hand that rested on you hip sliding down to now sit just under your belly button, waiting on an invitation to move lower.
“My heart, how are you not tired or sore?” you ask, half joking and half truly wondering where this drive suddenly came from.
~
It started three days ago. While bending down to put away a few things in the kitchen in a low cabinet he swept up behind you, grabbing your hips with such force he nearly yanked you off your feet. “Such gorgeous hips” he murmured in your ear, his massive torso bent over yours, dwarfing you entirely “I need you. Now” he growled in your ear.
It was more worked up then you had ever seen him, his whole body heaved with every breath and word and his hands dug into your hips with clear intent.
“Then take me” you replied.
Halsin did not waste a moment. He swiftly hooked a finger into the waist of your pants and pulled them along with your underwear down in one fluid motion. One rough hand immediately slipped down your front between your legs to find your clit and begin rubbing it while the other found your breast. You felt the tip of his shaft seeking entrance to you and you rose to your tip toes to make it easier. He quickly found the entry he craved and sank his full length into you, causing you to bite back a yelp. Halsin was large in every aspect of his being, from his physical size, to his personality, to his emotions, to his cock and right now without any sort of warmup you were especially reminded of that.
This was much rougher than his usual self. Halsin usually preferred things on the firmer side, as did you, neither of you were exactly fragile and pushing limits had its fun, but this was something else all together. From the beginning his pace was brisk, a sort desperation to his movements as if he felt like he was going to explode if he did not have you right then and there. And you and never been so aroused.
You let out a moan as you relaxed and adjusted to him, letting do as he wished and enjoying his sudden forwardness. The moan seemed to spur him on, pushing him to thrust even deeper now that you had relaxed enough to fully accept his length and it felt incredible.
“Gods you feel so good, fuck” you moaned and swore he felt larger than previous times.
Halsin was very much a man of give and take, of slow methodical pleasure. This however, was more base, almost instinctual feeling in comparison.
His breath was heavy in you ear, a strong departure from his usual verbosity. Where he typically sung your praises instead you were met with growls and panting.
You were shoved into the cabinet over the course of his thrusting, the edge of the counter digging into your hips, Halsin’s torso flush against your back was keeping you pinned against the furniture, preventing you from moving, not that you wanted to be anywhere else. He kept his pace steady as he rubbed your clit and his teeth found the side of your neck, biting harder than he normally did, his nails dug into your breast where his hand was pinned between you and the counter.
Breathing was difficult from his weight pressing down on you, but it only seemed to intensify everything. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you felt yourself getting close, every stroke filling you fully and pushing you to the edge. A wordless whine crept into your voice mixed with short gasps, you did not know how much more you could take, but you wanted this to last as long as possible.
This directness from him, the lust, the dominance, it was such a different side of him. Before Halsin, you had been the dominant one in all your encounters, then with Halsin while you swapped who was in the lead you would not say either of you was truly dominant. This though? This reminded you of an animal in heat; intense, rough, not just a want but a visceral need driven by something subconscious. Being desired so carnally, at such a base level lit a fire in your belly in a way few other things ever had.
Your finish washed over you, an intense buzz that started between your legs and dispersed through every inch of your body. You howled and panted his name like you never had before.
Halsin continued his relentless pace and pulled you closer to him even. His breathing was ragged and hot on you neck and you were suddenly acutely aware of how small you felt compared to him as you basked in the afterglow and tried to catch your breath.
“Fuck me full” you told him, “make me feel every last drop”.
This seemed to put him over the edge, he pumped into you hard, nearly enough to knock the breath out of you and moaned loudly.
You did feel it, every drop flooding into you and dripping down your leg, every twitch of his cock as he met his release. Halsin remained in you, gasping for air and coming back down to the ground.
Air flooded your lungs as he leaned his weight off you and his kisses peppered your back and shoulders. You straightened yourself out and assessed the state you were in: bruises marked your hips where you were bent over the counter, nail marks dug into your breast, and you were certain you had bite marks on your neck. Not that any of it mattered, you loved seeing his marks on your body.
“I’m not complaining, but that was… intense” you broke the silence.
“I’m sorry my love, I just needed you so badly” he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Oh don’t apologize, it was incredible. I didn’t know you ever got like that. You were so dominant, so, I don’t know? Instinctual? I don’t know if that’s the right word but I have never been so turned on”.
“Oh!” He said in surprise, “well, in that case, I can definitely promise you more”.
~
Over the next 3 days it continued much the same. Any time you bent over, or showed much skin, or really did much of anything there was Halsin, begging you to let him fuck you. Every ask was tinged with heavy desperation and lust previously unknown to you, and the moment you let him it was a torrid of rough sex in the first position he could get you in.
You lay there now in bed, naked with his cock pressed against your backside. Your legs are sore, your back is sore, every bit of you inside and out is on the verge of raw.
“My love, my heart, I am loving all of this but I concede, I can’t keep up. What’s come over you?” you ask.
“Come over me? No this is pretty normal for now” he answers.
“Normal? For now?” you ask again.
“Yes, this time of year is typically mating season for bears” he said matter of factly, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.
“You aren’t a bear”.
“No, but you spend enough time as one and the instincts start to stick around afterwards”.
At this point you could not tell if he was serious or not. The whole thing was so matter of fact, but you had never heard anything about wildshape affecting a Druid like that.
You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts before beginning “Alright, so, right now you-“
“Want to fuck you against every surface in this house and surrounding forest until my scent covers every inch of you and you’re carrying our child. If you’ll let me”.
“And you remember that that’s not possible right? Even long before I met you I’ve been too stabbed and banged up to ever be able to carry a child. Something I’ve told you and that you said that you were alright with”.
“I’m aware, but instinct is instinct and I’m more that happy to try. Especially if that means we’ll just try forever”.
That answer satisfied you.
“I can be happy with that. But one last thing my love”.
“Anything. Say the word and there’s no length I wouldn’t go to fulfill your wish”.
“Find some positions that don’t hurt my thighs so much. Because if you pin me to the wall again there’s no way my legs are going to hold out”.
Halsin let out a deep laugh, a true and joyous laugh. “My love! I wished you had said something sooner! My thinking isn’t the clearest right now but if I had known-“ out of the corner of your eye you saw the gentle warm glow of healing magic as the hand that had been resting just under your bellybutton moved to your sore legs, “I would have helped with that”.
Much of the soreness and ache recedes as the soft glow fades.
“Actually one more thing, there’s been a few times I’ve been a little raw- uh- inside from all of this. Is there anything that can be done…?” you trail off.
“Yes! There are a few things I can make, perhaps a salve that provides some extra lubrication and maybe something a bit cooling feeling? I could do that, would that work?”
“I think so, and I’d be more than happy to try at any rate”
You feel him press your hips back against his and the throb of his still erect cock on your skin.
“Out of bed. Now. Salve first, trying to breed me after”.
Halsin sighs, not like he could complain about anything. He stumbles a bit as he attempts to pull his pants on, any attempt at salve making would require getting ingredients from the forest and town, and one of those requires pants.
“And love!” you call as he walks out the door, “If that salve works and you keep me from being so sore I’ll start wearing a shorter dress around the house with no panties, or maybe just nothing at all. I’ll give you blanket permission for the season to fuck me whenever you want, like nature intended”.
You had never seen Halsin move so fast to go get the shopping done.
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evilminji · 2 months
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Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>
@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.
But!
I seek your Knowledge(TM).
From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.
Fuck um.
He was tired of it.
But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.
It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.
If No, fuck off.
If Yes, new monarch.
Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?
He can't even get rid of it!
......by himself.
Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.
It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.
God he's so tired.
It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.
He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?
Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.
Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.
Cause none of it's his.
All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.
And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.
Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.
He's so tired.
The nightclub's pretty cool.
So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?
And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?
Halfa.
I have no idea what that is. What do you want?
He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?
Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.
Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.
He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.
Lucifer can't help notice the crown.
Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?
And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.
Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.
.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.
He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.
He can sleep on the couch.
Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.
And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.
Ah.
.....well shit.
(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.
Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?
No one knooooows~
But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)
(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
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aftershocks
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barça x reader
r tries to recover from the accident. it isn't as easy as she anticipates.
cw: panic attack, nightmares.
-----
Alexia was hovering. You'd been home for barely 2 hours, and she was sitting next to you, staring at you as you watched your allowed hour of TV, as if she was going to have to pick you up and take you back to the hospital at a moments notice. Her shoes were still on, her keys in her pocket. You knew was nervous and worried, but you wanted to not feel like a patient. Not when you were finally home. Well, at Alexia's home. Which had been yours before, and would, evidently be it again.
You shifted slightly, and your arm gave a twinge of pain at the movement. You winced unconsciously, barely noticing. Everything hurt, pretty much all the time; this was not anything special.
"What is it?" Alexia asked, sitting forward. She looked panicked, almost, and you had to remind yourself that she had seen you right after the accident. She was traumatized, and she was just looking out for you.
"I'm okay, Ale." You assured her.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
She somewhat relaxed back into the couch, though she still looked ready to leap to her feet at a moments notice. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time, feeling only relief when you noticed that it was an appropriate time to go to bed. You were exhausted from the short car ride home from the hospital, and you were also exhausted of being in the presence of people. You loved your teammates, and the nurses and doctors had been incredibly, but you hadn't had a single second to yourself since the accident, and you were dying to just sit. In silence. By yourself.
You stood up, slowly, almost amused by the way Alexia got to her feet right away as well.
"I'm gonna go to bed, Ale, I'm exhausted."
"Good, you need rest. Cariño, do you need help with anything?" You appreciated that she'd asked, instead of just trying to help you.
"Maybe up the stairs, but I'm good from there." You said quietly. You were not, nor had you ever been, good at asking for help. You had to learn, and fast, because you were pretty sure getting up the stairs by yourself was an almost impossible feat.
Alexia smiled encouragingly at you, proud that you'd asked for what you needed, and hadn't just shook off her request for help like she'd expected.
You made your way to the stairs, and Alexia wrapped a careful arm around your back, making sure to avoid your ribs, and your bad arm, and also the bruises that littered most of your abdomen. There were very few places you could be touched right now without feeling pain, and even then, you just had to grit your teeth and get through it if you wanted to be able to move anywhere.
By the time you got to your bed, clinging onto Alexia when she moved to let you go at the top of the stairs, you were sweating a bit, and breathing deeply through the waves of throbbing aches washing over you.
You sat on the edge of the bed, waiting until the waves had subsided somewhat before looking up again. Alexia stood in front of you, and if you didn't know better, you would have thought that she was the only with broken bones by the look on her face, like she was feeling everything you were feeling.
"I'm alright, Ale."
"You should have slept on the couch, the stairs are too much for you. Or maybe you should have stayed with Lucy, or Ingrid and Mapi, they're all on one floor. Maybe tomorrow we can-" Alexia's word flew out of her mouth fast, and you could barely understand what she was saying.
"No. I want to be here. Please." You said, feeling embarrassment grip you tightly at how pathetic you sounded.
"Okay, pequeña." Alexia said easily, although the worry lines on her forehead didn't relent.
She got out your pajamas for you handing them over, before hovering anxiously at your side.
"I've got it Alexia, I promise."
"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'll be back in a couple to bring you some ice." With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her. You managed to change by yourself, for the most part. You your athletic shorts off, and the pajama shorts on fine, giving the large bandage covering almost the entirety of the outside of your left leg a wide birth. You got the shirt off too, carefully removing your arm from it's sling, and doing your best to jostle your abdomen as little as possible as you pulled the shirt up and over your head.
It hurt. A lot. Something so simple, and you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You wanted to lay down, or lean over, or do anything to relax your body a little, but you couldn't do any of those things without help, or else your ribs protested heavily. You gritted your teeth, getting the shirt over your head. You couldn't get it on the rest of the way, though. You would have to wait for Alexia. You were wearing a sports bra, though, so you wouldn't be completely humiliated.
You would be slightly humiliated though. There were tears welling in your eyes, and your shirt hung pathetically around your neck. You sniffled every time you inhaled, and you felt so useless. You couldn't even get your shirt on by yourself. You were frustrated beyond belief, and you couldn't do anything about it because doing anything hurt.
Alexia returned, knocking softly on the door.
"Come in," you said, voice cracking on the last word, much to your dismay.
Alexia walked in cautiously, hearing the motion in your voice.
"I need help." You said, sounding rather dejected.
"That's okay," Alexia said, moving to your side. She tugged the shirt over your arms, carefully. "Anything else?"
"I just want to go to sleep." You admitted. Alexia nodded earnestly, helping you to recline back onto the pillows. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to you. Once you were settled, she placed an ice pack on your ribs, made you drink some water and take some pills, before brushing the hair off your forehead.
"Thanks, Ale." You mumbled.
"Of course. It's going to get easier, pequeña, I promise."
"Yeah." You didn't sound convinced.
Alexia's face lit up after a second.
"I know what will make you feel better!" She got up, rifling through the bags of your stuff on the ground. She found what she was looking for, standing and holding it up with a ridiculous grin. It was your stuffed blue dinosaur, the one you'd slept with since you were a baby. The team always made fun of you because you brought him with you on away trips, until you'd gotten so tired of the teasing, you started leaving him at home.
You slept better with him, though, as ridiculous as it sounded, and you made a mental note to thank Ingrid for stuffing him in the suitcase, and presumably hiding him from Mapi, because if she had seen, you would have heard about it.
"What is his name? Chester?" Alexia said, handing him to you. You tucked him under your good arm, rolling your eyes. Alexia knew his name.
"You know it's Cosmo."
"Right, Christopher."
You rolled your eyes again, but your lips turned up into a smile. Alexia beamed at the sight, happy her idiotic bit had made you smile, even if it was just a bit. "Goodnight, Ale."
"Buenas noches, pequeña. I'll leave my door open, shout if you need me, okay?"
You nodded in the affirmative, and Alexia left you to sleep.
You passed out almost instantly, body and mind drained from your somehow exhausting day. While you'd been in the hospital, you hadn't had any issues sleeping, likely do to the pain medication they'd given you. You didn't dream, and sleeping proved to be a completely peaceful respite, mind wonderfully blank. Now, though, you were just taking over the counter stuff, which did nothing to help you sleep.
They had had a psychologist come talk to you about the accident, but you'd waved her away, saying that you were fine. You thought you were. The car ride home had been slightly terrifying, but you'd really barely thought back to what had happened.
-----
It was more of a memory than a nightmare that hit you, and at first, it felt like you were just remembering the event, than dreaming it. It was as if you were watching the accident from above, yet feeling everything as it was happening to you. It was in slow motion, the car approaching the intersection, you going when the light turned green. You saw the car braking late, tires screeching on the pavement even as the it barreled towards you. You watched yourself turn your head, seeing the car through the visor on your helmet, the way the front wheel of your bike turned just slightly. This was probably what saved your leg, you think.
Then the car is making contact with the bike, and you're flying off towards the ground, rolling for a while, as the bike crashed and slid away, too. Just as you stopped rolling, you snapped back into your body, feeling all of the pain you remembered. Your breath caught in your throat as you writhed around in agony. You were stuck in that moment, the few seconds after the crash you'd been awake, an endless loop of the most you'd ever hurt, and the most scared you'd ever been. The sky was going dark, and you couldn't remember if this was a dream or not, all you could think was that you were sure you were going to die.
-----
Alexia had been in and out of sleep, jerking awake at the smallest noise. She'd checked on you every time she woke up, and each time, found you peacefully asleep. She wasn't sure why she was so worried; you'd been sleeping fine, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to be awake for you.
It was around 3 in the morning when she woke again, hearing what she thought was you crying out. She was frustrated, the last few days having been exhausting for her too, and she had rolled over to go back to sleep, convinced that it was just her imagination again.
She sat straight up in bed a second later though, hearing another sound from the direction of your room. She flew out of bed, down the hall, and into your room, freezing when she saw you thrashing around under the covers. Your face was twisted up in pain, likely from the movements your body was making in your sleep. It was obvious to her what you must be dreaming about.
Alexia moved closer to the bed, heart physically hurting in her chest at the sight of you, tears leaking from behind your shut eyelids. She said your name once, twice, then a third time when you didn't wake. She scanned your body for where she could possibly shake you awake without hurting you, and settled on your uninjured right arm. She grabbed it, squeezing gently.
"Pequeña, wake up," she said gently, watching as your eyes flew open. They scanned the room, wide and wet with tears, and when you realized that you were not laying in the middle of the street, instead in your warm bed in Alexia's house, you lurched towards her.
You didn't get very far, crying out loudly when you moved even a fraction of an inch. You became aware that every part of you still ached, and though you weren't sure why, allowed Alexia to ease you back down onto the bed, until you were no longer aggravating your ribs. You reached your good arm towards Alexia, and she grabbed it easily.
"You're okay, pequeña, it was just a dream," she said. You nodded, but your chest still rose and fell rapidly, and you looked to be confused as well as in pain. "You are here with me, at my house."
"Hurts," you choked out, still not really sure why every one of your injuries was aching so badly.
"I know, you were moving a lot in your sleep. Just relax, I'll go get you some more ice," she said, moving to get off the bed. You let out a little squeak in response, and Alexia gave in, sitting back on the bed.
"It was green," you mumbled after a minute, somewhat calmer, but still shaking lightly.
"What was green?" Alexia asked.
"The light. It was green. I didn't do anything wrong, and I still got hit."
Alexia's face grew stormy, and you misunderstood.
"I promise, Capi, the light was green, and I even waited a second before going, like you're supposed to." You implored, and Alexia shook her head, shushing you quietly.
"I know, I'm not angry with you. It wasn't your fault. It was the other drivers fault, and he will pay for what he did."You didn't spend too long thinking about that, mind drifting off to other things.
"I thought I was going to die," you said, looking up at Alexia. You looked scared, terrified really, and it was clear that the full weight of what had happened was only just now hitting you.
I did too, Alexia thought. I thought I was watching you die on the ground in front of me.
"You didn't die, you were never going to die. You are fine, you are here with me, and you are completely fine." Alexia said conclusively.
"I'm fine." You echoed.
"You're fine." Alexia promised again. You had settled back into the bed, clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. As soon as your eyes closed, though, they would snap right back open, flashing to Alexia, as if to make sure she was still there.
"I am not going anywhere, pequeña. I will stay right here until you fall asleep."
You visibly relaxed, eyes shutting almost immediately, and this time, they didn't jerk back open. Alexia stayed, as promised, until she heard your breathing even out, and your grip slackened on her hand.
She made her way back to her room, contending with the odd feeling that this was not the only time you were going to struggle with nightmares.
-----
As usual, Alexia was right. Every night, it seemed, you had the same dream, and every night, Alexia heard you, came into your room and woke you up. You were both exhausted, completely and to your core. Your fourth night home, you woke up with your fourth reoccurring nightmare. It felt like every time, you laid on the ground, in pain, longer. You'd woken by yourself, and you knew you hadn't been very quiet. Alexia didn't come, though, so you forced yourself to calm down, before getting up to make sure she was okay.
Your anxiety levels in general had spiked since the accident, and you found yourself worried every time anyone went... anywhere. You crept down the hall, good arm wrapped around your abdomen. Alexia's door was open, as she'd been leaving it, and she was tucked under the covers, still out cold.
You turned away, realizing the toll this must be taking on her. Dealing with you and your injuries during the day, your nightmares at night, and the team and training dominated everything else. You were old enough to deal with nightmares on your own, you decided. Alexia needed rest.
Your version of dealing with the nightmares was slowly making your way downstairs, before cozying up on the couch and turning on the TV quietly. You eventually drifted back off, and that is where Alexia found you the next morning.
She was sitting on the other end of the couch, feet tucked under her, as she sipped at a mug of coffee. You'd woken, you realized, because she'd turned the TV to a football match, and the change in volume had registered somewhere deep in your subconscious.
"What time is it?" You asked groggily.
"Almost 10," Alexia replied, looking away from the TV when she heard you speak. "What are you doing down here?"
"I... I was hot in my room, and it was cooler down here." Alexia raised a single eyebrow at you, but you held strong, maintaining eye contact.
"You were hot, so you came downstairs to sleep on the couch under 3 blankets?" Alexia asked after a minute.
"Once I got down here, I was cold, but I didn't want to go all the way back upstairs, so I used more blankets." You said weakly.
"What happened?" She asked, as if you hadn't spoken at all.
"Nothing."
"Pequeña," she said, sighing.
"Nightmare." you replied. Alexia's face changed, realization washing over it. She seemed to have just figured out that you hadn't woken her with a nightmare last night.
"I didn't hear you, did I? I slept through it?"
You nodded your head.
"I'm so sorry." She said, voice filled with guilt.
"Don't be. You don't need to wake up every time I have a nightmare. I was fine, I am fine." You dismissed.
"These nightmares... they've been happening a lot," Alexia stated, watching as your body physically recoiled away from the conversation. You stood from the couch, prepared to leave the room.
"Hey, don't run away from me. You can't just pretend the nightmares aren't happening, pequeña, they won't get better if you ignore them."
"I don't want to talk about it." You replied firmly, continuing on your way towards the stairs.
"Did you remember I'm leaving this afternoon? I'll be gone for a night, we have that away match in Sweden."
You hadn't remembered, honestly. You'd been pretty preoccupied with everything else going on, and when Alexia had asked if you would be okay with her going to the game a few days ago, you'd agreed easily. You thought you'd be doing better, mentally and physically, by the time she had to go.
You'd already moved into her house, were disrupting her entire life, not to mention waking her up every night. You wouldn't be the reason she missed a match, even if being by yourself was miserable.
"I know," you lied. "It's fine." You didn't turn around, instead keeping your back to Alexia.
"I can stay if you need me. Or you can go to Lucy's, she's out injured. The blonde offers gently, tone completely sincere.
"No, really. It's fine. I'll be fine."
Honestly, Alexia didn't believe you for a minute, but she knew you'd never admit that you needed her. She hoped you'd realize that it was okay for you to need her, to need help, and maybe the only way to do that would be to go.
She stood, walking towards where you stood, facing away from her. She turned you around carefully, leaving her hands on your shoulders. "Promise me you'll call if something happens? Or Lucy?"
"I'll be fine." You insisted, shrugging out from her grasp, and going to hide away in your room.
"That's not a promise, pequeña," Alexia shouted after you.
-----
Alexia left later that day, rather hesitantly, but left nonetheless. You had settled on the couch, still pretty much not allowed to do anything more than walk short distances. You were expecting a knock on the door any minute now, because there was simply no way Alexia wouldn't have instructed everyone that she knew in the city of Barcelona to check on you.
Instead of the predicted knock on the door, your phone rang. Leah's contact popped up and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the phone call ahead. Aside from talking to Leah, briefly, over the phone in the hospital, you hadn't spoken to her since. Your screen time had been severely limited because of the concussion, but you knew Lucy and Keira had been keeping your national team captain up to date.
"Hello." Leah said, somewhat coldly. She was a worrier, and she was big on honesty, so the situation was obviously really hard for her. She was concerned, yes, but she was also angrier than almost anyone else. That was how Leah was, though. Her worry manifested as anger- she didn't like to be vulnerable and admit she was scared for you, so she covered it up with being angry.
"How long are you going to be mad at me for?" You complained.
"How long until you'll be back on the field after your stupid and avoidable accident?" Leah fired back.
You flinched slightly. It was avoidable. That was something that you couldn't get out of your head, that it was your fault. If you'd just listened none of this would have happened. It was your fault that everyone was worried, that Alexia had to see you so hurt, that she had to take care of you, that your teammates across the continent had to worry about you from afar. It was all your fault.
"Y/n? Are you okay?" Leah's voice jolted you from your spiral, and you forced a smile on your face.
"Yep! All good. What's up with you?" You asked, changing the subject. Leah looked at you, searchingly, not understanding what had just happened. You'd spaced out completely after she'd spoken, getting this fareway look on your face, growing incredibly pale. She worried something was going south with your concussion.
"Where is Putellas? I want to talk to her."
"Why?" You wondered suspiciously.
"Is she there?" Leah asked impatiently.
"No, she's gone for the night. Away game for the Champions League. She'll be back tomorrow night."
Leah's worry grew. "She left you there by yourself?"
"Leah, seriously I'm fine."
"You don't seem fine, kid. You just spaced out in the middle of my sentence, looked like you were going to throw up, and then snapped out of it. Is it your head? Are you dizzy? You should call for an ambulance just to be safe." Leah was rambling, feeling rather helpless.
"Jesus, Leah. No. It's not my head, I'm not dizzy, I. Am. Fine. Everyone needs to stop worrying."
The blonde wasn't dropping this easily. "Why did you freak out then?"
You paused. You could lie, Leah would be able to tell, and she'd probably call the Spanish military in to check on you. Or you could try to be truthful.
"You're right, it was stupid and it was avoidable. I shouldn't have been so reckless." You answer quietly. You watch as Leah's face loses all of it's frustration, melting into a completely soft, concerned one. She had the reputation for being harsh and strict, but really, she was the easiest to make fold. Her heart was too big to stick to any of the things she said when she was mad.
"I shouldn't have said that. I was worried, yes. You're an adult, though, and you can make your own decisions. And from what I've heard, the accident was completely not your fault."
You shrug indifferently. Leah tries to take a different approach. All the time she's known you, she's known you to be stubborn. She had to see how deep this guilt really went, and she knew how.
"Are you going to get a new bike?" She asked.
You scoffed. "No."
"Why? Because you don't want to, or because everyone else doesn't want you to?"
"Both I guess. Scaring everyone like that again wouldn't be fair, and all anyone would think about when I rode off on it would be the time I almost died." You pause, lowering your voice before aditting the next part. "And I don't really think I could ever get on one again anyway." Your cheeks flush red, and you avoid Leah's eyes on the screen. Admitting that you're scared is not something you're comfortable with.
"It's okay if you're scared, y/n. What happened was terrifying. There isn't anything wrong with having a hard time with it. Lucy mentioned you'd been having nightmares..."
"My god, has Alexia told everyone?!" You groan. "I'm not scared, they aren't nightmares, they are just dreams. I am fine. Tell everyone to stop worrying."
It's quiet for a minute after your outburst.
"I don't think you are okay. But I know better than to try to convince you to change your mind and be honest. Just... don't push everyone away okay? It's not fair to you. You need a support system right now. Let yourself lean on the people that love you."
"I'm fine, Leah."
She sighed deeply. "Well, if you decide to stop being stubborn, I'm always here for you, yeah?
"Bye, Lee."
With that, you hung up the phone, throwing down onto the couch, incredibly frustrated. You weren't being stubborn. You didn't need help.
You were worried about sleeping that night; even though you had been trying not to wake Alexia up, it was still comforting to know that she was there, just a room over. Now, you would be all alone in the house. You hadn't had any issues when you napped, though, so you decided to get ahead of what you expected to be a night of little sleep.
The couch was comfortable enough, and you left the TV on, the soft hum of voices, combined with the general exhaustion that plagued your healing body, quickly lulling you to sleep. It was afternoon when you dozed off, and afternoon still when you jolted awake.
It was the same nightmare, but it seemed that each time you had it, it felt more and more real. At the beginning, you could remind yourself it was a dream; now, though, you didn't realize that until you had woken up. Sometimes it even took a few minutes for you to get a handle on your surroundings, the pain in your abdomen from your rapid breathing not helping you.
This was one of the worse ones. The dream had lasted longer than ever, and this time, you could hear different people around you, telling you that it was your fault for being so reckless. People you loved.
You were sweating, laying on Alexia's couch, gripping onto the blanket wrapped around you like it was the only protection between you, and the death you had just experienced in your nightmare.
It took you a while to calm your breathing down, and by the time you did that, your ribs felt like they were on fire inside of you, burning from the movement. You realized you were crying, and that it wasn't because of the pain.
You'd almost died.
You were alive, you reminded yourself.
But you came so close to not being alive.
The voices from your dreams echoed around your head, and you could only cry harder, turning to push your face into the pillow underneath you. Nothing you did made the tears, or the body shaking sobs, stop.
After another 10 minutes, when you were seriously worried you were going to damage your ribs, you pulled your phone out. You should have called Lucy, really, but Alexia was the only one that had ever seen you even close to as upset as you were now, and you were sure she was the only one who could help you calm down.
Alexia's phone rang right to voicemail. She was on media today, you remembered, and she'd told you to call someone else on the team if she didn't answer, and if it was an emergency. You scrolled through your recent calls, clicking on the first teammate that you saw; Ingrid.
She answered after only two rings, and you could hear the sounds of the team hanging out and joking around in the background.
"Hi elskling!," Ingrid said, sounding happy to get a call from you. She'd been checking in a lot, which you appreciated, but you knew you'd been pretty distant with her, as you'd been with most of the team. Guilt was a funny thing, and bothering everyone more than you already had felt necessary. You hadn't called to catch up with Ingrid, though.
"Ingrid, can you get Alexia please," you choked out, swallowing a sob that threatened to escape you.
"Yes, of course." Ingrid's tone turned serious, and you heard her mumbling to Mapi, before she came back on. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"No, I just need Alexia."
"Okay, Mapi's just gone to get her. She'll be right here, I promise."
"Thank you," you say, voice nothing but a broken whisper.
"It's going to be okay, y/n, I promise." Ingrid said, and you tried to internalize her words. You heard voices moving closer, one of Mapi, and one, unmistakably, of Alexia, but the panicked version of her voice. One you'd been hearing a lot of recently.
"Hey, pequeña, I'm here," Alexia murmured over the phone. "Talk to me, what's going on?"
"Nightmare. Worse than normal." You get out. You're still crying, and Alexia can barely understand you.
"Are you having a hard time breathing?" She asks.
"No, no I just can't stop crying. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Okay, that's okay. Everything is okay pequeña. You're allowed to cry." Alexia assured you.
"It hurts, Ale."
Alexia felt her heart shatter at the hopeless tone of your voice. She couldn't fix this, not from so far away. She turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were hovering nearby.
"Call Lucy, tell her to go to my house." She mouthed at them. Mapi whipped out her phone, walking away as she talked quickly into it.
"Sit up for me, cariño, can you do that?"
"Okay," you mumble.
"Do you have any water near you?"
"Yeah."
"I want you to take a couple slow sips, okay?"
You do as Alexia says, following her instructions for the next few minutes. You haven't really calmed down at all, though, and Alexia is relieved when she hears a knock on the door through the phone.
"Cariño, that's Lucy. Can you open the door for her?"
"I-I think so." You struggle to your feet, wobbling towards the door, and unlocking it with a shaky hand. Lucy is stood on the other side, and she moves forward as soon as the door opens, steadying you. You only feel relieved when you see her, all thoughts of being embarrassed pushed from your head, just desperate to stop crying.
"Luce is here," you tell Alexia.
"Okay, good. Do what she says, okay? And call me when you feel a little better?" You agree, hanging up the phone, and allowing Lucy to guide you over to the couch. She sat down next to you, rubbing your back softly.
"You're okay, kiddo."
"I can't calm down, Luce," you stutter out.
"You can, I promise. Have I told you about what Narla did the other day?"
You're slightly confused at the abrupt change of subject, but Lucy launches into a ridiculous story about Narla at the dog park. You don't really notice that the tears stop, that your body has stopped trembling so hard, until Lucy finishes her story, and miraculously, you feel significantly better.
"Okay?" Lucy asks, handing you your water, which you gulp down gratefully.
"Yeah. Sorry. Don't know what happened."
Lucy's expression is unreadable as she stares at you for a minute. She leaves you with the idea that there is a conversation to be had, but she doesn't begin it. You get the distinct feeling that she's waiting for Alexia to be there.
"I'll get you some ice." She says instead. She goes to the kitchen, and you recline back onto the couch, wincing at the pain. Lucy returns quickly, her brow furrowed in worry as she tugs your shirt up a little, and looks at the dark blue bruises of your ribs.
"Do they look worse?" She asks you, placing the ice pack on them.
"No, the same."
"You should call Alexia back, she'll be losing her mind." You shrug. "Y/n, come on. Call her." Lucy's voice is uncharacteristically stern.
"I hate worrying everyone." You admit weakly, but reach for your phone, clicking Alexia's contact.
Lucy watches as you talk to her, assuring her over and over again that you're fine, really. She can tell by Alexia's doubtful voice that the captain is thinking the same thing Lucy is; you needed help. Neither of them were quite sure how to get you to agree to it, though.
-----
didnt' mean for there to be another part but this got long so :)
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